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A 1930's Whitsun Weekend
On Friday evening, Frank Bland and I set out on the tandem. With me
on the front, Frank on the rear and behind him, strapped to the
carrier, was a small ridge tent with sleeping bags and provisions for
supper and breakfast. We also had a small Primus stove, billy can and
of course our cameras. We made our way along the quiet
Huntingdon Road, now the dreadful A14. After Huntingdon we joined the
Old North Road and the Great North Road, now the A1 and A1(M).
It was a pleasant
evening with only an occasional car to be seen.
Near Norman Cross we turned into a narrow lane and set up camp in a
small meadow.We would normally seek permission to do so but it was
very late and there was not a house in sight. In the morning we
washed in dew,scooped up by the handful from the grass. The water in
our bottles was needed for making tea. We packed up and headed for
the Lincolnshire Fens. Frank entertained the locals in one small
village when he cleaned his teeth in their water-splash We carried on
along a dead straight road, high on the bank alongside one of the
fenland drains, twiddling the top gear of 104" like mad.
It was about lunch time. Frank went into the village shop in search
of food and then stuck his head around the door, saying "Can you
eat a haystack?".
"I feel so hungry I could eat anything" I replied. He
emerged with the "Haystack" the size and shape of a large
loaf. It was a local speciality, a concoction of minced meat and
herbs, baked in a bread tin. Very substantial and just what we
needed.
I forget exactly where we went, but I think it was near Woodhall Spa
where we came across an isolated farm and obtained permission to camp
there a couple of nights. On the Sunday morning we discovered that
the rear brake had been rubbing on the tyre which looked as it would
burst any moment, so we made our way to Louth with its famous
crocketed church spire and found a cycle shop. Of course it was
closed.
We were told that the owner lived a mile or so away and were given
directions to his house. He was a very pleasant chap and was only too
pleased to cycle with us to his shop and provide us with a new tyre.
One reason for our visit to this part of the country was to
photograph windmills which abound in this area. During the weekend we
photographed mills with two, four, five, six and eight sails. Many of
them were working. While we were taking a photograph of one of the
five sail mills, the miller came over and offered to stop the mill
for us. We thanked him and told him it wasn't necessary. |
Sunday lunch time. All
shops were closed. Frank knocked on the back
door of the village bakery and returned empty handed, saying "I
knew I was unlucky when the parson opened the door". Eventually
we came to a pub. And asked for shandies and packets of biscuits.
(Biscuits at two pence a packet before the advent of Smiths potato
crisps). The landlady must have thought we looked hungry and said "We
will be closing in a few minutes, you can join us for lunch if you
wish". It was an offer we could not refuse. We sat down with the
family and enjoyed a meal of roast lamb, Yorkshire pudding and an
assortment of vegetables followed by a fruit pie. It cost us two
shillings each.
Whit-Monday morning. It was time to pack-up and head for home. We
asked the farmer how much we owed him. "Its alright, just give
the boys a tanner each". There were three youngsters playing in
the yard. As we handed out the pieces of silver he said "No not
him, he's not mine". Needless to say they were all treated
alike.
It was about 5pm when we reached Heckington and as we photographed
the massive eight sailed mill, the miller approached and invited us
to have a look over the mill. He spent the next hour showing us
around, explaining how everything worked. (Some time after this the
mill was severely damaged by lightning but was restored to its former
glory). In fact I think it happened again and was restored once more. (When I saw it a few years ago it looked in perfect condition.
Ed).
Heckington Mill (2004)
By the time we reached the Six Bells at Bourne, a Club tea place, it
was 7pm. We managed to have a late tea (or was it supper?).
Afterwards, we wasted no time and arrived back in Cambridge at
10.30pm having covered 57 miles since tea.
The end.
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