Avon Adventures

A beautiful warm summer's day.
The air was warm.
Above us was an ever changing kaleidoscope of sunshine and broken cloud.
"Let's go out for the afternoon."
"Where would you like to go?"
"Stratford. We can park close to the river and take chairs."
I had visions of a wander by the river,

followed by relaxing by the Avon, with some light refreshments and a good book...

We packed chairs, a cool bag with drink and some snacks and set off.

Halfway there I remembered that I had forgotten to bring a book.
DH's phone rang.
We accepted the call via handsfree
as we were awaiting notification of the tin tent's annual check
postponed by Covid 19, like the rest of life.
It was not the mechanic.
However, as a response was required to the call ASAP, DH promised to call back.
We drove around the town and over the bridge, intending to park in the recreation Car Park.
Alas it was full -
partly because  it was a lovely day and other people had also fancied an afternoon by the river
and partly because there was a blooming great ferris wheel taking up residence in one section of the car park.
Before we had time to have a domestic we spotted a sign to the adjacent sports club parking, where we had a choice of spaces.
Phew!

DH reversed the car into a suitable space and I was just about to get out the car when the KHT suddenly issued imperative instructions to me from her vantage point in the back seat.
"DO NOT MOVE A MUSCLE! JUST DON'T MOVE!!!" 
I had no idea why and no explaination was forthcoming.
Was there an anaconda snake behind me...?
Had the car been invaded by pirates, fresh from pillages on the Avon...?
Or had I not noticed a wasps nest on my head, prior to getting in the car...?
"What is going on?" enquired my husband,
 thinking I somehow knew what was going through the KHT's head.
"JUST DON'T MOVE! IT IS SERIOUS!!!!"
"There is probably a spider somewhere..."
'My guess enabled the KHT to communicate the problem
"Yes! That's it! Has anyone got a glass to hand?"
We all drive around with a tumbler and piece of card in our hand,

just in case we encounter unwanted arachnids requiring eviction, don't me?
Not.
"Where is it?" I enquired, knowing that I wasn't going to like the answer
"Is it on me?"
"No. It's down the side of your seat."
I looked down and there was a large brown long legged spider beside me.
I would like to say that it was the size of a dinner plate, but you might accuse me of exageration.
Now I knew of the existance and location of this Little Miss Muffet I exited the car very rapidly,
before it could devour me or entrapped me in a web
The spider moved on to the car mat.
My reluctance to get anywhere near this multi-legged monster,
was over-ridden by my desire avoid being in the same space as that spider ever again.
Before my courage deserted me I grabbed the mat by the corner
and flung it unceremoniously onto the tarmac.
Liberated, the spider scuttled away to enjoy the culture of the Bard's home town.

We left DH to his phone call
"We'll go and wander by the river, text us when you are through."
"Where will you be?" asked DH,
feeling completely disorientatedby being in a 'new-to-us' car park.
"Over by the river..."
"Where is the river?"
"Over there..." I replied, waving an arm vaguely in the direction of the Avon.

The KHT and I set off on our explorations.
First stop - the facilities.

Then we passed the entrance to the ferris wheel.
I knew what would make someone VERY, VERY happy.
"Would you like to go on?"
"Oh yes!"
Did I REALLY think she would decline the opportunity to sail through the air?
I urged byself to be brave. Rides are NOT my sort of thing.
At all!
"O.K. Let's get a couple of tickets."
"Are you coming on as well?"
"Of course!"
If I can survive the spider,
what harm could come to me on some wheel...?
We got our tickets,
sanitised our hands
and when invited to come forward, climbed into our pod.
Immediately we started racing up towards the clouds.
I didn't expect it to go THIS FAST!
I closed my eyes as we ascended
and reminded myself to breathe...
The KHT was oblivious, having her back to me.
gazing in wonderment on the town below us.
We reached the top
and I looked down with interest from my vantage point,
at roof tops and tree tops,
windows and gardens
 and the river, looking northwards.
The KHT was in seventh heaven.
"All I need now is a glider!"

Long way down...

"Are you enjoying this?" I enquired, knowing the reply would be in the affimative
"Oh yes!" came the satisfied reply.
We completed our descent and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I had survived.
But the wheel did not stop to allow me to dismbark.
Oh no, it sailed on for another rotation
and another
and another
and another
and another...






I got brave and started to take some photographs.
I had plenty of shots of the back of the KHT's head,
but I thought it would be good to have one of her face.
"Turn around, so I can take your photo."
She immediately obliged,
but it wasn't just her that turned,
the pod began to rotate as well!
We looked at each other in surprise.
In the middle of the pod was a pole, so it made sense that the pods could rotate.
"What would happen if the pod went crashing down to the ground?" the KHT enquired.
"That is not the question to ask if you ever want me to be up here again" I replied with a smile.
She knows my normal reluctance to do anything of this nature
"True."
I cannot say that I had not already asked myself the very same question.
But once the question had popped into her mind it wouldn't go away
"Me and my big mouth..." she quietly remonstrated herself.

Hair raising

It was at this point I noticed that she was wearing her pink
t-shirt with the quote from A Midsummer Night's Dream..

I sent DH a photo of the KHT in the big wheel
I got the reply
'Do you want chairs.'
I looked around.
Chairs were not going to be much use up here...
'On the wheel' I texted back -
in case he hadn't appreciated that our current location
was high in the clouds.







Meanwhile the wheel slowed, as the operators started disembarking people.
Turn.
Halt.
It was at this point that I suddenly became grateful for the earlier swift ascent,
as the buffetting by the wind increased as the wheel 's speed reduced.
We reached ground level.
Phew!
We didn't stop.
Oh no!
Our pod still had another painful lumbering circuit to complete before I could escape!

Finally we exited the pod, to my relief and the KHT's regret
and availed ourselves of hand sanitiser as directed.
The one at the entrance had been quite parsimonious,
In complete contrast this one ooooozed with generousity!
I frantically rubbed my hands together, as I attempted to get rid of the slime.

To my surprise DH had the cool bag.
"Oh, I was saving that until later!" 
"I was thirsty."
I couldnt fault the logic.
"Let's find a bench."

Stratford was buzzing.
Lots of family groups were taking advantage of the warm weather
and picnicing on the grass adjacent to the river.

As we walked on admiring the boats,
the KHT spotted a small fair
with some crazy ride,
"What's not to like!"
said my adreleline junkie
in breathless appreciation.
"Plenty!" said I.













As time was advancing we only did the shorter walk,
down to the footbridge and back past the church and theatre.

The longer walk can wait for another day.

Three Masketeers

Crisis in the catering department, we are nearly out of milk and the delivery isn't due until lunchtime tomorrow. The thought of a daytime visit to a local supermarket fills me with despair and the corner shop requires a minimum £5 spend on a card.
I attempt to interest my husband in a (rare these days) grand retail adventure,
"Why don't we go to M & S at Blackpole - you wanted a new frying pan - Home Sense is close by and usually has a good selection at less than Lakeland prices... We can also try out our new facemasks ahead of their compulsory use, which comes in on Friday."
At the thought of a new frying pan, DH agreed that this was an excellent plan and off we set.
I know the way to my husband's heart...

Arriving at the retail park, we donned our facemasks, lovingly created by DH on his manual singer sewing machine. The first family mask-wearing moment was duly recorded for posterity.

Getting out the car I discovered that the KHT's mask was excessively loose, and also tied completely wrong. Having made the necessary adjustments we hit the shops - a unusual experience for my husband, who has only ventured into any store a couple of times since lockdown began.

We began our retail adventures at Home Sense, emporium of plant pots, pans, pens, pouffes, plastic containers and other paraphernalia. Having located kitchenware, DH spent some time weighing up the relative merits of different surfaces, materials and handles of frying pan.
I decided to help speed up the decision-making process with helpful suggestions...

"Why don't you buy the cardboard one," I suggested, obviously considering the green credentials, but DH wasn't fooled.
"That is just the packaging! The frying pan is inside..."
After much deep pan, dead pan deliberation DH finally selected his new weapon for future culinary delights from the display.
Meanwhile, I was missing,
having wandered off to the exotic delights of the gardening section.
I returned to find two blue masked faces looking at me, accusingly...
Fortunately masks deter their protests at my temporary absence.
We made our way to the tills where in addition to DH's frying pan, the KHT purchased coat hangers and toiletries
and I started my Christmas Shopping....ARGH!!!!!

Next stop M & S, but first we have to join the extensive queue of two people outside the store, before being permitted to enter the hallowed aisles, where once St Michael may have been.
Strawberries, a months supply of cheese, soup and the essential milk were amongst our purchases.

In view of the fact that mask wearing in shops will be compulsory from Friday it seemed a good plan to have a trial run.
How did we find it? Initially it was rather a shock, but I soon forgot I was wearing one until I wanted to talk to someone. Having said that, it was a great relief when I was able to remove it and breathe more freely.
I would estimate that masks were worn by only about 5% of shoppers, slightly more in M & S than Home Sense, which were the only shops we visited.
Given the predominance of bare-faced shoppers around us, it was very tempting to pop our masks in our bags and not to wear them on this trip. However, as we will be required to wear masks in shops from Friday, it made sense to have a trial run and begin to get used to this particualar aspect of the 'new normal'.
Wearing matching masks is not our intention - though we could do some fun masked family photos for Christmas 2020 if we are still required to wear them at the end of the year. These were the prototypes, manufactured by DH on his manual singer sewing machine from old t-shirts sacrificed to the cause. The KHT may have prefered pink and sparkly, but BHS Mens colour range 2010 is our current anticorona fashion default. Who knows what colour/pattern the next batch will be!

Later the KHT was quizzing me on my shopping habits
"If you had a choice between buying the same toiletries, or choosing something different, which would you choose?"
"If I find something that works I stick with that."
"You are not exactly wild are you?" she pronounced, condemning me to the comfort of middle aged mediocracy.
"Me, I see something exotic, I want to buy it! A different one each time!"
"You are a marketeer's dream," was the official pronouncement!

Not the Sound of Silence

Late afternoon and a party is already underway in the next close.
All afternoon we have been treated to music,
with random outbursts of singing when one of their favourites is played.
Some unseen construction provides freestyle rhythm section.
However the garden is too far away for us to observe the exact nature of the project
as it is screened by half a dozen or so full height garden fences.
The only thing that is visible is the occasional glimpse of the top of a head
presumably with body attached -
though as it is out of sight we cannot be totally certain...
However, it is a lovely afternoon
and the celebrations are not loud enough to cause any annoyance -
except possibly to their immediate neighbours.
Let us hope that they thought to invite them!

Exploring

As we head out on our evening Pokemon hunt
we pass close to the property in question.
The sound of happy voices is interspersed
with the odd drunken expletive ridden rant
from someone whose temperment appears not to be improved by the intake of alcohol.
No-one appears overly concerned,
so we walk on by...

In the adjacent playing fields,
a small group of teenagers sit in a small group
close to the social club.
Are they linked to anyone inside the club
or are they just randomly sitting in the corner of the field closest to it?
Who knows?
Last week it was the grand reopening of licensed premises
 - the doors flung wide announcing the great awakening from the sleep of lockdown
and possibly providing much needed ventilation after months enforced shutdown.
This week the fire doors were firmly closed.
I might have doubted that anyone was there,
but the shutters were raised and through the windows
I could clearly see patrons of the establishment enjoying their evening.
Let us hope the club survives the pandemic.
It would be a shame if it was to be replaced by housing.

As lockdown got under way, there was a significant increase in footfall
around the perimentre of the field
that a couple of distinct footpaths were worn in the grass.
With sports halted the grass was left to grow.
The next mowing cut a wide swathe around the perimeter of the field,
(sufficient to allow for social distancing between clockwise and anticlockwise walkers)
plus eight equally spaced pathways converging in the middle of each field,
reminisicent of a union jack - except it was all in tastefully muted shades of field vegetation - green, grey and light brown.

Emptiness

Once I counted thrirteen people in the adjacent small field,
suitably socially distancing, exercising canines, children or spouse.
Amusingly some were so used to dressing up to go out
that they even dressed for their evening stroll - leaving a trail of pungent perfume in their wake
detectable in the air for several minutes after they sailed by
reminding us of how droplets of the virus could remain in the air long after we have moved on.
This evening we only saw three dogs with their walkers in our entire trip.
Are dogs getting less exercise or are they taking their owners further afield to walk?

Back in the spring the roads were quiet,
with only the occasional vehicle on the roads,
Everyone was staying local to avoid the spreading or catching the dreaded virus -
taking their daily exercise in their neighbourhood.
Now we are allowed to travel much further
the highways hum with the passage of former pedestrians
incarcerated within their cars,
We no longer notice the sound of each individual engine,
as they are now part of some vast orchestral movement
with only the occasional vehicle being able to be individually identified by both location and classification.
"Can you hear the motorbike on the cloverleaf?"

Everything is moving up a gear, but the virus is not yet beaten, lurking as on unseen presence.
Masks designs are researched as the we enter the next stage of living with the virus.

I miss the relative sound of silence,
and the sight of the local community discovering the local community.

A Country Mile

Dark clouds loomed
as they have for much of the last week or so.
"Let's go to the telephone box and get some new books!"
A mile or so beyond the boundary of the town
in a hamlet with a suspiciously ficticious-sounding name
there is a small community library
located in a decommissioned telephone kiosk
situated far enough from town
to be safe from the attentions of gangs of bored teenagers
looking to get their kicks from mindless vandalism.
Here you can chose from the selection of the books on offer
and donate those you have read for others to enjoy.





If we lived on a busy thoroughfare,
I would have liked to have an American-style library in the front garden -
housed in a glass fronted cabinet,
complete with pitched roof and mounted on a single post.
However we live in a typical modern suburban end of close situation,
where no-one but the few residents and delivery drivers go,
unless they have missed the turning they didn't realise that they needed to take.
That happens a lot.
Unfamiliar vehicle with confused looking driver,
yeah they missed the turning.
Either that or they fail to grasp the ridiculous numbering system in our road,
which leaves the highest numbered house
at the end of a dead end half way down on the right hand side.
Thinking about it, every road I have lived in since leaving home
has had a bonkers numbering system!

Having made our selections we looked around at the pastoral landscape.
The cloudscape was dramatic,
"Shall we go to Hanbury and see the clouds?"
"Is it up this road?" asked my confused chauffer.
"No, we need to go back to the main road and head towards Droitwich."
At that moment a couple appeared,
carrier bag in hand,
walking up the road towards the library.
"More stock!" whispered my fellow traveller,

"We will have to wait until they have gone 

before we can go and see what books they have donated."
Alas, there is a post box next to the library,

and the bag only contained letters, 

not adventures and murders, 

printed and bound

for our edification.

We hit the road.

Since mid March our excursions out have been rare
and usually restricted to the town where we live or its immediate environs.
As we chugged along the Salt Way,
we were struck by how far a journey of about five miles seemed.
Pre-lockdown, days out often clocked up around 100 miles on the trip counter,
as there is a vast array of places within a 50 mile radious of our town.
Our perception of distance has changed.
It wasn't that the country miles were any longer,
just that we have become more accostomed to walking than travelling by car
and for our journeys to be much, much shorter.


During those five miles,
the dark clouds attempted to deter us
by treating us to a downpour.

We parked in the woods
and walked down the track to the small pool,
carefully socially distancing
from a free-roaming hound and owner
as they passed the sign exhorting dog owners
to 'Please keep dogs on a lead'.
We walked on through the woodland,
taking a slight detour
to admire the rain failing over the distant hills.

We climbed the hill to Hanbury Churchyard,
pausing to admire the butterflies and moths enjoying this natural oasis
of uncultivated grass bank.











The churchyard provides a magnificent viewpoint over a sweep of countryside,
from the Malverns in the East,
the costwolds to the south east
and the ridge to the west










The church is normally open,
offering hospitality to pilgrims,
even if they do not yet know
that this is what they are.
Today the doors were firmly closed,
but there is a glimmer of hope.
The doors will be open for private prayer on Wednesdays.
I pray the enforced closures will be the catalyst
for a society searching for santuary and spirituality.
If all they seek are refreshments and  toilets
they will be disappointed,
for as the sign clearly states
they will not be available.

Welcome to the strangeness of 2020.