Timeline - Monday 26th September 2013 - visit to Embsay

This morning I was determined to get out of Manchester but wasn't sure where to go - my dalliance meant I did not set off until midday.  I caught the First 52 to Broughton, and told myself if I could get cash out of the cash-making machine and get to the bus stop in time I would venture to Skipton.  I did manage to do this and was soon wending my way to North Yorkshire. 

However setting out so late I did not get to Skipton until about 2.20pm.  Our arrival in Skipton bus station was delayed due to an elderly lady making a very slow crossing of the road, and I missed the bus to Embsay by 1 minute.  I wasn't going to wait another hour for the bus so I started walking (it only took about 30 minutes - but all up hill!).  What's at Embsay I hear you cry .... well its the Embsay and Bolton Abbey railway. 

I got to the station entrance at just before 3pm and noticed the next train departed at .... 3pm.  I ran to the ticket office and asked if I was too late for the train, but it was ok, and the train departed about 15 minutes later.

We trundled along very sedately towards Bolton Abbey station, I bought an ice cream (£1.70!!) and we trundled back to Embsay.  Had I got my act together earlier and gotten to Bolton Abbey station two hours previous (as was originally planned), I would have visited the Abbey ruins as well - but they will have to wait for another day.

I got the bus back to Skipton rather than walk.  Pennine buses were running unusually a Saturday service this bank holiday. 

 

The journey back from Embsay took nearly 4 hours - and I was to say the least quite tired when I got in ... but, for all that, it was a wonderful hot sunny day out in the Yorkshire Dales (well the fringes of the Dales).

The road to 2013 part 7

May 1969 brought another move, this time to Kidderminster in Worcestershire.  We lived in the Greenhill area of the town at 102 Highfield Road.

My parents were in charge of the Salvation Army corps in the town.  I have a picture of my dad leading an open-air service in Stourport-on-Severn, just down the road from Kidderminster.  He is wearing his red tunic, which was meant to be cooler to wear in summer months that the traditional navy blue worn by members of the Salvation Army.

The hall was in a former Methodist chapel, but is not there now. The side hall was used for a time as a youth club upstairs.  In May 1971 there was a fire in the youth club, which gutted the building, and although the corps continued for a little while they left the premises in search of another.  The picture shows my dad surveying the wreckage of the youth club.

I first started piano lessons when we were at Kidderminster - my teacher was a kindly patient man who I through was quite elderly (but may have been in his 50s).  I enquired of the Kidderminster Historical Society and they suggested my teacher may have been Harry Morris.  He lived in Bewdley Street on the left going out of town just past the Grammar School.  The picture below was sent to me by Bob Millward of the Historical Society, and shows his house.

Our holiday in Summer 1969 was to Hafod in Mid Wales.  From there we visited Devil's Bridge.
The house was located right next to a stream which we as boys used to paddle in.  I remember my Dad fishing in it, and at least one night we had a fish supper.

In Summer 1970 we returned to Hafod.

Not directly linked to my story, but a picture of Kidderminster on August Bank Holiday Monday in 1969.  Who knows I may be in that picture somewhere, we were certainly living in Kidderminster at the time.

Timeline - Sunday 4th August 2013 - Gwenddwr and home

I really lay in on Sunday, not rising until 11am .... a leisurely breakfast and then spent some time reading a book, whilst drinking coffee and watching the persistent rain outside.  There is something relaxing in watching rain when you know you don't have to go out in it.

We went to church in the afternoon - and the church we went to was the chapel at Gwenddwr - http://www.websites.welshhome.net/sidonbuilth/gwenddwrchapel.htm - it is located in a field miles from anywhere, which of course is part of its charm.  A congregation of about 19 people met and sang hymns with gusto.  The only snag was I got mud on my trousers; if you know me well you will know my intolerance to mud.  The chapel was built in the time (or just after) when nonconformity was illegal - and it is wonderful that it is still getting a congregation.

After a bite to eat if was time to wend my way back to Manchester.  I had a Cadfael mystery to keep me company on the journey, but it was a shame to lose the tranquillity of Wales; swopping it with the hustle & bustle of Manchester was a poor swop.

Timeline - Thursday 1st August 2013 - Journey into Wales

After work I caught the 4.30pm train to Shrewsbury to begin my jaunt into deepest darkest Wales.  The journey down was uneventful, and the connection at Shrewsbury easy.  We were delayed slightly outside Craven Arms because the up train was running late.

If I were to move to another part of England, and monies allowing of course, I would love to live in Shropshire.  It is by far my favourite of the English counties.  The train from Craven Arms into central Wales called at a few of the small stations in Shropshire - Broome, Bucknall and Hopton Heath - all these stations had either someone getting off, or someone getting on; it proves how vital this train service is to these rural communities.  The last station in Shropshire is Knighton; the town it serves is in Wales, but the station is in England.

We trundled on even deeper into Wales until I reached my destination - Llandrindod Wells.  I was met by my good friend, and whisked away to their house high above the Wye in Brecknockshire.  Their dogs gave me a hearty greeting, and it was lovely to be able to relax straight away. 

Timeline Friday 26 July - Visit to Sheffield

After work I got the train to Sheffield.  I inadvertently caught the "stopping train", calling at Ashburys, Reddish North and ALL stations to Sheffield.  As far as New Mills Central the train was packed, mostly with commuters.  I got what seemed to be the last seat, and still they poured on to the train. 

Anyway we arrived in Sheffield and I thought, in my naivety, that I would catch the tram down to where James lives.  BIG MISTAKE!  I went to the tram stop for the station to be directed to catch a tram to Castle Square (in the other direction) where helpful staff would be there to direct me to the rail replacement service to Spring Lane, whereupon the trams would carry me to Gleadless Townhead and then another rail replacement to Herdings.  Firstly the ticket conductor let me pay £2.20 (which is a reasonable fare) and gave me my change, but no ticket.  On alighting at Castle Square I eventually got my ticket, but there were no "helpful staff", and the replacement buses were the other side of a busy city street.  I got the replacement bus and we journeyed to Spring Lane.  On the way the buses passed the front of the city railway station - so why were we directed to Castle Square to get the replacement bus, and not directed to the front of the station for the replacement bus??

When we got there, there was a further trek up hill to the Spring Lane tram stop.  No Supertram staff were there to assist or help and I had to reply on fellow travellers.  We got to the tram stop and waited, and waited, and waited, and waited.  Then the replacement buses actually went physically past the tram stop (which prompts the question why we couldn't have let off AT the stop, rather than having to trek up hill to it).

Eventually the tram deigned to appear and a few stops later we were the Gleadless Townhead.  No replacement buses to Herdings were in evidence, no Supertram staff to guide travellers to them - nothing - dumping people at the tram stop without any information.  Very helpful!  I did pop to the shop to get some milk and stuff, and then walked to James's house, which took about 30 minutes (thankfully downhill). 

The journey from Sheffield station took me over an hour and a half; its no way to run a tram service.