VENIMUS, VIDIMUS, EQUITANDO
After fighting through the awful rush hour traffic to pick up Stuart and Andy late, Tony yomped down the M4 to the arranged meeting point in the beautiful car park at Sherfield Loddon arriving on time but sadly – other riders there were none!
Nothing daunted the intrepid three headed north circling Stratford Saye Park with glimpses of the Duke’s house and cocked hat logo to the farm shop for a coffee amongst exotic foods and yummy mummies. Here Stuart purchased a large pork pie for later use – delicious but heavy!
Through leafy country lanes, passing thatched cottages and farms, we ignored the occasional shower. The old roman road aptly named the Devil’s Highway was devilishly indeed with deep puddles and overgrown branches, suddenly the ancient walls of Calleva Atrebatum loomed out of the mist – fantastic sight – a distant dog dogwalker topped the stonework appearing like a legionnaire of old – “Salve” we shouted. On to explore the Amphitheatre and imagine the cries of the performers and crowd, then along The Drove through the centre of where the town would have lain – a short pause to view the ongoing excavations work and the loss of the stolen brass plaques – dastards!
Down numerous lanes to Aldermaston Wharf, where, as we hit the Kennet tow path, the rain started in earnest. Spurred on by Tony’s promise that the pub was close at hand we rode hard through wet bushes, pausing only while Andy regained his bike after examining the ground closely. The Rowbarge at Woolhampton was everything the leader had promised : a range of 6 real ales and ciders, a huge menu and hearty serving wenches; we dried out in the warm and ate and drank well. A nearby birthday party offered us a welcome slice of their cake.
Occasional rays of sunshine lit the afternoon ride through the beautiful Hampshire countryside – Tony’s excellent route ensured that the short uphill climbs were more than compensated by long swooping down hill runs. We skirted the villages of Brimpton, Tadley, Baughurst, Charter Alley, Sherbourne St John, their very names matching their rural setting – despite continual demands for more building space – much of old England remains for those who are prepared to leave the main roads and seek it out.
Another farm shop setting for tea, where Andy, having taken some time to weigh up all the crockery available, picked up the tea pot and solemnly poured it into the full milk jug! Could this be some strange Scottish rite similar to the ancient Chinese tea ceremony we pondered ….. no just a mistake! The shop next door was an Aladdin’s cave of dolls and doll house fittings – overwhealming. Quite a long ride back through five Bramley village signs – would it never end? And then the welcome car park and car run home.
A brilliant ride of ancient Roman discovery and quintessential English countryside.
Narration by Stuart