On a sunny afternoon, boys will be boys

We ventured into town today, and after I had been to the library, we went to the Shambles to enjoy the bustle of its market on a warm bright summery day. While Helena met a poet friend at his occasional stall, I bought a rare head of radicchio, which I love, from the organic veg. stall and then snapped up some bargain French goats cheese from Ken the Cheese. He has a regular pitch on Fridays and Saturdays here, and seems to always find a supply from a Parisian supplier of various first rate regional fare.

We then went about a hundred yards to the Farmers' market which was also very bright, colourful and busy. I generally find that the very good offerings from local suppliers of meat, cheese, apple juice, vegetables and puddings are all too expensive for us. The market is reckoned to be one of the best in the country, long established and thriving. As I stood back and watched the flow of buyers, I was again reminded of how like a 'proper' local french market this one has become. I even heard a Dad talking to one of his children in French, as a North American accent from an elderly couple showed that it has reached the tourist agenda as well.

A short while later we reached Stratford Park, just outside the centre of town, where the Festival of Nature was being held, close to the Museum, which is housed in the old mansion of the original Stratford estate. It wasn't as busy as I thought and hoped, but was enjoyable to ramble around. We also wandered up the the lido which was surprisingly still open with a just a couple of swimmers braving the outside waters. We tried to photograph the very deco styled diving boards but couldn't get a good view from behind the barriers. Perhaps another day for that one.

Back at the Festival, Helena found out about a guided tour to discover local native moths in the Park, to be held next week, which we may go on. I have become very interested in moths since living here, as we get so many arriving at and through our windows in the evenings, coming straight from the fields and woodland behind the house.

Our final destination was Helena's choice although in the end It is me who is blipping it. She has been wandering and exploring around this area recently, since starting her new job close by at lunchtimes. She heard that the local miniature railway enthusiasts would be showing off their steam engines at the purpose-built track behind the old mill pond at the bottom of the valley in Stratford Park. It threads through woodlands, and its own tunnel in a large circle and people can ride behind the tiny engine for a small fee.

There were quite a few children taking up the offer, and Helena joined one of the trains for her own circuit of the woods. There must have been at least eight steam engines of all types, all scaled down but functioning steam engines replicating the actual steam trains of the national railway from way back in the middle of the 20th century. We wandered about and watched the enthusiasts preparing their engines and then taking from the sidings to pick up a few coaches and then in turn, taking them onto the circular track to pick up passengers.

What occurred to me was that these men never smiled, although wrapped up in their hobby world, and hardly made any 'real' contact with the passengers and their families. It was as if they resented their presence in their domain. Perhaps I am wrong, but it seemed rather sad.

I watched the driver of this train spend a lot of time preparing his engine and then manoeuvring it from the sidings, onto an elevated turn-table allowing it to reach the access line to the carriage sidings and the circuit. I noticed he was ready to set off on his first train with passengers, so positioned myself just in front of the bridge over the Painswick stream. I am impressed that these tiny engines, which look completely real, could pull the weight of several carriages, a few adults and their children. I just wish there had been more emotion, amongst all the huffs and puffs of steam.

From my earlier blips you can tell that I love old steam trains, as seen in Stroud:

King Edward 1

Earl of Mount Edgcumbe

Clan Line