Awake in the hotel with a big smile on my face at yesterdays good fortune. All around me are scattered pieces of my luggage, the pots and pans under the table, the dishes in the sink, cycling shorts hang dripping from the shower rail and the bible lies open at the page that was marked when I arrived in the room. It's a rather appropriate passage but perhaps I'll leave that for another day. Interesting as it is I shall choose to admire the positives of that religion whilst standing as a spectator. And so to work, a flurry of activity is the order of the morning. Priority number one is making use of the kettle and having 2 cups of tea straight after each other. UHT milk has never tasted so good; I'm on the powdered whilst camping and it's not even close in tea. Fresh is but a distant memory now. I start to think of fresh cows milk and come out of my day dream staring at my udder crème. Priority number two is getting the clothes dry. Unfortunately they have not dried overnight and I get to work with a hair dryer and the fan. When each item has had a good seeing to I drape it over the lamp to finish off but the energy saving light bulbs don't give off much heat and just makes the room darker. The usual for breakfast and a shower rounds off using my facilities to the full. Pack up the still slightly damp stuff and everything else and admire my behind in the mirror. Lots of spots, and getting worse. I decide to apply a liberal dose of sudocreme and just apply the udder crème to my shorts. As I leave I see my angel, the Manager from yesterday. She invites me to help myself to what's left of the breakfast bar so I take a few croissants jam and butter with me for elevenses. Kelly (false name) your kindness has left a powerful imprint on me, thank you so much. I slide off into the Bull Ring, get my wifi hit, take some photos of the Bull and inform my contact at Coventry Transport Museum that I'm on my way. I don't know if he has been reading my blog or knows I'm coming but I'd thought I'd drop him a line anyway. He replies and says he will be there.
Going a good old rate between Birmingham and Coventry I spy some booty in a hedge. My £1 a day instincts are heightened now and I go to investigate the shiny treasure. It's a helmet, could be a cycling helmet but is probably for kayaking, climbing etc. I strap it on the bike as I don't have a helmet and it might come in handy to attach the helmet cam to.
My first place to visit in Coventry is the Starley Memorial. Rather than just set my phone's sat nav to guide me there I ask a few local types. Local type 1 gets me started and heading in the right direction. Local Type 2 (Stu Huffer) is a retired round the world cyclists of many years ago, he knows where the memorial is, knows about Thomas Stevens and knows people who work at the museum. Hi Stu. Local type 3 is joined by LT 4 and 5 a couple in their 70's who wouldn't look out of place on a golf course in Florida. They get me a tad closer .Local type 6 is a Police Woman...she's never heard of it. Eventually I find said memorial and it's the wrong one, a few other types tell me I'm getting close and I find a second statue but alas no, but what's that in the distance glinting in the sunshine, an estate agents sign and next to it another piece of well chiselled masonry.
It's Mr Starley at last. He founded a bicycle factory in Coventry that employed a lot of people in the area. Along with Car Manufacturing, Motorcycles and host of other industry Coventry was a thriving city then, now unfortunately industry has been decimated and very little proof remains of its glorious pass. I tell Damien I'm just leaving the memorial and to expect me soon. When I arrive he is waiting outside for me. He kindly takes care of me for the afternoon, showing me round the museum which I can't recommend highly enough. Lots of hands on stuff and the period rooms charting the history of the car, bicycle and motorbike are a brilliant way of showing you not just a collection of vintage, retro and modern transport but a great little trip down memory lane to boot.
My favourite museum by a mile and its free..Go There! Chopper bikes, BMXs, Racers and Ordinarys, Boneshakers and Original Safety Bicycles and even formula 1 cars, remember the elf 6 wheeler? The two fastest cars in the world have to be seen to be imagined and juxtaposing this; Lady Di's mini metro and gangster jags and rovers. And as for the motorbike with the engine in the rear wheel...
My poor little brain couldn't take it all in, I definitely needed more time. After Damien had shouted me lunch he even took me around the little seen parts of Coventry: to the old and new cathedrals, the former is a special sight in its own right. The old cathedral just has the exterior walls standing and inside the new one has been built onto the old one. I believe it's by the same architect who designed the Roman Catholic cathedral in Liverpool. Please do correct me If I’m wrong on that one though. I really can't thank Damien and the museum enough for his time and kindness to help me on my Gonzo quest. I will be back.
Next stop Dunchurch, I waddle off out of Coventry down through many timber framed buildings of long before Stevens' time and go in search of the Methodist hall in Dunchurch. A lovely jaunt through the countryside in the sunshine finds me arriving at the unremarkable brick built hall but it's on the itinerary and another part of my journey has been realised. It's the best day of the trip so far and so as to make it home on Saturday I press on to try and make Weedon Barracks; my destination for the day. As lovely as the rolling English countryside is to the eye with its fields of golden corn and fine oak trees dotting the horizon at this time of year it takes some real effort to plough my course up and down fully loaded using muscles not yet built for this type of caper. I wheel into Weedon and find the Barracks/Armoury different people know it by different names. It now house individual commercial units and the security guard is not to keen on me going in as I'm not visiting any particular company and they have all now gone home it being 7pm. I take a few photos happy in the knowledge that at least the place is still standing and try to imagine the scale of it before it was encased in housing estates to each side.
Off I roll back down to Weedon and go in search of the canal. I've now reached the Grand Union Canal, the same one that flows through Apsley and which I spend many happy an hour enjoying.
I find a tap and fill the water bottles and find a quiet spot although the busiest I have encountered so far. My system works like this. Find a good spot in the day light then have some dinner without putting tent up. This gives me an hour or so to see what the “traffic” is like. If OK I tent up when it gets dark. As I'm enjoying my 4 day old Mediterranean vegetable medley and super noodles a couple walk by and tell me that a good pub is just a few mins down the tow path. It's friday night and apparently someone on Facebook is spreading the word that it is international beer day. I'm not sure if this is true, but a sign is a sign. I decide to pack all the luggage up and go with the bike in case I find a better spot. I'm not 2 mins down the path when I come across a couple of boaters having dinner sat outside their boat. I ask their opinion on the pub and they suggest another one, after a bit of a chat I'm offered a beer to take on my journey and rather than go to the pub I spend the evening with them, Hi Adrian and Tina thanks so much for the beers, most appreciated on a Friday night. I never drank the second one as I fell asleep and meant to bring it back in the morning and forgot. It will be cherished later in the journey I assure you. That evening I learnt that if you spy a little owl perched on a fencepost in the day then it is probably a Little Owl. I had seen one earlier and managed to creep up on it and get a photo. My owl knowledge has now swelled significantly.
I waddled back up the towpath and pitched my tent where I had dinner earlier, very close to the edge of the canal and nearly fell in a few times. I stuffed all my panniers on that side of the tent so I couldn't roll into the water in the middle of the night. I'm writing this now so I must have survived.
No comments:
Post a Comment