In search of dragons...

Monday began with an appointment with the KHT at her college. We duly rolled up at the allotted time, only to be greeted by the fire alarm.

As we hadn't signed in and were still on the public footpath immediately adjacent to the college, we were not herded off to some evacuation point, and were left free to observe, as groups of students appeared out of various exits.
Fire marshalls sported their high vis tabards, in an attempt to highlight their presence and as protection against the biting wind.
After the exceptionally warm weather of the preceding days, the KHT was wearing shorts. She wasn't giving up on summer, even if summer appears to have largely given up on us.





The fire engine rolled up, and the officers carried out an inspection. The final verdict seemed to be that the alarm was triggered by hairspray in the toilets on the top floor.

One of her tutors guided us towards the person we had come to meet, who was stood with the family from his current and rudely interrupted meeting.

In view of the hiatus we went and checked in, where we made contact with the course leader from the college the KHT wishes to attend next year, who was also attending our meeting.
She was very pleased to see us, as the reception had tried to convince her that she had rolled up on the wrong day. However she had her emails, and she stuck to her sofa...

Having completed the necessary formalities we headed back home for a welcome coffee.

As it was St Georges day we decided to go off in search of a church dedicated to St George.  In our area most churches with George as their patron saint seem to be urban - think Worcester, Kidderminster or even the closed church in our own town. Urban churches are understandably rarely open. We prefer rural gems, where we are free to enjoy the ambiance. The nearest one appeared to be in Shipston on Stour  - a small town with interesting shops and not too far away. Perfect.

Upon arriving in the small town, we parked by the river and set off in search of sustenance. Unfortunately, our first choice of cafe had no tables free, so we reverted to our usual eaterie, Mrs Browns. The food was fine, though I had to feel for the poor waiter who dropped a tray of crocs - that woke everyone up...

We browsed the second-hand shops. Our favourite junk shop has decided that it is now an antique shop, so prices have doubled. The KHT bought a book - £2 - which was a reaasonable price, whilst we bemoaned progress.

We visited the card shops, ironmongers, and more charity shops. Then we remembered the purpose of the visit, and headed off to find the church,  situated on the other side of the main road to the rest of the town.


Standing outside the church I looked at the noticeboard.
"It's not St. George!" I said, greatly surprised.
"What do you mean it's not St. George? 
You mean we came all the way here, 
for the sole purpose of visiting a church dedicated to St. George, and it isn't?"
"Well, Google said it was!"

Sure enough, Google had placed a blob on the map of 'St George's' in Shipston, but it referred to the pub opposite, 'The George Townhouse', not an ecclesiastical landmark!











If you have a magnifying glass you might just be able to decipher the blue sign of the George, which has its rear entrance opposite the church.
















We explored the beautifully kept church and especially liked the welcome sign in the porch.
















As a consolation, we discovered a new-to-us shop, with very nice necklaces and cards.

A sales assistant directed us towards their furniture showroom in an old Baptist chapel adjacent to the shop.
It had some lovely quirky items in, but our house is now fully furnished.
Phew, that saved us some money!

Before we left Shipston we diverted to take a photo of the front of The George House, which looks as if it once was a fine coaching inn.














Well, we didn't find any dragons
(other than the one on this old mug)
but we did find 'George',
even if it wasn't the 'George' we anticipated....