Woolly says – The weather had been awful, day after day of teeming rain with hardly a let up, with Jo slaving away at her job I carefully considered our next blogging day wanting a change from castles and ruins and knowing that something inside would probably be more appropriate. We set off with a sky full of greyness and all I could do was to keep my paws crossed that the forecasted downpours would wait until a little later. It was a slow drive along windy roads stuck behind a horse carrier which couldn’t seem to go faster than a snail, I sighed and tried not to dwell on the rapidly increasing clouds above.
We finally arrived in the small town of Llandrindod Wells known colloquially as Llandod, or Dod, which had developed as a spa town in the 19th century, with a boom in the late 20th century as a centre of local government. The one way system was a nightmare as we went round and round in circles, passing Aldi for the seventh time Jo ignored the sat nav instructions and turned left instead of the usual right that we had been doing and our first destination was suddenly there.
Being a kind and considerate mammoth, I had included Alfie the Dogs needs in the day so had decided that a rather interesting sculpture in a lake would make a good starting point. Llandrindod Lake was originally built as a boating lake towards the end of the last century allowing the Victorians some further activities with its growing tourist industry. On first site it didn’t live up to my expectations but the mutt seemed happy enough as we started our walk round.
The lake houses a sculpture of a water serpent and leaping carp, the scales of which are made of thousands of copper plates initialled by local people and visitors during construction of the work, the pictures I had seen had been impressive, sadly the reality was lacking and rather than a water serpent it looked as though a piece of arched fencing had been left in the water.
As we passed the children canoeing and paddle boarding, we came to a sign that told us that we had reached the south view of the lake and providing information on the wildlife we could see, Jo and I started to laugh as the only view that the vantage point gave us was of a hedge with the lake hiding on its other side.
It didn’t take long to walk the perimeter and before Alfie the Dog had a chance to even pant, we arrived back at our starting point, Jo looked down at me and smiled, ‘are you hungry?’ she asked, well when have I ever said no to an offer of food. Within ten minutes we were sat consuming a breakfast big enough for all three of us watching the swans and geese cruising across the waters.
Having go the worst of the tomato ketchup off the mammoths’ paws, tusks and trunk I followed my small friend towards the town.
Woolly says – The National Cycle Museum was established in 1981 in premises on the estate of Belton House, near Grantham. After the National Trust were gifted the house, the museum was without premises until a new location at Lincoln was offered. Mr James Maynard, Edward Skeet and Anthony Pickering took on the running of the museum after the originator and curator, Raymond Fixter died. After a highly successful number of years in Lincoln, the City of Lincoln council ceased sponsorship and new premises were sought. In 1997 the Welsh Tourist board saw the opportunity of combining three collections (Tom Norton, David Higman and the National Cycle Museum) and offered premises in Llandrindod Wells. As we arrived at the entrance my delight was exceeded at the lovely rickshaw parked on the pavement, taking me back to India and parts of Asia where it had been my normal method of transport.
We passed through the ticket office and into the collection of around 250 bicycles dating from 1818 to 2018. It was hard to know where to look first as there were so many displayed together, the penny farthings being larger stood out from the crowd but I almost missed the Hobby Horse which looked incredibly uncomfortable in design.
A wooden bone shaker caught my eye but the information given was written in the smallest of typefaces making it difficult to read.
As we passed through the Victorian era of cycling and displays of bike lamps was most impressed with the quality and quantity of items, sadly it remained tricky to tell one from another.
A rather quaint side car for cycling took my interest and I could happily see Jo peddling along with Alfie the Dog and I attached to the side in our own carriage.
As the bikes become more modern, they certainly looked far more comfortable to ride and brighter in colours.
As my carer stopped at a red bike with yellow lettering, she grinned over at me….
‘I used to have a Chopper, went over the handlebars a few times as well’
…. Who knew that Jo was old enough to be in a museum, maybe she should stay offering her knowledge of Chopper bikes to the public?
Passing the postman’s bike and finding that the ice cream seller had run out I gazed at the bikes that had transported racers and Olympians in their time wondering how many miles they had done before being retired to the museum.
Rounding the final corner, I took in the last displays with cycles fitted into every inch possible as we headed outside and into the rain.
It looked as though my last part of the day wasn’t an option as we ran towards the car avoiding as much of the deluge as possible, I had thought that a walk around the town’s buildings would be of interest but in this I would be lucky to see anything.
As we set off for the journey back, I contemplated the week ahead as we receive visitors for the first time (Zoe is not classed as visitor) since March of 2020 and the much loved places I was going to be taking them to.