Mean Street Blues: Sunday, July 28th

They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety. -Benjamin Franklin, statesman, author, and inventor (1706-1790) 

Woodhenge, Wiltshire!

Greetings from Sherford!

Up at 6:30am to make myself a cup of java while Coriandre rolled over and continued to snore gently! I spent the next little while answering messages, connecting with friends and relatives. Made Her Majesty a cup of tea and once sufficiently revived by her Twinings Everday she showered and made herself gorgeous. I followed suit and we went downstairs for breakfast. Tasty enough fare, (a variation on FEB but not quite up to The Grange's standards, either in quality of ingredients, presentation and service), but I was delighted to score a double espresso from the Kenco automatic dispenser in the Lobby. Took my steaming, frothing cup up to our room to sip on while I finished packing.

Sent a last few email messages as I was pretty sure that I wouldn't have an opportunity to do so again for rest of day, given our schedule. We were off to Amesbury, not so much to see Stonehenge, but take a look at a lesser known stone circle we believed there, suggested by Chris and Mandy the night before. We understood, from our own research and from talking to others who had visited the former, that given huge masses of tourists who flock to Stonehenge, that the poor cousin's barrow and stone monuments were a preferable alternative.

After we loaded our baggage into our patiently waiting Ford Focus, close to 10:00am, we set off full of high hopes and expectations. The day had dawned bright and clear after the furious rain of the night before and our hearts were high, our faces cheerful. Sad to say, Dear Reader, that this wondrous state of affairs didn't last too, too long, as cracks soon began to appear in the camaraderie which had blessed the start of our exciting, exploratory journey into Neolithic times. 

By and large we were heading in a north-easterly direction from Street to Frome and then in a a slightly south-easterly direction towards Amesbury. Although the landscape was simply gorgeous, rolling, green hills, high hedgerows, picturesque, tiny villages, one after the other, each, more often than not, boasting its own church and graveyard, the mental landscape was not so rosy.

Not long after we had left Street the Maps app on Cora Lee's iPad started acting up and its on again/off again, working/not working response was to plague us for the rest of the day's journey. Although we had the AA 2014 Concise Road Atlas Britain, (Speed cameras with speed limits included, a half-price bargain at £4.99 scored by Cora Lee in York!), finding our way, while actually having to negotiate unfamiliar roads and non-existent signage, at least to our eyes, was not as easy or uncomplicated as one could wish or imagine.

The long and the short of it was that the Pilot became frustrated, (having to concentrate on the narrow roads and busy roundabouts was strain enough without having to make spot decisions about where to exit and when), and the Navigator, in turn, became more than annoyed and shirty in response. And so it went, one nasty comment engendered another and in the twinkling of a fiery eye and a harshly spoken word, it was full scale war between The Sisterhood and The Brotherhood. The War of the Roses paled in comparison, I'm sure. Although the blood-letting and bitterness continued for sometime, we somehow managed to retrace our wrong steps after each wrong turn, and finally found ourselves, more by Good Luck than Management, on the A303, headed, at long last, in the general direction of Amesbury, (Thanks be to Gaia! Note the propitiation of the Earth Goddess, Dear Reader!), and around noon, lo and behold, we saw Stonehenge itself!

It was on the left hand-side of the road, a dual carriageway at this point, and because of the volume of slow-moving traffic (rubber-neckers to be sure), going in our direction, we actually had quite a good, prolonged view of the site, as we passed it, not all that far off the roadway, ringed as the magnificent stone circle was by an almost continuous band of tourists. Cora Lee snapped pictures with her iPad and I was able to catch some good looks as well, given our relatively slow travelling speed and the distance between the vehicles ahead.

However, couldn't imagine being in one of the cars on the other side of the carriageway as both lanes were bumper to bumper and the grid-lock extended for at least a mile or two away from Stonehenge itself. We assumed that this horrendous congestion was caused as a result of all the tourists making for the site, to the turn-off to the parking facilities for it, we'd seen earlier. The plight of those caught in this almost unbelievable traffic jam caused us to forget our own internecine quarrels and we found our way, without barb or venomous retort, into Amesbury itself.

Once there, a few minute later, our troubles began again, although we were not at each other's throats, this time. We found our way to the town centre and stopped a number of times to ask for directions but none of the locals had any idea of what we were talking about. Thought this rather strange but really had to accept that we were on a wild goose chase. At one point, (we were in a small mini-mall,) I waved down a passing police vehicle and officers told us about Woodhenge, (as name implies, a wooden version of Stonehenge), just outside town, although they implied it was hardly worth a visit. Thanking them we decided to investigate since we had already made the trek.

Without too, too much difficulty we did find the site. Basically, it is a two or three acre, fenced field, (sheep graze quite contentedly in adjoining pasture land), with stubby concrete posts set into the ground, more or less, in the middle of it. The plaque near the entrance gate informs one that the site dates from sometime between the Neolithic/Bronze Ages. Archaelogical investigation, carbon dating, etc., has lead researchers to understand that timber was used instead of the stone monoliths which characterize Stonehenge. The concrete “posts” allow one to visualize, more or less, the three concentric circles which form the site. Apparently these were arranged in a similar fashion to the placement at Stonehenge, aligned with the movement of the sun and other planetary motions. Having had more than enough difficulty finding this spot, with the aid of a printed map, a so-so GPS and a questionable, surly Navigator, I was in no mood to start taxing my already befuddled brain with far more complicated astronomical questions so snapped a few pictures of the sad concrete stumps and we returned to the car.

Return trip was far easier and psychologically more pleasant. We did manage to avoid having to return via the A303 at the point where we knew, roughly, the traffic jam to be. In fact, by the time we encountered a roundabout, leading towards Stonehenge, which we needed to cross over to avoid the jam, now forming in the other direction as well, we had to wait for sometime as it was filled with tour bus after tour bus after tour bus. Once this was behind us, however, we made reasonable progress. I had a better sense of where we going, recognizing some of the twists and turns we taken earlier. Once we were back in Street, the iPad decided to work again and since Cora Lee had already entered the Durston's home address into Maps, we literally had no difficulty finding the house. Ironic, inasmuch as it was of no help whatsoever in finding a World Heritage Site. Cora Lee was a tad miffed when I told her this as she took it as a slight upon her newly discovered relatives! I didn't bother to pursue this point, as you can well imagine, Dear Reader!

On a related matter, it seemed inconceivable to us, that advance signage for Stonehenge was virtually non-existent. The only warning, to reduce speed, etc., we had when we were close to the turn-off, (should we have wanted to take it), was at the point where one is directed to exit towards the site. Cannot imagine that this does not cause all sorts of confusion and frustration for the millions of tourists, local or otherwise, who come to visit this popular attraction. Perhaps it was just our unfamiliarity with road signs here in Britain but one would think that some authority or other would see the necessity for clearer directions. Here Endeth the Rant!

We pulled into the driveway of #6, Pedwell Hill, Ashcotte, only a few miles from Street around 2:00pm. The automatic gate opens when sensor cable, buried in the ground, is tripped, between 8:00am-6:00pm, otherwise a clicker is required. Chris had this installed, not so much for purposes of security but rather to rabbit-proof their property. Using one of the machines from the peat farm operation he had a trench dug down to underlying bedrock, (a few feet I gather), and then had fencing installed around the two acre lot on which their house stands to protect their flower and vegetable gardens. 

On the two or three times we visited the property, we always saw bunnies scurrying across the road and into the hedges which line their entire property, an additional five acres or so which Chris rents out to a farmer for hay growing. Numerous bales were scattered across the field when we were there. We had arranged to go for a tour of the peat farm operation the night before and they were quite flexible about timing of such. Just as we were getting out of the car, Chris came outside to greet us and told us that they were in the middle of talking to the architect they had asked to consult on some renovations they were considering for their house. The appointment was actually scheduled for this coming Tuesday but since he happened to be in the area he called to see if they would like to meet. We were happy to check our email while they discussed the matters in question and as soon as we figured out how to connect we inter-netted away.

Meeting concluded, we were introduced to Michael Stopher and his wife, Jo. (Jo is Michael's second wife as I gather the union to the Tough Prairie Goil he first wed didn't last.) Chatting briefly we discovered that he had lived in Winnipeg, (Sargent and Sherbrooke), for five years or so, from 1974. He had an engineering degree and after graduation was traveling in North America and happened to meet some other Winnipegers. One of them had a connection to Manitoba Hydro and at the time people were needed to work on various northern projects. Micheal ended up employed as a surveyor in Gillam, I believe. Curious indeed, given Dusty's life-long connection to Manitoba Hydro. Didn't think of it at the time but now I wonder if Michael ever happened to work with George or Stuart as I think both Corinne's brother and her cousin were somewhere thereabouts when they first we hired by MH around that same time.

Will have to quiz him further next time we meet. There is a slight possibility that we might see Michael again as his office is actually in Kingsbridge, Devon, very, very close to where Mandy and Chris own a cottage in Sherford, a tiny village close by. He suggested we might well pop in to see him as he knew we would be staying there once we left, en route to Cornwall.

After a quick java, Cora Lee and I, (Mandy was happy to stay home and keep Elly company), piled into Chris's fancy Range Rover, (ninth he's owned since inheriting his first from his father), and we drove a short distance to have a tour of the original Durston peat farm and now present day factory site for most of their garden products line. Although they are one of the top four producers, in the country, of such materials, the workforce, other than the office and sales staff, (about four), is remarkably small, (about six to eight, with Steve and Scott, Chris's younger brother and nephew, in charge of operations), simply because operation is so highly mechanized/automated. Chris himself, is in charge of Sales.

The factory itself, not an overly large set of buildings, is surrounded by stockpiles of the various ingredients which go into the different lines of compost they produce. In brief, front-end loaders dump selected bucketfuls, selected from appropriate stockpiles, into three huge hoppers, linked, underneath by a conveyor belt, and predetermined settings on the motors controlling the outflow, (“recipes” concocted by Chris through time and experience), allow the right amount of a given constituent to drop onto a conveyor belt which in turn deposits the resulting stream into a series of screening/grinding stages, followed by the bagging/sealing stage, then the loading onto pallet/shrink wrapping stage.

All automated with but one or two employees watching over entire process. From raw earth to finished product on wooden pallets ready to be loaded onto lorries. Chris mentioned that they have as many as 30 semis a day bringing in some off-site raw materials and or leaving with ordered product. While they ship all over the UK they do not own any delivery vehicles. As well, any major maintenance work, to equipment or machinery, or new construction, (office block was just enlarged/renovated, per esempio), is contracted out to local tradespeople. Minor repairs and alterations are handled, (quite nicely from some of work Chris pointed out), by the factory foreman. Interesting to note that the hoppers are from Holland, the bagging machine from Germany and the pallet loading device is from Denmark.

Next week Chris is flying to Holland for the day to investigate the possibility of having the plastic bags, (The material actually comes in huge rolls, pre-printed, according to product in question, and the bagging machine literally creates the appropriate size of bag before filling it.), supplied by a firm he feels will charge a far lower unit cost than his current supplier.

Unfortunately we couldn't actually go inside the factory to see the machinery there as Chris had given his keys to the building to an employee, for some reason or another, and he hadn't it back when we visited. 

Nevertheless we had a pretty good idea of how things went. Next we drove to the newest peat fields being worked. This was on land that Chris had the foresight to purchase from a neighbouring farmer, (who, incidentally, according to Chris, never got on with his father), 13 years ago. It has taken him that long to gain council planning authority permission to work these marshes. At a certain point there was very heavy community opposition, supposedly on environmental grounds, for halting/limiting peat extraction. Knowing this and knowing that the original family peat holdings were approaching their productive limits he convinced his brother that it was crucial for them to invest if their business was to continue and prosper.

It was a various courageous business decision on his part as land cost £250,000 and was not, at the time, zoned to allow peat farming. The holdings, now that they have received planning approval, will allow 20 more years of production, at least at current rates of extractive farming.

For my part, I was rather surprised at the rabid concern of the environmentalists, (not that I am unsympathetic to such issues, of course), but having seen the land which had already been worked out and which has very quickly reverted to its original state, except for missing layers of peat, obviously. No ugly scars or toxic contamination despoil the landscape. Processing really only involves drainage, digging long, trench-like ditches and covering relatively small adjacent sections of land with extracted material to be worked and then piled in windrows to dry.

These piles are then harvested to the stockpiles near the factory and the process continues. Once a given section of peat has been worked it fills itself with water and the natural sedges, shrubs and grasses soon take over, obliterating any evidence that peat farming has taken place. This may be a simplistic explanation but I certainly do not believe that Durston Garden Products is guilty of doing to the environment what the Alberta Tar Sands project is wreaking upon the fragile ecology of the North.

We then drove back to the administrative part of the operation to have a quick look at the offices, enjoying the historical photographs of peat farming Chris has had mounted and framed on the walls of his office. On the way off the property we passed a section of land that Chris is hoping he will be able to turn into an eco-camp site. He has already been approached by two national tourism organizations who would like to see the development of a series of canals that could be used by canoeists and kayakers. 

Another example of just how forward thinking is this remarkable Durston! As well, under his direction and guidance, the company has expanded its offerings to include products they buy in bulk and then repackage under their own name: Pelleted Organic Fertilizer and Wild Bird Food are but two examples.

Back home we had another quick java while Chris outlined the directions to follow to reach their county home. They were quite insistent that we should stay even though they were not going to be there until this coming Friday. They gave us a set of keys and the few instructions we needed to know about turning on the hot water and using the stove and where the towels were and which bedroom to use and we were off. Thanking them for the wonderful, wonderful time we'd spent together over the last few days, we said goodbye, hoping that we might see them again, either at their cottage, if we decided/were able to return, or in Cornwall, should they have the time to visit.

Trip down south went quite smoothly as much of it was on the M5 which we picked up shortly after we passed through the village of Durston! No known relatives there, however, at least according to Chris. Sailed along this motorway until past Exeter when we picked up the A38 toward Plymouth. Before reaching Exeter, however, at Buckfastleigh, we took the A384 to Totnes, where we then took the A381 towards Kingsbridge. Stopped before we were near Kingsbridge as we were concerned that if we waited too long, shops might be closed as it was sunday evening, just before 7:00pm by then. Pulled into a service station with a small convenience store and bought some dinner/breakfast fixings and two bottles of wine.

Continuing on we followed the A379, out of Kingsbridge, towards Dartmouth, making our way through three lovely villages: West Charleton, East Charleton and Frogmore. Just out of the last we saw the sign for Sherford and we knew we were almost there. Had to drive about a mile or so, up a long, winding, narrow, narrow one car lane, hedgerows almost brushing both sides of the car, at times. I crossed my fingers that we'd not meet any oncoming vehicles as I didn't relish backing up in such confined quarters and the tiny pull-outs, if any, were few and far between!

Lady Luck smiled on us and we rounded a corner and the village church Chris had told us about, came into view and I was delighted to back into the parking spot beside the Malt Scoop, (a former pub), Sherford, TQ7 2AU.

Didn't take us long to unload the car and take a quick look around. What a fabulous country retreat. The garden, while relatively small is simply lovely, filled with flowers and shrubs of all sorts and lavender. Gorgeous stone patio with a stunning view of the hillside beyond the church. The dwelling itself could be out of a set for The Hobbit with its low ceilings, (The Horrido Brothers would knock themselves out, I'm sure, but fine for the rest of us.), huge curved ceiling beams, some studded with iron hooks for pots and pans and other kitchenware, massively thick walls which harbour window seats and wide ledges. Warm tiled floor in the kitchen with carpeting throughout the rest of the house, in the downstairs sitting room and upstairs in the five bedrooms. 

Two bathrooms, one an en-suite, and another, (both with full bath and separate shower stalls), for pushy guests such as ourselves. Rooms are all most comfortably furnished so we really are living in the lap of Luxury, Sheers Luxury. Really most generous of Chris and Mandy to open their splendid cottage to us. Had to pinch ourselves to make sure we weren't dreaming and that our great good fortune was real, Dear
Reader! Once I'd opened Brightwater Bay, NZ, Nelson, 2012 Sauvignon Blanc, 13%, (gooseberry and green apple with some subtle mineral notes on the finish, not at all unacceptable for only £5.99/$9.79 at the petrol station), we set to work on preparing dinner. Cora Lee seasoned chicken thighs and then slow-cooked them in coconut milk. Just before they were done she boiled a head of cauliflower.

I put together a very simple sliced tomatoe salad garnished with Shropshire Blue from the shop in Cheddar. Once cauliflower was ready we served ourselves, spooning the coconut milk infusion over the vegetable. All this delicious fare washed down with a Pic Saint Loup, Languedoc, 2011, 13.5%, Syrah/Grenache, fairly rich and spicy for a Sainsbury's special.

Over the langorous meal we chatted about the trip to date and made some tentative plans for the days and weeks ahead. Dinner over Coriandre repaired to the sitting room to watch TV and I did the dishes. Not that many so I soon joined her and we watched quite an old movie about the young Winston Churchill. Didn't know most of the actors but Anne Bancroft played his mother. Bit dated but nevertheless, tremendously enjoyable and a delight to see it here in England.

Bed by just after midnight and I was too, too sleepy to read a page after I'd brushed and flossed. Cora Lee was able to keep awake to read a bit but I was fast asleep before she turned out her bedside light.

To be continued...

Pat, Sounds like some very good experiences in and around the Bath area. There are supposed to be thousands of miles of trails throughout the UK but the don't always leave you road free as I understand it. The 20k/h is a very good average speed, probably better than ours yesterday. 

Joined up with Pete and Rod at 8:30. The latter managed to get a puncture into Richmond - no wonder looking at the state of his tires. Coffee was next on the agenda and I must say that the side street in Steveston was quite spectacular with it's neat little shops and hanging baskets at their best. In all, the ride, which usually takes me 2.5 hours, became close to 4 which didn't leave me much time as I had Chris's wedding in the afternoon. We hosted a dinner the previous evening which was a lot of work. Fortunately, our sister-in-law, Lynn, was a tremendous help as was another friend of Sylvia's. The young people in attendance were very appreciative of their surroundings. 

The gardens, back and front, look great with the continued good weather and Sylvia had purchased an array of lights which we embedded into the soil. Some of the alcohol was outside on the driveway and the younger members tended to gravitate to that area. Chris had purchased the 'Growler' bottles of beer from the Powell Street Brewery which contain approximately 6 bottles. Very attractive bottles and very good beer.

   
The wedding was at park and Tilford Gardens and some of their entertainer friends sang at the end of the ceremony as well as at the Anne McDonald hall later where the reception was held. The whole thing was very well done. I've avoided the third day of celebrations - not sure I can be nice 3 days in a row.

Ray

Greetings from Street Somerset

Robyn, I'm so sorry to hear the news about Billy. My condolences to you and all your family.
Michele the funeral will be over. How is everyone doing?
Dad is still in hospital, was taken into Winnipeg for more test. His oxygen levels are still too low. He was fine one minute and then not.
I have met 2 of my third cousins. Very weird, they look like my grandpa Rowan. We met one in Cheddar when we visited the local church where the handyman insisted on taking us to the home of Roger Durston. he is 72 and had Church Farm which is in the village.

We met Chris Durston and his wife Mandy for dinner. Chris is 64 and from another grandfather but we all come from the same great great grandfather Aquilla Durston. My great grandfather George was one of three of five sons who went to Canada after their father died and left the farm to his later family.
 
All interesting I only hope I get to tell dad all about it. We are off to Amesbury to see standing stones and mounds then to tour the family the family Durston Garden Products business. Then we have the loan of cousin Chris's beach cottage for the night on our way to Turo. Love to all!

 Hi Patrick,

Many thanks for your newsy email. I haven't read it it detail yet but will do so in bed tonight when I have a bit of peace and quiet! Thought I would send you a quick email to say the 30th will be fine with us. We have to go to the supermarket in the morning to get some supplies after being depleted with Marnie and Ants visit so if you aim for the afternoon that would be great. Will sort something out for dinner, crack open a bottle and catch up!

Look forward to seeing you both then Cheers, Derek

Dear Patrick and Corinne,


How are you? Thank you for your message, Patrick, and I'm so sorry it has taken this long for me to get back to you! Things have been busy but not that exciting with us. I've been at the Faculty of Medicine for over a month now; it's going pretty well although this is the quiet time, so I don't think it's a real representation of what the work is going to be like.

Your travel plans have sounded so exciting! I hope you have been enjoying some much-needed home time relaxation after all that globe trotting. Are you settled into Vancouver life again? And hasn't the summer just been gorgeous. Did you see any fireworks last night from your place? We could hear them, and see the smoke, but couldn't actually see any action. It was infuriating! But we will be heading down to Kits Beach to see them next Saturday when All The Guests arrive. Much like you, we will be finding ourselves inundated with visitors very soon: we have an Australians, two Portlandians, and a Calgarian (via Melbourne, with her Aussie boys) all arriving at the end of this week. I hope the sunshine holds up.

In other news, Matthew just successfully got himself a new visa for a further two years of work and play in beautiful BC. It's timely; we had thought at one point that he would face 'extended vacation' (read: unemployment) while the visa office sorted out what's what, but it came through much sooner than anticipated.

If you have a spare evening over the next month, we would love to see you, and especially hear all your marvelous travel tales! Hope you are both keeping well, and best wishes to Chloe. xoxo Zoe and Matthew

 
 One must be drenched in words, literally soaked in them, to have the right ones form themselves into the proper patterns at the right moment. -Hart Crane, poet (1899-1932) 

Böötle ufm Moossee!

• Bottle of Moose! Sounds like Canadian Rye Whiskey!