Week two begins.  After some very achy legs last week, a couple of days off have given them chance to recover and I’ve posted the first two installments of the blog.  So far, no-one has flamed me.  This may well change if anyone ever reads it.

I am now a seasoned traveler, so elegantly clad as before in T-shirt and shorts I stride off towards the train station.  As I head towards the station I feel somewhat smug as I look at the schoolchildren and commuters as I am still on holiday while they are back to their humdrum lives.  This enables me to ignore the fact that the weather has returned to its previous cloudy and breezy self and by the time I have arrived at Slough train station I am feeling decidedly chilled.  At which point the seasoned traveler realises he has left behind both his trusty baseball cap and his cheap Primark top.

With a sigh the seasoned traveler heads for the platform.  Slough station is becoming like an old friend.  To be more accurate, Slough station is like that slightly strange uncle who gets invited to family events and sits in a corner muttering to himself and worrying the aspidistra.  My journey today is simple – a through train to Evesham.  What could possibly go wrong?

Much to the disappointment of anyone reading this, nothing.  Except for the weather.  Rather than brightening up, by the time I reach Evesham the wind has picked up and it’s decidedly chilly.  It’s not raining yet, but the clouds banking up above me make it extremely likely.  Deciding to ignore them, I shoulder my backpack and head into the centre of town.

My initial impressions are quite positive.  The houses are made of a red brick that is quite attractive.  I’ve been to Evesham briefly when on a canal boat holiday and I know that the main part of the town is sited within a long bend of the river.  Ignoring the flecks of rain that are starting to fall, I head on.  As I do, it becomes clear that Evesham’s architecture is quite eclectic.  Tudor (or mock Tudor) buildings sit beside modern constructions and the more traditional red brick buildings.  In some towns this is done in such a way that seem to work.  Unfortunately, in Evesham it looks like a bit of a shambles.  The town has a huge amount of history — so much that it doesn’t seem to know what it is.

This isn’t helped by the weather which is making me decidedly uncomfortable.  I need to get some kind of jacket and the strange stares I am getting from the Evesham locals are making me even more uncomfortable.  Clearly they have never seen knees before.  Judging by the way they are all walking around in sensible clothing, with thick jackets and sensible hats they clearly only reveal their knees (and possibly their elbows) in the privacy of their own homes and probably after warning their spouses lest they be shocked.  It doesn’t help that the majority of the population appears to be geriatric.

I decide that I need to get myself a jacket – and it does occur to me that maybe I too need to go for something more sensible.  Maybe 53 is the age at which T-shirt and shorts is no longer sensible.  I head for the Riverside Shopping Centre (which I should point out is about 100 yards from the river.  This daring interpretation of the word ‘side’ turns out to be the most interesting thing about it.)  As I try to get into the building I have to leap to one side to avoid the mobility scooter that races out through the door.  This is followed by two more and as I watch open-mouthed as they drive off, scarves and hair-nets flapping in the breeze I wonder if this is some kind of Evesham Rally or whether this is a geriatric team of shoplifters making good their escape.

Nervously peering through the door of the Riverside and seeing that the way is clear (for the moment), I head inside.  And find myself transported back several decades.  I am a good twenty years younger than everyone else in the shopping (including the somewhat shaky woman cleaning the toilets) and the whole place has an air of desuetude.  The feeling of being transported back in time is helped by the music.  Constant Craving by KD Lang is a mere 25 years old but is recent compared to what follows it:  Money, Money, Money by ABBA.  I then wonder if they might be part of a subtle program of suggestion designed to get the customers to buy more.  I dismiss this and head off to find an age-appropriate jacket.  Ten minutes later I leave Sports Direct with a sleeveless hoodie – clearly suitable for the 53 year old man.

Putting the hoodie on and immediately feeling better, I head out the back of the Riverside and find myself at the edge of a small park which at one end has the ruins of Evesham Abbey.

The tower is pretty much the only part of the Abbey that has survived and the other side of it are the 2 Evesham parish churches which have been built right beside each other.  I wonder if there was any rivalry between the two congregations – if there was, they had no way to avoid each other.  By now, the wind has risen and the rain is starting to come down in light showers so I head into the alleys behind the church.

I walk around randomly and find myself at a little museum in the old Almonry that was attached to the Abbey.

The museum is quite small, and for someone of my height has many excitingly low beams and ceilings which, added to the irregular flooring, make exploring a hazardous enterprise.  That, unfortunately, is the most interesting thing about the Almonry.  They have collected a lot of items from the old Abbey, but rather than sticking to one period they have included everything they could find.  As a result a corridor containing artifacts from the old Evesham jail shares room with a display of historical veterinary tools.  Upstairs a recreation of an old schoolroom (I wouldn’t care to hazard the period) is off a room with a diorama of the battle of Evesham (1265).  The next room contains materials brought back from people who fought in the second world war.

There is nothing essentially wrong with the Almonry.  It just doesn’t come together as a cohesive whole.  But they do sell bookmarks, so at least one objective is achieved.  As I leave the Almonry, the rain that has been teasing me with showers has decided to throw all subtlety aside and is pissing down.  I am tempted to go and get something warm to eat and drink (the cafe called The Valkyrie tempts me as I want to know how it got the name).  However, I’ve come a long way for a rather disappointing cup of coffee so I decide to laugh in the face of the weather and continue to explore.  One thing mentioned in the Almonry several times is the Hampton Ferry.  I haven’t caught even a glimpse of the river yet, so I head down the road towards it ignoring the rain.

The Hampton Ferry is operated by a complicated engineering system knows as “a man pulling on a rope”.  As I approach a woman is huddling in the Ferry and I see the Ferryman about to wait for me as clearly no-one would come down this long lane without wanting to cross.  With a wave, I confirm with Charon that I do not want his services and then enjoy watching them struggling across in the rain.

I spot a sign for a walk along the river and as the pathway goes under a convenient avenue of trees, I decide to take this longer walk back.  I then find out that the people of Evesham are proud of the strangest things.

If nothing else, the Award Winning Toilets are going to be something to see.  The walk along the river is really pleasant.  I only pass a handful of people (including one girl who is clearly playing hookie from school).  The rain stops and the air has that marvellous smell of wet grass.  That combined with the sounds of the river and the sights of swans floating serenely around makes the walk very pleasant.  Evesham has actually got quite a lot going for it – some interesting architecture, decent history and a nice riverside.  All they have to do is make sure they don’t screw it up by making sure that anyone building here makes sure that they fit in to the overall look.

Oh dear.

As I head around the riverside walk (which is far better defined than the shopping centre is) it becomes clear that someone in Evesham has a sense of humour:

I never actually check out the Award Winning Toilets but I do pass this place:

Somewhere I have clearly missed the less inclusive play areas and I have to wonder on what grounds children are barred from playing.

I also note that the local constabulary are, like many areas, fighting a battle against rural crime.  As usual, they are running an operation and the one around Evesham is focusing on fishing.  Also as usual, the police have named the operation with suitability and care.

Just how big are these fish?

I head back into Evesham and have a very nice lunch and a pint of Razorback at the Royal Oak.  I had planned to do some more walking around the area, but the weather is just not good enough so I head back to the station.  As I walk up to the closed ticket office, I reflect that you know you’re in the sticks when the station closes for lunch.  Despite that, I’m soon on the train and heading back to Slough with East of Eden by John Steinbeck.