21 July 2016 - Littleover Farm, Sutton Bonington, near Loughborough

A little research enlightened us about our current home village. Sutton Bonington lies in the River Soar valley and has its own 420 hectare campus of the University of Nottingham, here home to the School of Biosciences and the School of Veterinary Medicine and Science. The population of 2,200 includes about six hundred students. There are apparently two medieval churches here; I can see the spire of one from my position here in the caravan, however have yet to explore either of them further. There are twenty five listed buildings dotted about the village, surely the bane of every British developer. 

This morning, the Park & Ride at Clifton South offered a surprise on arrival; regular trams run from here into the city of Nottingham. However purchasing a ticket provided the first frustration of the day; the card facility was not working, which caused my husband to grumble and moan in a very audible fashion. I whipped out paper tender and soon we boarded the tram, but not until Chris had berated the poor conductor about “systems” and “modern technology”. Poor man; the conductor, that is. He assured us it was not the tram service, but BT (British Telecom); they had just had word on the radio.

The ride was smooth and interesting as we passed through the suburbs to the south of the city, picking up folk at each stop until it was quite full by the time we crossed over the River Trent and cruised into the Birmingham Station. 

St Mary's Church

We walked up through the town, found the Information Centre and gathered a wad of pamphlets together for today and the days immediately ahead of us. The Lace Market begged to be explored so we set off on foot again, even though our day’s tram ticket would have served as well. This proved a little disappointing, the lace industry long gone, and the references to its history scant. 

The city’s oldest church, St Mary’s appeared before us and we entered to look about. Through the gloom we saw the stained glass windows, elaborate ceilings and other features, now also familiar in religious structures. Outside in the graveyard, a couple of homeless bodies lay sprawled on the grass with their worldly belongings; to their credit, no dogs. 

Not far from the church, we found the Nottingham Contemporary, the city’s gallery of modern art. Like most such galleries, it is rare that we find much that suits our conservative taste.

We found a shaded bench in a busy and bustling street where we could observe the activity while eating our lunch. The city was already vibrant with shoppers, buskers and tourists, although less of the latter. While the buildings are a little shabby and the shopping centre in need of renovation, one could not help but be impressed by the vibrancy of the city centre.

After lunch we walked across to the castle precinct, the hill spied from the tram which we had at first thought to be home to an old water tower. 

The Castle

The “castle” is in fact long gone, more recently replaced by a mansion which was subsequently destroyed by fire and vandalism, then even more recently rebuilt as a museum and art gallery for the people of the city. Alas the art gallery fills a small area, most of the civic collection stored away somewhere out of sight, and the museum, while narrating the distant history of the city and the castle itself, does not bring one up to date with the last century. I suspect that is covered by the Museum of Nottingham Life, which is covered by a separate entry fee and accessed from the other side of the “castle” hill. 

However none of that should detract from the story well told within the bowels of the mansion, several times over to embrace the range of ages who may well pass through the doors. It goes without saying that the legend of Robin Hood, his Merry Men, Maid Marion and all the villains of the piece were well represented in those stories, and while the history of the “story” was well documented, there was no suggestion that it was a factual account of some past goodie two-shoes. (Actually the legend is celebrated all through the city and why not, if it draws the tourists?) 

The actual history of the city however is no less fascinating:

The original castle was constructed by William the Conqueror within two years of his arrival on British shores, a timber castle high on the natural outcrop of rock. In the 12^th century, King Henry II upgraded the castle, and in the 13^th century King Henry III rebuilt the outer bailey. With this the castle became one of the greatest in England, equalling the fortifications of that at Dover and Windsor. It was from here that Charles I rode out in 1642 to raise his standard and start the Civil War, however there was little sympathy to be found hereabouts.

The Market Place & Council Building

Despite this, the parliamentarians demolished the castle at the end of the Civil War, and then in 1678 the Duke of Newcastle rebuilt a palace in its place although it was not inhabited and became neglected and fell into a state of decay. 

In 1831 the workers of the city rose up in what became known as the Reform Act Riots and destroyed the property yet again, this time by fire. Insurance paid out for restoration but the owner of the castle was in no hurry to rebuild.  

After a further forty years of inactivity, it was acquired by Nottingham Corporation and eventually the work was carried out. In 1878, the building was opened as a museum and art gallery, becoming the first municipal art museum outside London. This much abbreviated history of the castle more or less reflects the story of the city.

The uninspiring "Castle"

After absorbing all this, we wandered about the exterior of the castle, checking out the excellent views from the terraces; the headquarters of Britain’s Inland Revenue Department, the chimneys of the large refuse incinerators and the massive funnels of the power station at Ratcliffe on Soar, one of the largest coal fired power stations in Europe. To the north of our Park & Ride lay Clifton, built in the 1950s, once the biggest council housing estate in Europe.

The day had warmed up and driven the crowds to the Market Square, some who were making use of the fountain and other water features. We bought ice-cream sundaes and sat in the sun watching the carryings on, including grown men paddling in the water features despite notices forbidding the same,  then headed back to the Station, catching the tram with dozens of school children, timing our trip rather badly. Children en masse are really quite disagreeable.
 

From the Park & Ride, we drove south to Loughborough to shop at Sainsbury, finding our way into the superstore’s car park with great difficulty. The designers have set out to annoy would be shoppers, the access streets much like a maze, but we would not be deterred. The frustrations of the day were adding up.