TASHY TRAVELS
These are some stories from my travels in 2019.
I hope you enjoy the text and the pictures.
COTSWOLDS 5 - August 2 2019
Our last day in the Cotswold and, to my mind, the best. We decided to go to the little sleepy (excluding tourists) village of Bourton-on-the-water. It is regularly voted one of the prettiest villages in England and the photos below show you why. We eventually found a place to park on the outfield of the local cricket club (more later) and then set out to walk alongside the River Windrush, criss-crossing the various bridges we came across.
Obviously we had to stop for a ice cream but had decided to make our way almost to the end of the village and visit the local motor museum. Outside Jen was able to think back to her very first car, a purple mini I bought her for her 18th birthday. Contrary to what those who drove with her in those days may be thinking, this isn't the same car shortly after she put it through a hedge. It always seemed to be her mother's car she used when having an accident and, again, costing me yet more money but possibly stopping an unwanted child being born in Great Bentley.
There was also an open top version of the car my father had when I was young, pictured on the left. This was the one I fell out of when we were travelling to my grandparents in the summer of 1953 and the passenger door opened as we went around a roundabout. On the right is an open-top version of our next door neighbour's car which I used to travel to school in. This was also the car, or a similar version, that Stirling Moss used to win 3 Coupe des Alpes rallies.
Here, suitably enhanced by Rachel, Cassie and Henry, was a car I never rode in but would have loved to have sampled. The Jaguar XK140 was loosely based around the Le Mans winning cars that Jaguar produced, winning the famous race 5 times in the 1950s. The museum was far larger than I had thought it would be and there were some static displays where Cassie and Henry pretended to drive an old farm tractor.
After we left the motor museum we searched about a bit for somewhere to have lunch and after a brief walk along the river where we found most places fully booked, we turned round and went back to a really lovely pub which, as with most places in Bourton, was also alongside the river. Here we had some food, had a drink and learned that beer mats placed on top of your glass can stop the rather too numerous wasps or bees from settling inside to share your drink.
When I was young and we used to stay with my grandmother and aunt in Slough a special treat would be to be taken to the model village at Beaconscot. I was fascinated with its scaled-down houses and hotels, farms and shops but the best thing about the model village was that it had model trains running all through the site. Having left the pub replete, we walked back along the river having decided that we would make a visit to the model village in Bourton, and this was actually a model of Bourton itself. Obviously we stopped for another ice cream before entering the model village.
Although there were no trains, there are no trains in Bourton so to find any would be a little bit of artistic licence, I was enthralled all over again at the care and detail that had gone into the building of this model village. It is a one-ninth scale replica so Barry and I felt also adult as we wandered around. It was created by a previous landlord of the Old New Inn pub, being built behind that building. It took local craftsmen five years to construct and was opened on the same day as the coronation of George VI on 12th May 1937. We were even able to see the motor museum again, this time looking more like the Old Water Mill that it had been.
I also think it may be the only time that I have seen my name included in any model village anywhere. I was delighted to know that no one was supposed to sit or stand on the roof of my shop and wondered how many people had tried before they thought to put up a notice. I suppose somebody had although I don't see any notice about bungee jumping off the Eiffel Tower after A J Hackett did it in 1987. Just a few more photos for you.
And amazingly inside the model village is a model (arrowed) of the model village which contains a model of the model village inside the model of the model village. There is probably a model of the model village inside the model of the model village which itself is inside the model of the model village contained inside the model of the model village but there was a fence around the model of the model village and I couldn't get close enough to see. James, Rachel and I had to then leave Bourton-on-the-water but we left the others wandering around having a further look. However, when we got back to the cricket pitch a new notice had appeared saying cars had to be removed by 5.30pm, it was 5.32, and the site screen was being put up and someone was mowing the outfield. We telephoned Jen, and Barry's little legs were forced into a bit of a sprint as he sought to remove their car from deep mid-on before the match began.
The reason for our departure was that we were driving, as in the Royal we, up to Altrincham that night, staying overnight in a hotel and going to visit Rachel's great aunt(?) Joan and her husband Anthony. We did indeed meet them, they were delightful people and not only because they took us out to lunch, had a lovely chat and I exchanged addresses saying we would send each other a Christmas card. Last week I sent my off and the same day I received one back. I hope theirs arrived safely because when I wrote it I realised I didn't know their surname and left a gap. I then picked up all my cards to post, bought stamps and sent them off without asking Rachel for the surname.
Our last day in the Cotswold and, to my mind, the best. We decided to go to the little sleepy (excluding tourists) village of Bourton-on-the-water. It is regularly voted one of the prettiest villages in England and the photos below show you why. We eventually found a place to park on the outfield of the local cricket club (more later) and then set out to walk alongside the River Windrush, criss-crossing the various bridges we came across.
Obviously we had to stop for a ice cream but had decided to make our way almost to the end of the village and visit the local motor museum. Outside Jen was able to think back to her very first car, a purple mini I bought her for her 18th birthday. Contrary to what those who drove with her in those days may be thinking, this isn't the same car shortly after she put it through a hedge. It always seemed to be her mother's car she used when having an accident and, again, costing me yet more money but possibly stopping an unwanted child being born in Great Bentley.
There was also an open top version of the car my father had when I was young, pictured on the left. This was the one I fell out of when we were travelling to my grandparents in the summer of 1953 and the passenger door opened as we went around a roundabout. On the right is an open-top version of our next door neighbour's car which I used to travel to school in. This was also the car, or a similar version, that Stirling Moss used to win 3 Coupe des Alpes rallies.
Here, suitably enhanced by Rachel, Cassie and Henry, was a car I never rode in but would have loved to have sampled. The Jaguar XK140 was loosely based around the Le Mans winning cars that Jaguar produced, winning the famous race 5 times in the 1950s. The museum was far larger than I had thought it would be and there were some static displays where Cassie and Henry pretended to drive an old farm tractor.
After we left the motor museum we searched about a bit for somewhere to have lunch and after a brief walk along the river where we found most places fully booked, we turned round and went back to a really lovely pub which, as with most places in Bourton, was also alongside the river. Here we had some food, had a drink and learned that beer mats placed on top of your glass can stop the rather too numerous wasps or bees from settling inside to share your drink.
When I was young and we used to stay with my grandmother and aunt in Slough a special treat would be to be taken to the model village at Beaconscot. I was fascinated with its scaled-down houses and hotels, farms and shops but the best thing about the model village was that it had model trains running all through the site. Having left the pub replete, we walked back along the river having decided that we would make a visit to the model village in Bourton, and this was actually a model of Bourton itself. Obviously we stopped for another ice cream before entering the model village.
Although there were no trains, there are no trains in Bourton so to find any would be a little bit of artistic licence, I was enthralled all over again at the care and detail that had gone into the building of this model village. It is a one-ninth scale replica so Barry and I felt also adult as we wandered around. It was created by a previous landlord of the Old New Inn pub, being built behind that building. It took local craftsmen five years to construct and was opened on the same day as the coronation of George VI on 12th May 1937. We were even able to see the motor museum again, this time looking more like the Old Water Mill that it had been.
I also think it may be the only time that I have seen my name included in any model village anywhere. I was delighted to know that no one was supposed to sit or stand on the roof of my shop and wondered how many people had tried before they thought to put up a notice. I suppose somebody had although I don't see any notice about bungee jumping off the Eiffel Tower after A J Hackett did it in 1987. Just a few more photos for you.
And amazingly inside the model village is a model (arrowed) of the model village which contains a model of the model village inside the model of the model village. There is probably a model of the model village inside the model of the model village which itself is inside the model of the model village contained inside the model of the model village but there was a fence around the model of the model village and I couldn't get close enough to see. James, Rachel and I had to then leave Bourton-on-the-water but we left the others wandering around having a further look. However, when we got back to the cricket pitch a new notice had appeared saying cars had to be removed by 5.30pm, it was 5.32, and the site screen was being put up and someone was mowing the outfield. We telephoned Jen, and Barry's little legs were forced into a bit of a sprint as he sought to remove their car from deep mid-on before the match began.
The reason for our departure was that we were driving, as in the Royal we, up to Altrincham that night, staying overnight in a hotel and going to visit Rachel's great aunt(?) Joan and her husband Anthony. We did indeed meet them, they were delightful people and not only because they took us out to lunch, had a lovely chat and I exchanged addresses saying we would send each other a Christmas card. Last week I sent my off and the same day I received one back. I hope theirs arrived safely because when I wrote it I realised I didn't know their surname and left a gap. I then picked up all my cards to post, bought stamps and sent them off without asking Rachel for the surname.
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