To the Festival of Quilts, by bus and train

Day 3 at F of Q

I don't like rushing breakfast so I'd asked for it at 7.30 so that I would have plenty of time before I got the 9.01 bus to Redditch station.  I scoffed - orange juice, blueberries and strawberries with yogurt, two poached eggs and two rashers of bacon, 3 half pieces of toast and marmalade and 3 cups of tea. With side dishes of Olympics on the TV and light conversation with Frank, the other guest, who was a coach driver. That day he was taking his party of scouts to the West Midlands Safari Park and a theme park. Didn't sound very scouty to me, unless they were going to practise survival techniques whilst actually roaming around amongst the lions etc.. 

At the bus stop I got chatting to another fine example of Mature Redditch Lady. We discussed the pub behind us that was being converted, rather tastefully I thought, into flats. From Redditch I got the train to the Festival of Quilts at the NEC and arrived about 11. First stop - coffee, and bar of chocolate as a treat. Coffee only average. Chocolate very nice.

My sister, Kate Dowty, who I was meeting later had warned me that the first day was always the busiest, and oh boy it certainly was busy. I whizzed round lots of quilts trying to avoid getting in the way of people taking photos of them, and nearly getting run down by mobility scooters. (Now here's a very politically incorrect thing to say, and obviously some people have very genuine reasons for using these things, but do SOME people use these things purely because they are, er, overweight and can't walk far for that reason? Hmmmmmmm, I wonder......) I don't dawdle over quilts that don't instantly attract me, I just speed past to the ones that do.

I also made a beeline to Gillian Travis, whose work I only recently discovered and like very much. She also cycles! What is it with cycling and sewing? I just keep meeting people who do both!

I have to say here that the Festival is HUGE, and you really need two days to take it all in (like the two ladies I chatted to over coffee who were staying the night in a nearby hotel). I know I missed a lot, but thankfully I did see lots to inspire me. One of my favourite quilters is Kim Porter of Worn and Washed Fabrics and I stayed at her stall and looked and chatted for quite some time. [In fact, I looked at her website this morning and there I am doing just that! The one peering over the end of her glasses...]

I also loved the work of  Ingrid Press. Something about the colours and fabrics and simplicity of them all. Some of her quilts were hanging up specifically for people to handle, which as you will know if you go to quilty things you are not allowed to do! I actually got told off for touching a quilted garment because I had completely forgotten you weren't supposed to. Immediately a nearby person-in-white-gloves accosted me and asked me not to touch, but she did so very nicely. I was the first person she'd had to tell off! Anyway I had a good handle of Ingrid's lovely quilts.

And then, while browsing the stalls, who should I spot but Florence of flossieteacakes.blogspot.co.uk! I recognised her from her photo on the blog, and we had a lovely chat about sewing and children's books. Florence was as nice in real life as she appears in her blog.

My sister treated me to lunch of chicken and vegetables and orange juice, just what the recovering cyclist needed. How she survives 4 days of the F of Q, what with teaching and all I don't know! I'd had it by 4.30.....in fact I was so tired I couldn't think straight and had to ask various people -

"How do I get out of this place?????" I just couldn't remember, or work out the map in the guide......what was that I said in an earlier post about being a good map reader?

So, back on the train. Now this is what gets me - I reckon that 80% of people at the stations were holding their smartphones out in front of them. You know how it is - a bag slung over the shoulder and the other arm stuck out in front with the phone in the hand. I am the sort of person who has an ancient Nokia and only uses it infrequently, and I wanted to grab all their phones and chuck them across to the other platform. And all these city dwellers look so unhealthy and miserable. I got on the train, which was packed, and asked one Young Person -

"Is anyone sitting here?"

as you do when someone is taking up a seat with their bag and not moving it even when they can CLEARLY see that the train is packed and someone needs that seat.................(there's even an official notice up at the station about not leaving your baggage on the seat!)

Oh what an effort it was for her to even begin to move that huge bag.........she looked as if she was thinking something very nasty about me...........  In the end I spotted another seat and with a "Oh never mind" to Young Person I sat there instead. Her very large friend, sat opposite her, was quite definitely taking up more than one seat and the poor lady sat next to her was being edged off hers.

Back at Redditch bus station, I asked Redditch Lady on her Mobile if there was a loo nearby I could use. She just about managed to distract herself from said phone long enough to tell me that I might be able to use the ones in Macdonald's upstairs. I ran upstairs (didn't have many minutes before the last bus went) and dashed into Prezzo's instead, apologising and asking if I could use their loo. I made it back to the bus just in time.

On the bus I asked the driver if he could tell me where to get off, informing me that I was staying in a B and B near some shops at Astwood Bank. He looked at me, in between biting his nails, as if I was mad. I don't think he actually spoke. He just shook his head. I said -

"You're not local then?"

Shake of head and more biting of nails.

Honestly, aren't bus drivers supposed to be knowledgeable and helpful? To give them their due, a lot are, but not this one. By the end of the journey I certainly felt like telling him where to get off.

I purposely sat next to what I thought might be another kindly and knowledgeable example of Perhaps Slightly Less Mature Redditch Lady, but she proved to be not quite so kindly and knowledgeable, and was also staring at her phone, so when I put to her the same question that I had put to the driver she just said -

"Sorry, I'm not going that far".

Humpffff.

Anyway in the end I just kept looking at the numbers on the buildings and I got off with just a short walk to go to my B and B. I did not thank the driver.....

Back at Corner Cottage, which incidentally is conveniently close to the start of the West Midlands Cycle Route, I spoke to Husband on phone. He had tried to get me booked into a B and B for Friday night, so that I could stick to my plan of cycling home in two days, using the West Midlands Cycle Route to and through Stratford-on-Avon and then travelling south on that route to Shipston-on-Stour, then home via Burford. (Here I should add that I will try and sort out adding route maps to any future posts on cycle rides, but meanwhile you can request to follow me on Strava if you so wish!) However, despite trying for two hours, everywhere was booked, so he had worked out a new route for me to cycle home in one day, about 65 miles, which was further than I've ever done in one day, but he said that if I felt I had to give up I could ring him and he would come and pick me up. So that's what we agreed I would do. I was looking forward to it.

I knew I wouldn't be making that call of shame unless I was really desperate!!! 

And so to bed, at the very grown up time of 9 pm.

Tomorrow - did I make it???? Don't miss the next episode!

[Have finally managed to upload my pics, so in the next post you can see my campsite, and loaded bike. Must get my camera sorted out before next trip....]

An upcoming house move, and a bike tour to take in the Festival of Quilts

Just to say at the start of this post, that I'm hoping to be able to add some photos, but if I don't then it's because either I couldn't get them onto the PC from the smartphone I used as a camera on my trip, or they just weren't good enough. In which case apologies, and I hope my words can paint a reasonable picture.

Since I last posted, quite a lot has happened one way and another. Back at the beginning of June we asked the estate where we live if it would be possible for us to move back into the house we lived in for 3 years when we were first married a mile away from here. It would be a lot smaller, should be warmer, and has less garden to look after (though still quite big!). The answer after a while was yes, and after much thought we decided to do it. It will be quite hard to move from this lovely, shabby, big old cottage where we have lived for 32 years (we came here with just our eldest son, and then had three more children) but it makes sense to move. We can't afford to buy in this area, and don't feel it right to move a long way away from family in order to be able to do so. When we moved here Husband worked on the farm, so the cottage was a tied one. He was made redundant 19 years later, taking a job in a warehouse, since when we have paid rent. Moving to the smaller house will save us some money, and once there we will think again about our future.

So since then we have been clearing out this house....... putting stuff on Gumtree, Freegle, and Ebay, and filling up the garage with stuff for passers by to buy or have for free. We have cleared out our outhouse and various sheds which were full of stuff that you keep because you've got the space to keep it! We also kept our firewood in there – that will be going with us. Youngest son has taken a couple of vanloads of scrap metal etc. to the recycling centre for us.

In the midst of this I seemed to get more sewing jobs than ever (not much time to do any of my own sewing...) but there came a point at the beginning of this month when I decided I would have to stop, partly because of all the sorting and packing there still was/is to be done and partly because I needed to start packing up my sewing room.

Our lovely granddaughter Lily is now a very smiley little person of going on 8 months, full of baby chatter, and we have another one on the way – our other daughter is expecting in January!

The Lovely Lily

Earlier in the year my bike was off the road for a while. A tyre blew and I realized that my ancient tyres really did need replacing.....in the end I went a bit further than new tyres and Husband put new wheels, derailleurs, chainset and tyres on it for me but for a while I had no bike, and felt very lost without it as it's my main means of transport. I began to think again about visiting Oxford Bike Works, not far from us in Steventon....... more on that in a future post! 

Meanwhile I also began to think that if I didn't get on and plan something then what with all the moving business and sewing jobs I was not going to have the bike tour that I'd been wanting to have this year. So then I thought, well what about if I treat myself to a visit to the Festival of Quilts again this year (last visit was 2012) and, er, cycle there? I knew there was an NCN West Midlands Cycle Route which I could pick up further north in Oxfordshire, which would take me into or quite close (depending on how brave I was...) to Birmingham and the NEC where the Festival takes place. So after much planning and changing of the route, and buying a very lightweight tent, that's what I've just done!

So come with me on my first ever bike tour.....

Day 1

I had originally planned to pick up the West Midlands Cycle Route at Shipston-on-Stour (after camping there the night) but that didn't really fit in with the plans to go to the Festival of Quilts unless I took the brave step of cycling right into Birmingham, which I didn't think was a good idea as the route doesn't go right to the NEC, though I'm sure it's possible to use other cycle routes to get there. So instead Husband and I planned that I would go from here to my first camping stop at Aston Somerville, west of Broadway, roughly via Faringdon, Filkins, Burford, and Bourton-on-the-Water. I changed the route slightly as I got closer to Aston Somerville to what were quieter roads. The next day the plan was to cycle to just south of Redditch, where I would spend two nights in a B and B, travel from there to the Festival on the Thursday by bus and train, and on the Friday to set off back home, spending another night camping, probably near Shipston-on-Stour, before cycling home the rest of the way on the Saturday.

I had pieces of map printed off from Husband's OS Memory Map on the computer, and I also had his old smartphone (not using as phone) with Memory Map on it, so could use that and the GPS signal if I got lost. I do tend to get lost, despite being, actually, quite a good map reader...... I read a book recently by a man who had done a lot of running who also had a habit of getting lost, but had come to accept it as part of his running life. I like that. Getting lost isn't always bad. I like maps and can happily sit and read one for pleasure. My father worked for the Ordnance Survey when he was young – perhaps that's where I get it from.

I'd done most of the packing of panniers the night before, using my lists from last year's overnight stay in, and ride back from, Winchester as an aide. Let me just say one thing here which proves important later on...... several days beforehand I had taken the sleeping bag out of its stuffsack and left it to air, and then stuffed it back in the day before the ride. I then realized that it was rather big – not that heavy but big in dimensions. I could have got it on the back rack with the tent but it would have made getting into the panniers very difficult, so at the last minute I decided not to take it, but instead took 3 pairs of Husband's leggings and Rab waterproof overtrousers, plus my Primaloft winter jacket, aiming to put all that lot on at night instead of using the sleeping bag. So on the bike I had the rear panniers, the tent on the rear rack and the small homemade bar bag I made last year. 

I set off at about 8.10, slightly later than I'd hoped, but it wasn't for want of getting up early (5.30) – it was just all the pfaffing around with what to take to sleep in that delayed me (eldest Son, note – Mother pfaffs too...). The weather was warmish, but windy, which made for quite a struggle riding. My first stop was at Filkins, about 15 miles away, at the Cotswold Woollen Mill, which I can highly recommend for refreshments (I had coffee and a scone) and toilet facilities, and a lovely garden (or cafe) to sit in. 

Next stop was Windrush, near Burford, where I made my first mistake regarding eating. I thought I'd have what I'd planned for lunch, which was one of my John West tuna fish meals, which I normally like, but I just couldn't stomach it, and ended up wasting half of it. Then at Bourton-on-the-Water I stopped again (WARNING: Stay away from this place in summer!!! Chock a block full of tourists and CARS!) wanting a cup of tea, and thought I'd better try and eat again, aware that I hadn't actually eaten that much, but could only fancy cake, so asked for fruit cake, which they didn't have. I had carrot cake instead, but left half of that too......

Unfortunately this all left me feeling rather bloated, and together with the strong wind (no not me, I was bloated but not windy...) I really struggled on the next part of the journey. It took me past the Cotswold Farm Park (fans of Countryfile will be familiar with it as Adam Henson's farm). There were also two quarries up this road as well and so lots of lorries were thundering past me. I wouldn't use this road again if I had the choice.

I made more stops to obey the call of nature, and to drink and eat some fruit and nuts that I always take with me on bike rides. Last year on the way back from Winchester I experienced the “bonk” a few miles from home and I was conscious that I didn't want this to happen again, hence the constant nibbling.

I finally reached the campsite at Aston Somerville (www.manorfarmglamping.co.uk) just after 6 pm (51.6 miles). It was their “Wild Camping” bit, with a compost toilet, a washing/washing up area, and an outdoor shower (not literally outdoor, but in a wooden shed!). At first I thought I was the only camper there, but then in the adjoining field I found two ladies camping, and chatted to them a bit. Even so I was surprised to find the place so empty. I pitched my tiny tent in a sheltered spot in the same field as the loo etc., so I wouldn't have to walk far if I needed to go in the night. I didn't really feel like eating any of the food I had left, although I drank plenty of water, which the two ladies had kindly given me to save me walking quite a distance to the farm to get drinking water.

I think I got into my tent about 8.30, as I was very tired. I had on merino leggings, my cycling trousers, and the waterproofs over the top, plus the vest top and shirt from the daytime, a windproof jacket and the winter jacket, plus my shoes and socks. No camping mat by the way..... Then I took the winter jacket off and draped it over me as I thought I might prefer that. I had the flaps of the tent at least partly open at first as I do not like being totally shut in (I always like the curtains drawn back at home at night in the bedroom, and the window open summer and winter). After a while I began to get a bit chilly, so put the jacket back on, and zipped up the flaps a bit. Later I zipped them up completely.

I then spent the next few hours very cold indeed. Throughout all this I was both praying and constantly trying to think of the best way to try to prevent myself from getting any colder. Stay in the tent, get out of the tent (but let cold air in) and jump up and down, even go and disturb the two ladies and ask to share their tent??!! Believe me I was desparate, and I kept looking at my watch longing for the dawn to come. I thought – do people who get really cold go to sleep and never wake up? I also thought of homeless people trying to stay warm. At one point I got up and went for a wee (not to the compost loo I'm afraid, just a squat by a ditch....) and got a large plastic bag out of my panniers to put my legs in back in the tent. Eventually I also got all my spare clothing out of the bag I was using as a pillow, and my towel, and draped it all over my legs.

I knelt up at one point (the tent was too low to sit up), put on my head torch, got out pen and notebook and forced myself to scribble things down, to pass the time and to keep my brain occupied. It was also warmer kneeling up than lying down. Oh and to cap it all the ground was very hard....(bruised hip the next day) and my tendency to get cramp in my feet was worse than usual, perhaps due to the cold. Here's some of the rubbish I wrote -

“2.25 am. Kneeling in tent writing with headtorch. ABSOLUTELY FREEZING. Can't sleep so trying to be vaguely active.”

“Ate one bite of Nakd bar which I had in rucksack which is in tent with me but it tastes weird but will try to eat more.” 

“Now 2.44. Might try and sleep again. Traffic noise awful even though in distance.” [Must have been the way the wind was blowing as the main road was quite far away].

Well, I thank God that I got through it.  Husband, who's a bit of a weather expert due to his hobby of paragliding, told me later that it probably got down to 5 degrees that night.... At 4.15 I got up, even before the birds, and started the whole process of packing up etc. etc. Once again eating was very difficult – I had some muesli but had to put most of it in my bag of rubbish (properly disposed of at the farm later) as I just couldn't get it down. But I got the energy from somewhere to cycle on my way, leaving the campsite at 7.15. I'd seen an early morning dog walker but no-one else at all.

I was going to skim over this awful camping experience and pretend it didn't happen.... 

I haven't been put off camping. I'll just do it differently next time!

Tomorrow - a kindly farmer's wife sustains me with tea and toast!