Day 29: Droitwich Spa to Tewkesberry

October 5, 2022

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I got parked outside the Waitrose grocery store just before we left Droitwich Spa, and that allowed us to find out just why it is called Spa, and lots more, from signboards installed just where I was waiting.

It turns out the town is situated on massive deposits of salt, and salt has been extracted there since ancient times. The natural Droitwich brine contains a concentration of salt ten times stronger than sea water and rivaled only by the Dead Sea. It came naturally to the surface, but in the 19th century it began to be pumped up, boiled, and turned into salt crystals. Coarse crystals were used for salting fish, and were exported to Ireland, while there was also finer table salt.

Pumping the brine used steam engines, so this became a typical Industrial Revolution smokestack industry. Boining the brine was also apparently a nasty and low paid job. In the mid-19th century, the brine also became the foundation of a spa health soak industry, so that's where the spa part of the town name comes from.

What eventually happened was that so much brine was extracted that High street started to subside. The costs of compensation overwhelmed the revenues, and the whole thing then shut down, in 1920.

Where I was standing was just by a former smokestack, and there were also some preserved parts of the pumping equipment. We didn't see any indication that one could still go somewhere for soak.

Part of pumping equipment used in the salt works.

I absorbed all the salt information before Dodie could buy out the Waitrose, so looking around there were these higgledy piggledy buildings to appreciate:

And in one of the used goods/charity stores across the way, this unique book. Somewhere out there there has to be at least one person (other than the author) who understands what all these needlecraft things are about!

Quite quickly, really, we were ready to leave town. Here are out last glances before taking to the road:

An amazing thing about today's ride was that almost the entire thing was on real bike path, pleasant path or lane, or quiet road. We ran into no barricades, almost no pedestrian crossings, almost no need to keep to the sidewalk, no bridle path, meadows, or any of that nonsense. It was so great!

We did run in to some fun animals and plants. There was a herd of all very similar brown horses that we went over to talk to. They were all very sweet and gentle. We took some carrots from our pack to offer them, but surprisingly they were not interested. Maybe they only eat grain with molasses for treats?

The magpie is common here, but unknown where we come from. I often try to photograph them here, but they almost always move before I have focused. But here is sort of a shot of one of them.

Fuschia is a flower that is common for us back home. But there it is always a hanging basket item, bought annually from the nursery. Today I spotted a couple of bushes, growing semi-wild. I think the popularity of fuschia back home must come from the nostalgia of British immigrants.

After about 5 km we found ourselves on the canal heading for Worcester, and we stayed on that all the way into the city. The tow path was wide and the whole experience was much fun.

The man in blue operated the lock while his wife drove the boat through. Once it was through, the man's next chore was to trot down to the nearby next lock and get it ready for the boat. This brought him past us, who had stopped to admire the boat and the lock process. A short chat naturally ensued. That is until the man's wife shouted "Hurry Up"! She would not be the first wife to be frustrated with her man stopping to chat when there was business to attend to!

Another fellow we chatted with was this apparent cyclist. In fact he was a volunteer who ranged up and down the path collecting bits of garbage. We liked his casual approach. I asked if he set hmself a quota for bags of garbage collected, but no, he was just making one pass and getting what he got. Further he only did this on Wednesday mornings, and was mostly looking forward to going home for a coffee. Notice that he is wearing the life preserver that is seen on all canal staff. He was aware, as were we, of the chance of landing in the drink.

Dodie knew there was a major cathedral in Worcester, from Brother Cadfael, I suspect (anyway she mentioned that people from Gloucester who had rebelled against King Stephen came and trashed the Cathedral and the town in 1139. Brother Cadfael tended to some of the refugees.)

The canal took us right into town, allowing us to easily search for and locate the cathedral, which is by the river Severn. We came upon the building from the back, which was fortunate for a photo since the front was covered in scaffolding.

Edgar Tower at the back entrance to the cathedral

Clearly there was damage in history - for example at the civil war (1642-1651).

This cathedral was one of those really huge ones, with so many different interior spaces and long views. The guide pamphlet is conservative in listing just 26 bits to look at. We of course are always in a hurry, but there were clearly two can't miss things. The first was the tomb of King John, the one that signed the Magna Carta, and the other was Prince Arthur. Arthur was the eldest son of Henry VII, and he married Catherine of Aragon in 1501. But Arthur died six months later. His father then arranged for Catherine to marry Arthur's younger brother, Henry, who later (1509) became Henry VIII. And the rest, as they say...

One most of one wall there is a huge set of stained glass windows.

Prince Arthur's chantry. In my ignorance I guessed that they did not really have a tomb, and were settling for this box, which was a "chantry"? I went back to the front and asked a docent what a chantry was. She directed me to someone more "expert", but I found I could not get a straight answer.

Look at the wear in the stone at the entrance to Arthur's spot. In Cycleblaze terms, it took a lot of "likes" to wear that stone away,

The general flooring of the Cathedral is very attractive.

Ancient churches seem to have lots of these effigies. One point of interest in them is how they are dressed. Another is how generally short they are.

When I returned to the entrance I found Dodie engaged in conversation with the priest. This seems to happen with us a lot. Maybe they are attracted to the colour yellow? I took the opportunity to learn about "chantry". It's a room where your tomb can get put, and then by fame (or maybe an endowment) you get a priest to pray (chant) for you every day for eternity. (p.s. in 1545 Henry VIII grabbed control of all chantries and their endowments. )

There was a super riverside promenade to usher us out of town. It also gave us a shot of the large number of swans you must be able to attract with some food.

Our glorious eit from town became a little less exuberant when the rain that had been spitting on and off became a genuine downpour. We hid under a tree and chanced this one shot of it.

The next phase of the ride, when the rain passed, was just so swell. We have great road or path almost all the way, and we were just cruising along enjoying the sights.

One of the first sights was this wool bombing of a mail box. We had seen this near London, where one had a Queen Elizabeth theme. We thought it was one of a kind, but clearly this is a "thing".

Here is a small country mansion. Nicely landscaped.

Look at the chimneys on that mansion. The place had perhaps a dozen flues. Strange. Big bills for chimney sweeping!

Look, this is a real bike path. What were the English thinking?

Lots of our route looked so nice, like this.

It was so quiet even pheasants were using the road.

The countryside was more open than we have seen in past days. Roadside hedges are trimmed way down, and you can see the land.

We rolled in to Tewkesbury at one end of the high street, after coming off the dangerous, no shoulder, Mythe Road. After all the great cyclable path we had experienced on the day, it was surprising that at Tewkesbury there not only was no provision for bikes, but even pedestrians risked getting chewed up in uncontrolled roundabouts or street crossings.

We walked our bikes on the sidewalk down to our hotel, the Royal Hop Pole. We were hoping to find a grocery, but had no luck. It was just lots of those independent knick knack type shops.

Strange narrow passages between buildings could be seen at quite a few spots along High Street

There were a fair number of very old buildings like this.

Our Hotel - the Royal Hop Pole. A hop pole, of course, is a pole for growing hop up. I guess even royals need them. The Hotel is comprised of buildings from the 15th and 16th centuries. The Hop Pole is a recent name, stemming from 1799. Before that it had names like the Eight Bells.

Inside the Hop Pole it is very atmospehric.

As usual we had asked for a secure indoor place for the bikes. The best they could do was a large room, but it was up a steep staircase. No problem, we took off the bags and a staffer helped carry the bikes up. The room is so large that the bikes have half to themselves.

We spent some time tonight looking at what parts of our former itinerary we would be willing to skip, and what spots we want to make sure we do go to. As we spun along today, we were enjoying England and reminding ourselves to make sure to absorb all we are seeing, and to not be so eager to just get to the next stopping place. Even so, we do not want to miss our date for when Europe will welcome us back, by being stuck somewhere in the wilds of the English south coast. We are thinking that even though there is a rail trail from Bristol to Bath, we could cycle to Gloucester tomorrow, and from there skip by train directly to Bath. Bath will be our gateway to the Salisbury Plain and Stonehenge!

Today's ride: 56 km (35 miles)
Total: 1,076 km (668 miles)

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