This one, near to where I live is lovely.

The subsequent visits have not go got any better…

Today, there was a need for me to visit (just visiting) my local hospital, several times. In between visits we had lunch in the Furnace Kitchen at Coalbrookdale where I chose a croissant filled with butternut squash, caramelized onion and Feta cheese. It was delicious.

Currently many routes to Coalbrookdale are subjected to roadworks and closure. This meant that we had to take the long route home via ‘The Oxbow’ which is stunning after the recent heavy rainfall.

With my hospital walks and a little bit of food shopping (miles) I clocked up at 4.75 miles.

Ledbury is a market town and civil parish in the county of Herefordshire, England, lying east of Hereford, and west of the Malvern Hills.

It has a significant number of timber-framed structures, in particular along Church Lane and High Street. One of the most outstanding is the Market House,^[2] built in 1617, located in the town centre. Other notable buildings include the parish church of St. Michael and All Angels,^[3] the Painted Room^[4] (containing sixteenth-century frescoes), the Old Grammar School, the Barrett-Browning memorial clock tower^[5] (designed by Brightwen Binyon and opened in 1896 to house the library until 2015),

We took mum on a day out to Dorothy Clive Garden. The weather was kind to us and the garden was spectacular with the Laburnum arch and Rhododendrons in full bloom. We toured the top part of the garden before lunch and the bottom part of the garden after lunch. Before we left we couldn’t resist revisiting the waterfall and the Laburnum arch.

We then then took mum on a mystery tour to Bridgemere Garden Centre before we retuned to her house where we had a cup of tea on the patio. Whilst there I spotted a gorgeous baby blackbird trying out his wings. He had a short stubby tail and struggled to balance as he flew clumsily from one perch to another. He settled in a low tree and stayed there for a while before somehow managing to fall out of the branches, landing on the floor just behind where we were sitting. He scuttled off into a corner where Father blackbird kept a watchful eye on him. I hope he didn’t hurt himself as he fell and that by now he has clumsily made his way back to his nest.

Drifting in and out of my dream, I heard an alarm going off. As I came to I reached out for my glasses. Where were they? I couldn’t place my hand on them in the usual place. I had the same difficulty with the light switch so I sat up in order to put my slippers on just as Mr C said the fire alarm is going off. As I put my feet in my slippers I wondered why my holiday slippers were by the side of my bed. It was only then that I became awake enough to realise that I was not at home!

I tried to make sense of the fire evacuation map (it was only later that I realised the map was upside down). Normally I look at on arrival in a hotel I blame lockdown for befuddling my brain.

It was 3am in the morning and as I opened the door the alarm stopped. I noticed a box outside our door; breakfast had arrived. Much later, after another small wobble with the fire alarm, and some sleep, we opened the box to find a “cardboard” croissant and jam, a blueberry muffin (factory produced and packed rather than fresh), an Alpen bar, an apple and a carton of orange juice. This was most unsatisfactory as a breakfast experience in what is advertised as a quality hotel. Mr C abandoned the croissant (too cardboard) and I abandoned the blueberry muffin it was too sweet.

Mum, due to being almost deaf, was not disturbed in the night be the fire alarm. She awoke in the morning to find two breakfast boxes outside her door. Due to allergies she had to mix and match between the two boxes for items to eat.

Plan B came into operation we called in at a nearby motorway service station for bacon butties, freshly cooked pain au chocolate and freshly made tea. We enjoyed these tasty delights as an in-car breakfast picnic. It was a first for me, but it seemed like heaven after the hotel offering.

We visited Bath to see the Abbey and then having time to spare we visited the Circus and the Royal Crescent. Mum didn’t seem to impressed by the vistas they provided. Bath was busy and attractions needed to be pre-booked so we decided to press on. We picked up freshly made sandwiches and left the city to enjoy eating them in a quieter place where we could decide what we would do in the afternoon.

Farleigh Hungerford Castle was nearby, afternoon tickets were available so we booked in and had an enjoyable sunny afternoon exploring the grounds.

Returning to the hotel, we enjoyed tea and cake on the hotel terrace before retiring to our rooms to freshen up before dinner.

During dinner we were partly attended to by the delightful young man who had served us on the previous night. The other person attending to our needs gave us the impression that customers were a nuisance.

After a nightcap we returned to our room to find two breakfast boxes placed outside our room before we had even gone to bed!!!

The Church of St Swithun upon Kingsgate has been a place of worship for more than 750 years. The church, built in the middle ages is located above the medieval Kingsgate, one of the principle entrances to the city. The church is unusual in that it forms part of the city wall.

From Wikipedia:

The first mention of the church is recorded in 1264, when it was apparently burned by the citizens of Winchester during a dispute with the Priory.^[2] Most likely the church served as a chapel for lay people who worked for the Abbey.^[1] In 1337 some woodwork was done on the church, costing a total of fifteen shillings, and in 1484 the windows underwent repair.^[2]

St Swithun was an Anglo Saxon saint, born in Winchester and in 852 becoming the 19th bishop of the city. He died in 862 when King Alfred the Great was still a young man.^[2] It is possible that St Swithun was tutor to the young king, and accompanied him on a pilgrimage to Rome.^[2]

By the 17th century the church had fallen into disrepair, and had become home to one Robert Allen, the porter of Kings Gate, and his wife, “who did and doth keep swine at ye ende of the Chapell”.^[1][2] The situation was improved around 1660 when the church was restored, its bells re-hung in 1677.^[1] It has remained a place of worship since that time.^[2]

Winchester City Mill has stood at the heart of the historic city of Winchester – the capital of Kind Alfred’s Wessex – since Saxon times. With a history of over 1000 years, Winchester City Mill is also the oldest working watermill in the country.

A rare surviving example of an urban working corn mill, the City Mill was rebuilt in 1744 and remained in use until the early 20th Century. Having entered the care of the National Trust in the late 1920’s, the City Mill was restored to full working order in 2004.

When we got up we found that the weather was rather inclement so, after we had finished our breakfast and checked out, we decided not to go into York but instead to keep our options open and perhaps visit a property or museum on the way home.

As we were driving the weather soon turned to snow and the world either side of the motorway became white. We decided that stopping off was not the best option and made our way straight home. As we got close Shropshire there was no snow at all, just rain, so rather than go straight home we stopped off at David Austin Roses for lunch which was a nice end to our short break away.

I handed mum her birthday present before we tucked into the delicious breakfast that was on offer. There was a good selection of cold buffet items and an option for a cooked breakfast to order. After we were comfortably replete, we walked to the Yorkshire museum via the museum gardens. The gardens were pleasant with the spring bulbs flowering and there was just as many squirrels as there were on my last visit.

The museum was excellent covering, amongst other displays, the Roman and Mediaeval eras. The special exhibition is Jurassic World with a fine display of dinosaurs. This part of the museum was rather crowded due to to Easter weekend and the exhibition had only recently opened. We had arrived as the museum opened but when we left a huge queue had formed outside so it would be much more crowded very soon.

We then made our way to Fairfax House whilst trying to find a suitable tearoom for lunch. This proved a little difficult as there weren’t many tearooms in that area of York. We found somewhere eventually, although it wasn’t quite what we had in mind.

Fairfax House was once the winter home of Viscount Fairfax and his daughter, Anne. This branch of the Fairfaxes were a prominent Catholic family who owned extensive property and land in the county of York.  The house passed through various owners before coming a gentleman’s club and friendly society and eventually becoming a cinema and dance hall. By 1980 the house stood empty when, due to the historical importance of the building, the York Civic Trust undertook restoration of the house and housed it with the collections that we see today.

As we left Fairfax House and made our way back into town it started to rain so we ducked into Marks and Spencer so that Mr C could buy an umbrella. Upon opening it he nearly cleared the store as it has a rather fierce spring loaded opening mechanism. Suitably equipped for the weather, we went in search of a tearoom. This proved a little difficult because most people had had the same idea and they were all full. Eventually we found one that was almost empty. There were some delicious cakes on display but I decided not to indulge.

After our tea we made our way around the corner to the Treasurer’s House; former home to wealthy industrialist Frank Green. The house displays his collections of antique furniture, ceramics, art and textiles. Sadly, by the time we had finished looking around the house, there was no access to the gardens. I have yet to see the garden; on each occasion I have visited there has been no access to them.

We returned the hotel to freshen up before dinner in Bennett’s Bistro. Once again the food was delicious, I chose Gnocchi with butternut squash and red onion.

Visitors approach the Garden of Reflection along curving paths past the well pools. The planting echoes colours and shapes of the stained glass in the palace chapel.

Within the garden they find themselves beneath the gaze of the Cathedral tower, in a green and sheltering enclosure. Beside the path is a long, curving stone seat.

a place to pause and experience the Garden. Bishop Peter chose a line from Machado’s poem to inscribe on the stone bench because it expresses a spiritual journey ‘towards eternal values of truth, peace, justice and love. How we walk the path determines our destiny, we walk in hope.’

Wanderer, your footsteps are the path, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no path, the path is made by walking, by walking one makes the path and upon glancing back one sees the path that will never be trod again. Wanderer, there is no path – only waves upon the sea.*

At the centre is a rounded, chapel-like ‘poustinia’ open to the sky. This design reflects a religious tradition in Russia, where people seeking solitude to deepen their self-understanding would go into the woods and to small hermitages to reflect.*

*From A guide to the Palace & Gardens