A couple of weeks earlier we’d cycled over to Clifton, because holidays had killed attendance at our own tower, and we fancied a ring anyway. Our arrival immediately doubled the attendance ~ to four! ~ but this still didn’t make a workable band. So it was perhaps as a consolation prize that Stan suggested that we might like to join the Tower Outing on August Bank Holiday Monday.

            Hence we were now driving from Shefford to Langford, to pick up a couple of passengers (I’ll leave it to you to guess who) and proceed to the first tower. The first worry occurred as we passed by Clifton Duckpond ~ one of Saunders’ recovery wagons crossed our path and disappeared up Pedley Lane. Did this mean that Stan’s car wouldn’t start? Would we see our host at all today?

            With our passengers boarded, off we set for Haslingfield. I’m used to having a navigator, but three does get a trifle confusing! We arrived at the first tower to see nothing. Were we really first? At least two of my companions were adamant that the disgustingly orange-yellow Toyota that had passed us on Cambridge Road (there’s a clue) belonged to a well-known ringer, so where was he? Round the Bend, actually. That is, he’d parked a bit further ahead, where we couldn’t see him.

            Others arrived, whilst I explored. Large church, quite cavernous inside, getting a bit moth-eaten outside, (the local moths, we discovered, have tungsten-carbide teeth) with occasional patches of beautiful new stone. A steel ladder to get on the roof. A roof drainpipe with a wooden chute to keep the water off the wall. A magnificent backdrop to the High Altar: a modern representation of the Last Supper, and a glorious stained-glass window above. An unusually high pulpit, with staircase. And, high above the western arch, a little trap-door in the wall so the ringers could look out and monitor the progress of the service. We had to wait for the key ~ it transpired that the contact had thought we were arriving the previous weekend. How many August Bank Holiday Mondays did he think occurred over Saturday and Sunday? Eventually Philippa got to organise Call-Changes, Plain Bob, Cambridge Surprise etc. on the steady 6.

            Next came nearby Barrington, Here Frank took command, and guided us through Grandsire Triples and Cambridge Surprise Major on the ground-floor ring of 8. And doubtless others whilst I explored the forestry work in the churchyard, the delightful collection of home-made kneelers, and the heavily impressive iron-bound parish chest. Other intrepid explorers also pointed out some flaked plasterwork at the head of one of the southern columns, which had revealed some ancient decoration.

 

            Guilden Morden rounded off the morning where the 8 were rung from a low-level elevated floor. I sneaked off to note the private pews, one of which had been modified as a miniature chapel. The decorated panels included one from the late 14th Century, mentioning Erkenwald, Bishop of London in AD675, and Edmund, King of East Anglia who was martyred in AD870. Meanwhile Stan (his car presumably ok!) kept folk occupied whilst I explored the sundial with the extended gnomon and equatorial scale, and the one-handed clock. Since so many of our band had enthusiastically departed for their lunch, we postponed the group photograph until we could all get together again.

           Lunch had been pre-arranged at The Crown in Litlington. Liquid sustenance was enjoyed whilst awaiting the arrival of the solid fuel. The Steak and Kidney Pie was excellent, with proper shortcrust pastry. None of the S&K stew that's so often served nowadays. Good chips with it too. It was noticed that Mark-Aaron got himself a dish of chips with ~ was it cheese? ~ coating. Now if only I'd known beforehand! The pub was intensely decorated with photographs of aircraft and crew from the local wartime air bases. By far the majority were P-51 Mustangs, but we also recognised a P-47 Thunderbolt, a Vickers Wellington (Wimpy), an Avro Lancaster, and an unexpected Troop Glider (Horsa?).

            Lunch however can't last forever, so a quick stroll along the street brought us to Litlington Church. Sheila organised us at this long draught but guided ground-floor 6, Here, to the “common” Call Changes and Cambridge, was added London Surprise for the experts and adventurous. I, of course, was around and about, taking note of the twin organs, the hand-bier, the armchair-pews (I'm sure there must be a proper technical term for these), and the relatively modest parish chest. Also the relative absence of stained-glass in the windows ~ just two, and neither of these was the main East Window. We also managed to take the group photo.

            At Hinxworth we arrived to find that the a picnic base had been set up. The gas burner was going merrily and hot drinks were being gratefully supped. Cake and pie was also in evidence. This was fortuitous because here, as at Haslingfield, the key had not arrived and we had to wait another quarter hour or so. But in we eventually got, and it was Anthony who steered us though various methods. Surprising as it may seem, I did get to ring at every one of the towers, in between explorations. I also got to look around the church, including the staircase up to the old Minstrel Gallery. Totally black, it was, inside, but the camera flash gave me a record of the bricked-off exit at the top, and of an intriguing cement barrier that suggested a possible passage along the chancel wall. Many folk commented on the flowery tribute to Frances Ann Harvey, all-round “Good Egg” by this account!

            And finally to Old Warden. Here I'd been cajoled into looking after the ringing, We rang more Cambridge Plain Bob Doubles etc ...

            Our thanks, expressed formally at this final stop and personally repeated now, go to Mary Topley for organising this. Jolly Good Show, lass. Now, if we could only get you and Philip Rogers to collaborate, we'd have an unsurpassable team. Just think of it!