Today's jaunt was a trip into the wilds of Herefordshire, specifically to Leominster (pronounced "Lemster"), Kimbolton and Bromyard, to get some family vibes for Dear Wife, for that is where her family hails from.
It's an interesting story, too, from agricultural workers in Herefordshire, to tradespeople in Birmingham, to Royal Navy in Plymouth. It's a path trodden by many others, but so much more pertinent when it's your own family.
We had to make a stop en route first, and that was at a Gregg's Bakery in North Worcester. I chose North Worcester because it was sort of on the way, it was a full shop and not a cabinet in a petrol station, and there was free parking right in front. It was well worth the trip, too, because they had everything we wanted, despite the place being very busy with workers from the nearby Business Park.
Once back on the road we made our way through the lush Worcestershire and Herefordshire countryside to Leominster. I'd looked at the area extensively using Google Maps, but that is only two dimensional and doesn't even hint at the relief of the land. Goodness that land has some relief. It's not tall mountains, although those were visible to the south (The Brecon Beacons in Wales), but it was gorgeous little hills and dales, carved in the soft red soil by water from the Welsh hills.
Leominster is a small market town north of Hereford, and it's seen better days. In the little town centre there were a lot of vacant shops, and there was an air of decay about the place. That said, the many half-timbered buildings were still standing tall, even if they looked a little past their best. I should make the point here that the short-term car park only cost £2.40 for two hours, and it wasn't a mobile app only pay system, either, as the machine had a bank card reader. South Devon councils please take note.
We searched out the addresses of a few of DW's ancestors, thought about the people, and thought about the buildings and what's left them given that the records we've been looking at go back 200 years. Etnam Street looked to have been a grand thoroughfare once, and as it led to the station, it probably was. School Lane was one of the narrow streets leading to Corn Square, as was Corn Street, and all those places were homes and businesses for DW's family in the nineteenth century. It's quite cool to think that you're walking the same streets as your ancestors.
After a bite to eat and a drink at the Flying Dutchman Cafe, we made our way out to the village of Kimbolton, about two miles north of Leominster. We debated about the pronunciation of Kimbolton; was it Kim-Bolton, like the one in Cambridgeshire, or Kimble-ton? We may never know.
In Kimbolton, St James' Church stands on a hill above the village, and very nice it looked, too. The road to get there was a Devon-style lane, but it was good to know that DW's ancestors had made their way up that hill to the church to get married. The church is made of local stone, and has a square tower topped with a wooden spire. It looks very old, and indeed parts of it are, but the church was extensively remodelled in 1875, and the interior shows it. The large graveyard that surrounds the the church is filled with sandstone headstones, pretty much all of which have been worn smooth over time and give no clue as to who is buried there. There were plenty of modern graves there, as well, and there was one grave dug and ready for use (covered, of course); it's unusual to see old graveyards still very much in use.
We stood inside the church for a while and tried to imagine the wedding of Dear Wife's ancestors that had taken place there so long ago. The family, established themselves in Leominster, but parts of it moved west to the little town of Bromyard, twelve miles to the west of Leominster, and from there moved onto Aston, which is now part of the wider Birmingham conurbation. This was a path followed by so many people, moving from the land to the factories of the growing industrial cities. Life in Britain's industrial centres was terrible in the nineteenth century, but it may have been worse in the country, if work was scarce.
From Kimbolton, we drove to Bromyard, which is a lovely little market town nestled in the red hills of Herefordshire. Dear Wife's family are recorded as being resident there in the late 1800s, and we drove past houses that were listed in the Census records. We also drove past places where houses were no more, which is a common theme in both our family trees' research. There is a house in Bromyard that bears DW's surname, but we haven't tied it to any of her immediate relatives yet.
Finally we set a course for home, and motored across the River Severn in Worcester, and across the Cotswolds back to Shipton. I have been moaning constantly about the number of Range Rovers and Land Rovers on the roads in the Cotswolds. My general assumption is that they're driven by wealthy "Townies", who think they need a big, rugged car to negotiate the country roads of the Cotswolds. The reality is, of course, that the roads of the Cotswolds are no different to the roads anywhere else, except for being a bit narrower at times, when a big Range or Land Rover is a positive disadvantage. The Range and Land Rovers are, in reality, status symbols. They are so common in these parts, and are usually driven my numpties. I found this out when not one, but two, Range Rovers pulled out of side roads on the run home, forcing me to jam on the brakes. My driver training at least allows me to anticipate these things better than many, but it's still an irritation when people drive like that, and it's dangerous, too. As I said, numpties.
Our next expedition will be on public transport, so maybe some time away from the Range Rovers will be beneficial.
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