So the current machine has satnav but it seems to me that
the technology has not quite got there yet. One thing is that the spoken voice
hasn’t quite been trained to speak in navigation speak. So instead of saying “at
the next roundabout take the first exit onto the A45” she says “at the next
roundabout take the first exit onto the a 45” where the “A” designation is
replaced with the indefinite article. So you are left wondering where all the
other 45s might be lurking and then you realise that you left them at your
Mother’s when you went to University and she threw than out after two years and
you wish she hadn’t because that 45 of “Substitute” by The Who with “Circles”
on the B-side would be worth a small fortune now … and by the time all that has
gone through your head you have missed the turning and you’re going south on
the M1 when it should have been north.
We had a day with the folks today are not perhaps as quick
off the mark as they used to be. My Father now has this walking aid (in fact he
seems to have a whole fleet of walking aids) that has three wheels and two
brakes and a black pouch for putting stuff in. He is a demon behind the wheel
of this thing. As he powers down the road people fall apart as if it were the
sea parting before the bow of a fast boat.
We had decided that we would go to Stratford-upon-Avon, home
of the bard (that’s William Shakespeare, known as Bill to his friends, for
those of you not of a literary bent). The G had been on a bus from London to
Stratford in the 1970s and I am sure that I have been but I cannot recall when.
I cannot describe myself as a Shakespeare buff but my Father surprised me by
quoting at some length from a number of his plays. I can remember the umpteenth
anniversary of his birth or death (I don’t remember which) in about 1964 when
special stamps were issued and I queued to buy them at the Post Office. I have
also acted, to brilliant reviews, in a slack handful of Shakespeare plays, A
Winter’s Tale and The Merchant of Venice spring to mind. But so far my ambition
to play Malvolio in Twelfth Night is yet to be realised. I think I should be a
rather good Malvolio.
We decided that we would go via Banbury as it would take us
on a route that did not contain any motor ways. On the way we saw a National
Trust sign for Sulgrave Manor and Canons Abbey. We had heard of neither of
these and, not having a set agenda, decided to pay one or other a rapid visit.
We already knew that many National Trust places are close for the winter and we
found Mulgrave Manor to be so closed. We didn’t bother with Canon Abbey but
pressed on instead to Banbury.
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| Sulgrave Manor was built by Lawrence Washington, George Washington’s five times great grandfather, in the mid-1500s. |
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| Sulgrave itself is quite large. We saw several horses trotting along the road and a few fine houses such as this one. There is also a bronze age barrow dating from between 2400BCE and 1500 BCE (they gave themselves some leeway in the dating. |
We found Banbury. But Banbury had changed, I remember 30
years ago I would drive through Banbury when I drove to Birmingham from
Newbury. Even the road numbering appeared to have changed; my recollection was
that the A34 or A43 ran through the town. But the current road numbers are
different. After some driving around we did find Banbury Cross but did not stop
to kick the ancient stones.
 |
| Banbury Cross is mentioned in the well-known nursery rhyme but that Banbury Cross must be different than this one which was erected in 1859. The original one may have been erected in the 16th Century but there is much debate about the origins of the nursery rhyme and, indeed, who was the “fine lady”. |
We made it eventually to Stratford-upon-Avon to find it also
considerably changed. My Father has what he refers to as a “damaged person’s
parking disc” so we were able to park in pole position and set off to see what
there was where. We followed signs to Shakespeare’s birthplace. We found it but
we were less than impressed.
You can see Shakespeare’s birthplace from the street but you
would not know what it was as there is no signage. A short step further along
is The
Shakespeare Centre. It is here that you can get in to see stuff. The
tickets were £15 odd each and there appeared to be a number of attractions
included. We were ripped off. Once inside the centre we saw the front the
famous birthplace. There was next to bugger all inside. The other attractions
were obvious only by the difficulty in locating them. These included Mary
Arden’s house but who she was I cannot say. No doubt I could look it up.
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| The Shakespeare Centre: avoid thus place like the plague or you will assuredly be ripped off. |
Thus disappointed we decided that some sort of refreshment
was called for. We had passed Hobson’s
Patisseries on the way up so we thought we would try them for size. We were
glad we did for we had a fine luncheon. I had some “award winning” pork pie
which was extremely good but I have to say, and I say this with all confidence,
that one that The G and I made at Christmas may have been slightly better. I am
not sure for I may be biased.
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| Hobsons Patisseries also offered these massive scones. I should have tried one instead of (no, in addition to) the pork pie. |
We headed back to my Parents’ place. We had booked to go to
dinner at The Cromwell Arms at Kislingbury post code NN7 4AG. This we duly
pumped into the satnav and off we went. First mistake was going south on the M1
rather than north. That cost us 24 miles and 30 minutes. Then we finally
arrived at our supposed destination to find no Cromwell Arms. There were no arms
at all; Cromwellian or otherwise. Mystified I pumped in “Kislinbury” and we set
off. After 5 minutes we found The Cromwell Arms. I had called to say we would
be late and when we arrived they said that some satnavs get the postcode
confused and dump you in the back of beyond.
Nonetheless we had a fine pub dinner and then home to bed.
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