Woolly says – I was up with the lark for an early start on our journey back to the Midlands, the sun was already out as we said our goodbyes to Nanty Carys and Nuncle Les and headed off through the countryside.
I had planned in a stop off at a place that we had seen the previous year on our journey home, the town looked amazing, and it would be a good way of celebrating Mother’s Day for the oldest one in our party. With Zoe at the wheel, we arrived at the train station parking and having sorted out the parking meter we headed off to see the delights that Bradford- on-Avon had to offer.
Bradford-on-Avon is a town and civil parish in west Wiltshire, near the border with Somerset. The history of the town can be traced back to Roman origins which is always exciting. The centre of the town grew up around the ford across the river Avon, hence the origin of the town’s name (“Broad-Ford”), this was supplemented in Norman times by the stone bridge that still stands today. The river provided power for the wool mills that gave the town its wealth and given the grandeur of the buildings it must have been a very wealthy town.
We headed to the river passing the towns war memorial and taking some time to admire the former mill on the riverbank.
We could see small entrances from the water into the buildings that would have once been the access to the storage areas of the mills.
As we crossed the bridge, we saw two plagues to celebrate local Olympic medallists that live locally.
Just across the river was the Saxon church, simple in design and small in stature. Dedicated to Saint Laurence it is thought to have been founded by Saint Aldhelm around 705 and could have been a temporary burial site for King Edward the Martyr. It was rediscovered by the Anglican priest, antiquarian and author William Jones in 1856, having been used for secular purposes (apparently becoming a house, a school and part of a factory).
Inside was much higher that expected as I craned my neck upwards to see the wooden beamed ceiling when my eye caught sight of the carved figures known as the two flying angels.
An archway led us into a tiny chapel with limited light entering.
Having walked round the exterior and noted the arches high in the walls I turned my attention to the church across the road.
A much larger church, Holy Trinity Church was the original parish church for the town, the Grade I listed building is Norman in origin.
Inside was huge and very modern looking with a wonderful blend of the older parts of the building including some most impressive pillars.
One wall was dedicated to memorial plagues all of which were very grand.
A tiny balcony poked out from a corner and although I asked the gentlemen manning the information desk, he had no idea what it might have been for, it would be perfect for a small mammoth like me and my bestie Sion to watch the church services from.
The alter had a wonderful stained glass window and a burial statue of a former knight.
Heading back outside we admired the clock tower and gardens before heading back to the river.
Wherever we looked there were beautiful buildings to admire.
Crossing the main town bridge which had a small building on it. A grade I listed building; it was originally a packhorse bridge but widened in the 17th century by rebuilding the western side. On 2 July 1643 the town was the site of a skirmish in the English Civil War, when Royalists seized control of the bridge on their way to the Battle of Lansdowne. The small building was originally a chapel but was later used as a town lock-up.
We passed an area known as the shambles as we headed towards our eatery which Zoe and I had carefully booked as a treat for Jo on Mother’s Day, arriving at the doorway to find a note pinned to it saying they were closed until further notice, my stomach was not impressed with this outcome and Zoe was none to pleased as our plans to celebrate crumbled. My human barely missed a beat suggesting that we check out the church opposite and then find somewhere else to eat.
It might not be the plan that Zoe and Woolly had wanted but as we couldn’t do anything we might as well make the most of it.
Woolly says – We crossed the road and entered the Catholic church, dedicated to St. Thomas More which occupies a Grade II listed building, dating from 1854, that used to be the town hall. It was a bit of a strange set up as we climbed up the winding steps and walked along a carpeted corridor it didn’t really give any church vibes.
Entering the actual church area, we found a modern looking place of worship with a vividly green roof and brick walls. It didn’t take long to admire before heading back downstairs and towards a block of small shops where we were lucky enough to find an Indian restaurant ready to welcome us and feed us substantially.
With bellies full to bursting and doggy bags for later we set off to find the towns barn.
The Barton Farm Tithe Barn is a notable feature of Bradford-on-Avon, a large Grade I listed tithe barn, 180 feet long and 30 feet wide, which was constructed in the 14th century and is now part of Barton Farm Country Park. The barn was used for collecting taxes, in the form of goods, to fund the church. We wandered past families picnicking by the riverside until we arrived at the large undercover space.
With two large archways to access it we wandered in to admire the wonderful wooden ceiling that had stood for so many years. The amount of space for storage was massive leading me to think that the church would have been very wealthy if the barn was full.
We passed the farmhouse and paused to check out some of the craft shops before heading back to the car to complete our journey back. Was it worth waiting a year to see Bradford on Avon, absolutely, a small version of the famous city of Bath it might be, but it was every bit as lovely.