Photos:
1200 This 50@fifty excursion comes on the back of a weekend canoeing trip with a few friends on the River Wye, so my post starts at Symonds Yat on the Herefordshire/Gloucestershire border. I sure picked a tricky starting point to cycle from because there is a really steep hill out of Symonds Yat on the way to Forest. After a few pauses to catch my breath and take Shank’s Pony up the most precipitous bits, it eventually levels out as I reach the edge of the Forest of Dean.
My destination is Lydney station to catch a train to a B and B at Great Malvern, but on the way I want to notch up a visit to a sculpture trail in the Forest. I can’t remember how I knew about this but it has intrigued me for a while hence why it is on my list.
1430 After a few consultations of the map I find it at a sort of Country Park. There are crowds of people at the nearby lodge/visitor centre/children’s playground and I have to pick my way carefully between pushchairs and infants running across my path. I purchase a guide to the trail as I have no idea what I am looking for and set off. It appears that there are about twenty sculptures along the way and they all have a connection – more or less – with the woodland heritage of the area.
Meandering along the trail, I take photos of the best sculptures, which I include at the link above. I quite liked it - it is an intriguing idea though some of the installations look a little tired, which I suppose is understandable being in a public and outdoor space. I’m glad I have gone and would’ve liked to explore the Forest further, but time does not permit and I soon have to turn towards Lydney. Happily the gradient is in my favour this time and I fairly zoom along old railway routes and minor roads.
1720 Made Lyney in pleanty of time and now on my way to Malvern. Can you believe it, I have a three hour wait in Gloucester for my connection so I do a bit of exploring and naturally gravitate towards the cathedral which from the outside seems a bit disjointed and cobbled together. I suppose I have got used to the beautiful Gothic integrity of Salisbury’s exterior. The cathedral is closed on this Sunday evening (work that one out) but I stumble upon an open air ‘Songs of Praise’ service led by the city brass band, so join in. I don’t know what my suited-and-booted-Sunday-best fellow worshippers thought of this somewhat sweaty and muddy lycra-encapsulated middle-aged man in their midst, but no one spoke to me over the cup of tea afterwards except another chap who also happened to be passing through. Funnily enough, he was born in Lincolnshire and grew up in Cornwall and now lives in Wales.
2000 Consumed a dodgy takeaway pie and chips. I knew it was dodgy because I bought it from 'Best Takeaway'....hmmm.
2030 Am finally on the way out of Gloucester heading for Malvern. Gloucester Station is not designed for bikes, with a high footbridge and no lifts. The platforms also aren't where you expect them to be and I ended up heaving my bike over this blessed bridge twice!
2045: Phone ahead to say I was going to be late. The carriage is deserted and through the train window to the West the setting sun casts a peachy, crepuscular light through the clouds over the solid grey silhouette of the Malverns – tomorrow’s endeavour.
2200 My B and B is great, the opposite of contemporary!: it is in a large Edwardian town house with china ducks and cats round the bath tub; nick-nacks, valences and white crocheted seat covers; geraniums in tubs on the patio; a floral patterned stair carpet; a small black and white terrier called Stanley and signs of grandchildren having come to stay. My landlady is a typical old-style hostess widowed and doing it for the company rather than the money.
Through my bedroom window I can look over the town of Great Malvern, set hard against the base of the hills bearing the same name – to climb them tomorrow, with a fully laden bike, will be a challenge.
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