Tag: country

#365daysofbiking Take me home

Saturday November 7th 2020 – Some important bike maintenance tasks and gusty weather kept me busy at home, and I slipped out very late on a test run.

Coming off Lazy Hill and down through Bosses and Footherley, I caught the wind behind me and the speed of empty, but owl-haunted lanes.

The reassuring light of my headlight, some good music on the phone and the joy of quiet, assured speed took me on a night flight home that was rather wonderful.

I did enjoy it so.

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#365daysofbiking Happy valley

May 9th – A run into Birmingham the day before had me hankering for the Sandwell Valley. I had errands to do, and the park is on the route between West Browmwich and Rushall Junction on the Tame Valley Canal, so what better chance to pay it a visit?

It was on my return I chose to visit the park: With snacks in the saddlebag and a cooling alcohol free G&T I enjoyed a small, private picnic overlooking Swan Pool.

It was busy with walkers, runners, cyclists and promenading families, but everything was well distanced and pleasant.

And while I sat cross legged and munching, the late afternoon sun warmed my soul and the azure blue sky, reflected in the water, was gorgeous.

A very welcome afternoon of clarity and peace.

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#365daysofbiking Rising again


February 23rd – It’s not often there’s good news to share on pubs here, I normally note their closing but seldom their re-opening.

I had noted the sad state of the Meynell-Ingram Arms at Hoar Cross more than once, after its sudden closure in 2014. I genuinely thought it would never open again.

This charming old country pub was in it’s day a decent place and could, I think, be a great destination for a decent rural pint and a meal. It’s great that it’s being refurbished and revitalised.

You can find out more here on the website.

I wish the new owners the very best in their new venture.

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August 8th – Unusually, I was in Redditch visiting a supplier and despite the (currently rare) overcast day, I was reminded of what gorgeous, surprising corners the new town has.

Redditch gets a lot of stick – much of it deserved – for dull planning and generally being a product of postwar urban design; but where it works – Lick the respectfully preserved Church Green or the gorgeous Arrow Valley Country Park, with the time hamlet of Ipsley preserved within – it’s rather wonderful.

I actually like this place a lot. There, I said it.

June 9th – I carried on from Clifton on a weary, hot but enjoyable ride around Netherseal, Lullington, Edingale and Croxall. The countryside was showing itself beautifully, and the willows over the Seal Brook are still timeless.

One small complaint, though. Country pubs, that people tend to drive or cycle to: I don’t drink when riding for the same reason I wouldn’t if driving, but I do like a nice alcohol free beer. So why not stock it?

Nothing worse than sugary, sickly syrup parading as a soft drink when you’re really looking for something cool and bitter to take the edge off.

Country pubs: Look after your nominated drivers and responsible cyclists and you’ll get repeat custom!

June 9th – Saturday meant the Clifton Campville Country Show which I first visited by accident the year before. I was a little late but there was still lots going on and it it was a typically English summer event, with an Classic cars and trucks, arena events, hot bewildered and bothered dogs, cakes, beer and a selection of bizarre things going on, including the local hunt that gave the security team – the local police cadets – a bit of a nightmare.

I didn’t find this one as good as 2017s – no jam or country produce at a country fair? But it was a lovely stop off on a sunny afternoon.

I love a good fete.

August 16th – Riding to work down Green Lane, Shelfield on a bright sunny morning, and something gently reminded me of my grandfather.

The harvest at Grange Farm has been ongoing, and the road had been treated to a generous sprinkling of spilled cereal kernels – probably wheat. This grain, spilled by machinery and trailers as they lurch from field to barn is a feature of rural and peri-rural areas at this time of year, and is what the old man called ‘gleanings’.

Locally, ordinary folk were allowed to collect the seed lost on the roads and lanes for their own use. Few would use it for food, but many fed it to pets and livestock. Grandad said that you traditionally fed pets you kept for pleasure, not profit on the gleanings, fancy birds like guineafowl. 

Guineafowl were locally called Gleanies from this practice.

I well remember the farm opposite where the old man lived until a ripe old age having guineafowl, which are noisy, shrieking birds. ‘Gleanies am off again, the buggers!’ he’d curse every morning.

On a side note, watch out for the gleanings as they’re slippery and soapy, and steal wheels and grip, particularly when wet.

A warm memory on a warm, late summer morning.

June 10th – One of the best things about a real country fair is the sheer entertainment value and variety of dogs to be seen there. From feisty little terriers to the huge, rug-like Pyrenean they were all charming, whether part of a display, plodding behind an owner, partaking of a nap or just waiting patiently for a treat.

A particularly strange moment came when the local drag hunt released, apropos of nothing much, their pack of hounds into the crowd. An odd thing, for sure.

I could have happily adopted any of these fine dogs.

June 10th – I took a ride out on a dreadfully windy afternoon intent on visiting the Clifton Campville Country Fair. I’d been before a decade ago, when it was just a few stalls in a large garden, but I do love a country fete with cakes and all the usual things, and I’ve been determined to attend more this year. It was also a good way to force myself into a 40 mile plus ride in weather I’d normally swerve one for.

What I found was stunning; a large country event with big arena, loads of great stalls, a real ale bus, more cake than you could ever eat and lots of people. I wished I’d arrived earlier with more cash in my pocket!

It was a lovely, offbeat affair with a peculiarly eccentric atmosphere; a little disjointed but great fun.

All in the shadow of one of England’s finest churches.

The day was only darkened by the rain setting in on my way home; it started at Whitemoor Haye and didn’t stop. Combined with a 20mph headwind, it wasn’t a fun ride back.

But the event was well worth the battle.

September 3rd – A very wet morning washed out the Whittington Country Fair, which was very sad as it was a lovely, quintessentially English event with plenty of food, interesting stalls and animals.

There were a whole range of good food stalls, things to buy and see, and it was all bracketed by. that wonderful British stoicism that we were going to have a good time despite the mud and weather.

Some of it was so wonderfully Wallace and Grommit it was beautiful. A great day, and I bet on a dry year this fair is buzzing.