That sounds right up my street , if you'll excuse the terrible pun. I don't drive so may have to get a mate to drive me as it sounds like Staffordshire's fading public transport system may not deliver me there. This and white ladies priory are definite goals this year.
That's interesting. My cousin lives near Crewe . Apparently it a Shropshire based name from way back. I am related to the playwright William Wycherley whose family stole vast swathes of land and property in Shropshire and when it was eventually taken back they were very aggrieved and had become all Knights Templar-y !!
But my cousin's name wasn't Wycherley , he was one of my beloved uncle David's sons , his mom was my mom's sister.
But talking of strange places , but this was quite benevolent , in Hodnet near crudgington (near Shrewsbury) was a place my friends and I called The Caves , a vast plot of then undeveloped land that had caves , forests , an obelisk ( the one I stupidly crawled round the unguarded top ledge in another post ) and it was quite magical. Once , we bounded up the stone spiral staircase ( I was young , thin and hadn't started smoking yet ) to reach the top to take in the view and on the top stair sat a forlorn youth wrapped in a cape and holding a staff. Alright, mate ? We ventured and all he said was , I'm waiting for the grand wizard to release me , so we thought it best not to interfere , really. And made our excuses and left. Probably a good thing as it no doubt prevented me from crawling round the toppermost edging outside again , of which there were two exits....the entrance back to the staircase OR a plummet of at least 80 feet through the forest trees far below to certain death . And as you will have read , my track record wasn't exactly spotless regarding trying to provoke the Grim Reaper ( even if I COULD wave relevant blue Oyster cult albums in his face ) There were rumours of Druids frequenting the place , especially the caves and occasionally you might find strange discarded rags within but it was a magical place. We all left Shropshire soon after and now they have long developed it , to attract tourists which is a shame as it was other worldly and just had an air about it , especially when the sun started to dip .... Obviously some other people went there too but it was kind of Our Secret
And Hodnet had / has a great pub nearby called The Bear....
HOWEVER , by far the strangest place I've ever had to be in was in the peaks. It was probably the mid 90s , maybe as early as 92 or 93 and being one of those student types with short pockets I needed a job in the holidays. Upon visiting the Job Centre , (you know when you could actually go inside and LOOK FOR JOBS and someone would help you follow up there and then) I spotted a live in bartending job in Ashbourne, Derbyshire and was told they are DESPERATE (thanks) and it would last for the two weeks holiday period at least. They phoned the place and I was accepted and urged to rush home and pack and I seem to recall somebody actually gave me a lift to Ashbourne , it was bloody miles away , the employer I think . So much later I arrive at the hotel in Ashbourne and it turns out it wasn't there ,it was even further away , a place called Hadfield. Yes. But years before it was ,ahem , FAMOUS.... So after waiting about for another two hours or more I was driven to Hadfield and delivered to this pub ,the name escapes me. I was told to put my bags in the workers sleeping quarters and come behind the bar to start. Ok. I kid you not , the sleeping quarters was LITERALLY a large old barn/stable with no lock on the door (this was on one of the streets of a small market town)and stairs that you went up to be greeted by a few beds and that was it. Despite being a tad disconcerted, I dumped my bags on a bed and went back to the pub. The owner was quite stand offish ,not demonstrably cheery at my presence apparently despite my filling some "desperate need" but took me behind the bar and showed me the basics for now. I don't recall another barperson , there was me and he was here and there and the kitchen was open. It was a Friday evening.About half 6 I think. Not particularly busy. But it was early doors as they say. I can't put my finger on it but it was just.... I dunno. Most pub or restaurant places have some kind of atmosphere , staff dynamics , people wanting to know a little about you , banter , a sense of THIS IS US THIS IS OUR LITTLE PLACE but in a good way . But this place was just flat and soulless. I served a few people I think , some locals and this young couple who came in that were obviously out of towners...I can't remember if it was before or after they came in that the owner sidled up to me and announced "You do know you're not being paid for tonight ??!! You don't start until tomorrow..." and I just kind of shrugged and accepted the brazen cheek of it all !! The out of town couple didn't stay too long and left . I was then told by the owner to have a half an hour break , it was probably about half 7 , so I told him I needed to get something out of my luggage and I went to the barn bit and I'd already decided before I reached it that I wasn't hanging around here for a moment longer. I'm no snowflake ,I'm not one of these overly sensitive types but this place was creeping me out big time. The great escape was on. I grabbed my two large bulky holdalls (to this day I am stupidly incapable of traveling light ) that mainly contained my boombox and about a million heavy metal cassettes so they weighed a bloody ton. And I hurried into the street and headed towards the main road . I even saw that couple walking around, probably headed to their car to get the hell out too and they looked at me walking to the main road laden down and they had this look of "Didn't we.....?? Didn't he ....?? Wasn't he...??!!" on their faces. I almost called out to try and beg a lift but I think their expressions kind of put me off , so I smiled and carried on to hitchhike home... Which took bloody hours but eventually I made it back for about midnight ish. Maybe before.
Ronnie, keep an eye out for "Brokenwood" its a New Zealand crime series similar to MidSummer Murders, absolutely brilliant.
Love it...!
Wow. What made them deliberately ruin a wedding reception?
I had already been there for a week or so and they had never given me a chance. There was one ringleader who was a right *** but happened to be in a relationship with the chef and played on that; It was subtle but calculated. After initially threatening to down tools because "nothing was organised" they would serve half a table and then start another, so food is going cold and guests getting annoyed. No help with topping up wine etc. The bride, groom and family were also not impressed by their grumpy and frumpy demeanours and being overheard slagging me off...!
I would have done exactly the same as you. Sometimes, you just have to walk away and let what will be simply happen.I had already been there for a week or so and they had never given me a chance. There was one ringleader who was a right *** but happened to be in a relationship with the chef and played on that; It was subtle but calculated. After initially threatening to down tools because "nothing was organised" they would serve half a table and then start another, so food is going cold and guests getting annoyed. No help with topping up wine etc. The bride, groom and family were also not impressed by their grumpy and frumpy demeanours and being overheard slagging me off...!
For the record, this was relief hotel management whilst the actual restaurant manager was taking an extended holiday in his home country for family reasons and this was the last wedding of the season. They wanted me gone and were prepared to go to those lengths and the cowardly general manager wouldn't support me because he was afraid of upsetting them. What hurt was that I had been organising weddings for about two decades at that time and did know what I was doing, it was simply ridiculous but trust me it happened and I actually drove up the long lane away from the place with my headlights off, so desperate was I to avoid detection
Shame, as some of the other relief assignments were enjoyable and took me to places in Britain I hadn't previously visited.
Yeas, the one good thing the manager did was send me a cheque in the post (this was early-2000s). I went back to the place in 2016, it really is in a beautiful location on a river and about 45 mins from a famous University city. The elderly owner had passed away and it had changed hands and all the old staff had gone. I won't name names as many of the people involved are still alive but if anyone wants to pm I will divulge.
Nothing to do with 'wick' from 'vicus', given the Roman presence?
My mum and dad used to love the Fisherman's Cott and Bickleigh Mill - they spent many a happy weekend driving out there for something to eat and a general nice drive out along the lanes.Yeas, the one good thing the manager did was send me a cheque in the post (this was early-2000s). I went back to the place in 2016, it really is in a beautiful location on a river and about 45 mins from a famous University city. The elderly owner had passed away and it had changed hands and all the old staff had gone. I won't name names as many of the people involved are still alive but if anyone wants to pm I will divulge.
My next assignment came about a month later after I had placed another advert in the Caterer magazine. It was for a famous old hotel in Shropshire and I got about five months lucrative work out of that one. Despite the above experience it was a happy time in my life, I rented a small cottage in the Devon hills and my car was nearly new and so long journey up country were a pleasure (mostly). Sadly, my overheads of car + cottage were too high for the sometimes irregular work but I have fond memories of heading back down the A11/M4/M5 etc with big cheque in my pocket and some downtime in Devon, my first stop always being the Fisherman's Cott pub at Bickleigh Bridge for a pint by the river
Anyway, back to time-slips...
Creepy Small Villages. (Slemen has effected your brain Paul).
I lived in the tiny village (hamlet almost) of Poughill:
Or indeed from the Hwicce, who occasionally cropped up in unexpected places?
I have had melancholic feelings when in countries in winter (that are very hot in summer) even though it's still pleasantly warm for me (certainly in the daytime) and that are less crowded ie more enjoyable. Or should be.
I'm sure Killerton House is haunted. We used to spend a lot of time in Killerton Gardens (and my dad's ashes are spread in the orchard there). Haven't been back there for years - next time I'm down I must go for another nose around. I think there's a Bronze Age site on the hill in the gardens?
Saw this in a window. I can't quite make out what it fully says, but it seems ominous!;
It seems to say "police aware [...no?] damage to property [...] officer will be [...]
Actually that sounds very familiar, if not worse !! Glad you got away too !
That'll stop the little blighters.
