It's a smelly business
Monday 18th October 2010
Last Thursday I was travelling through the Vale of Evesham, past the rows of orchards, then on through Stratford and Warwick, thence via the M69 to Coventry, Leicester onto the joys of a leafy suburb just to the south of the city within the rolling folds of scenic Rutland. I was to speak to a suitably accredited Horticultural society and after locating the church hall I headed for a lovely little pub to gather my thoughts. As the nights are drawing in (as they say) it was quite dark as I parked up at the church hall and proceeded to carry into the hall my projector, extension cable and brochures for the evenings entertainment. A gaggle of charming ladies from the committee met me and offered me tea and help in any way. All I needed was to be shown where the loos were as it had been a long drive from Somerset, and the quick pint of Guinness was reminding me it was indeed a chilly night. Inside the small Gent's cubicle I made full use of the facilities then looked down to the sole of my shoe to discover that I had picked up in the car park a rather odious by-product of someone who had allowed their dog to relieve themselves in the the Church's car park! OMG! It was a beam me up Scotty moment. What was I to do? I was wearing a heavy pair of brogues with the sole rather like a 4x4 tyre. The mess was unbelievable and unbearable - the stink was making me wretch. I threw wads of toilet roll at the problem and prayed to God to intervene with a miracle. And low it came to pass that a toilet brush came to my salvation! I was scrubbing and scrubbing with this toilet brush spraying the walls of the small toilet with a particularly smelly pebble-dash. After minutes that seemed more like hours I managed to clean most of the dog poo out from the tread of my shoe, but I was still conscious of the stink that surrounded me - what was I to do? what could I do? Bluff it I thought - and so I did. I think I got away with it, although through my presentation of Quality Garden Tours all I could smell was the stuff that one usually puts on herbaceous borders to enhance the blooms!
Last Thursday I was travelling through the Vale of Evesham, past the rows of orchards, then on through Stratford and Warwick, thence via the M69 to Coventry, Leicester onto the joys of a leafy suburb just to the south of the city within the rolling folds of scenic Rutland. I was to speak to a suitably accredited Horticultural society and after locating the church hall I headed for a lovely little pub to gather my thoughts. As the nights are drawing in (as they say) it was quite dark as I parked up at the church hall and proceeded to carry into the hall my projector, extension cable and brochures for the evenings entertainment. A gaggle of charming ladies from the committee met me and offered me tea and help in any way. All I needed was to be shown where the loos were as it had been a long drive from Somerset, and the quick pint of Guinness was reminding me it was indeed a chilly night. Inside the small Gent's cubicle I made full use of the facilities then looked down to the sole of my shoe to discover that I had picked up in the car park a rather odious by-product of someone who had allowed their dog to relieve themselves in the the Church's car park! OMG! It was a beam me up Scotty moment. What was I to do? I was wearing a heavy pair of brogues with the sole rather like a 4x4 tyre. The mess was unbelievable and unbearable - the stink was making me wretch. I threw wads of toilet roll at the problem and prayed to God to intervene with a miracle. And low it came to pass that a toilet brush came to my salvation! I was scrubbing and scrubbing with this toilet brush spraying the walls of the small toilet with a particularly smelly pebble-dash. After minutes that seemed more like hours I managed to clean most of the dog poo out from the tread of my shoe, but I was still conscious of the stink that surrounded me - what was I to do? what could I do? Bluff it I thought - and so I did. I think I got away with it, although through my presentation of Quality Garden Tours all I could smell was the stuff that one usually puts on herbaceous borders to enhance the blooms!
I went down a storm and the good people of the Midlands laughed at the right moments and clapped like thunder at the end. Again the committee ladies gathered round to cluck there approval. I have to say that I was conscious of much eye contact between the ladies, then polite sniffing - clearly thinking to themselves 'Oh dear poor Jean's got her problem again!' I scarpered as quickly as was polite and drove to my hotel with the windows of the car half rolled down.
Just when the night could not get any worse the A47 was closed diverting me into the wilds of Rutland and at one point I'm driving north up the A1. At last I arrive in the little village of Wansford and crash out in the Haycock Hotel. I took little rocking to get to sleep after my night's adventure.
The Haycock is a 16th Century traveller's inn situated on the Great North Road by the bridge over the river Nene - such celebrities as Dick Turpin and Mary Queen of Scots en route to her execution had rested there. The hotel had an old world charm with modern bedrooms and a conference centre tagged on at the rear of the building.
A morning meeting with Perennial (the Gardener's Charity) with whom we are organising two tours next year - one to the Menton Lemon Festival and the other a tour of Great Homes and Gardens of Northamptonshire. Most productive. Later I crossed the road to meet the Advertising Manager of RHS Publications who are based in Peterborough for another very productive meeting - the fish chips and mushy peas were nice too.
Time was passing and I had to get across further to the east. Leaving Peterborough the countryside completely changes as the world goes flat - completely flat with large empty fields that seem to stretch to infinity. Away in the distance I saw a large factory or possible nuclear reactor, but in fact it turned out to be the Campbell's Soup factory and a paper mill on the outskirts of King's Lynn.
I followed the signs to the Historic centre of King's Lynn hoping to be doused in cultural sophistication, but was only met with a rather fetching Banksy mural sprayed to the car park wall. In fairness as I strolled round a deserted King's Lynn in the rain I was beginning to think that there were possibly better things to do on a Friday night. That said I did have a nice walk around the large church of St Margarets and the old streets at the docks had been restored to their former glory - one Hampton Court caught my eye along with Devil's Alley.A brief relief was stumbling upon an old record shop that just sold old vinyl LP's, so I spent half an hour flipping through the music of my youth. Buying CD's on Amazon does not give you the same connection to the music as flicking album cover after album cover.
My talk to the King's Lynn Horticultural Society went down well if to a rather sparsely filled hall. The highlight of the evening was my slide projector going on the blink, leaving me in another sticky spot, but not quite as sticky as last night.
By 9pm I was on the road again heading home to a late night play on Radio 4 and a newly purchased CD of Golden Earring's Greatest Hits - Dad's Rock at its finest.
The long week and late nights was taking its toll and at a roundabout outside Coventry about midnight I almost crashed the car as I was travelling too fast and misjudged things. A stop for a Redbull snapped me awake and I made it home gingerly by 1.30am.
Saturday night found me in the Cotswolds welcoming the Friends of Lisbon Botanic Gardens to the UK. My good friend Tony Russell (one of the great horticulturalists in the UK) gave a wonderful short presentation on his recent Gardens of China tour which the Lisbon group hope to visit in March. Home just in time for the last game on Match of the Day at 11.30. Busy week.
posted by Brightwater Holidays at
20:34
