Evesham

I fortunately gained a place thanks to my interest in television technology.

Remember those books? And over the next two years, studied various courses Monday to Friday at the BBC's residential training facility at Evesham in the Midlands, and in between, worked at different BBC sites.

There is a phrase, "You know where you were when," that possibly has its origin with the assassinations of John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr.

Well, in 1977, psychologists Roger Brown and James Kulik coined the phrase flashbulb memories to describe those collective autobiographical memories.

The difficult thing with doing that in Herefordshire is there's just not really a lot of land available and what is available isn't very good.

Because anything that, a bit like the Vale of Evesham, isn't it really? It's, generally speaking, pretty good land.

You can grow anything.

So we can, you know, vegetables or fruits or potatoes, maize, the advent of more maize.

And hence the weather stations are really recording microclimate.

Interesting one is the three weather stations that lie in the Vale of Evesham.

We've

got two very close together, Perthshire Automatic and Perthshire College.

One need offer no excuse for this descriptive chapter because although the rhymes themselves are trite, the places are by no means so well known, your average Shakespeare country tourist being rarely so enterprising as he is commonly and quite erroneously supposed to be.

Stratford-on-Avon, Evesham, Warwick, Kenilworth, and Coventry, with their comfortable hotels, furnish forth the average pilgrim.

But if you are to know Shakespeare Land intimately, and if you would come into near touch with the poet and know him at closest quarters, you must linger in the villages that in every circumstance of picturesqueness are dotted about the valley of the Avon.

There as freshly as ever, when spring has not waned too far into the summer, the daisies pied and violets blue and lady smocks all silver white and cuckoo buds of yellow hue do paint the meadows with delight.

On an historic occasion, the daring fellows of Stratford went forth and challenged the Bidford men on their own ground, Shakespeare traditionally among them.

The topers were not at home.

They had gone to drink Evesham dry, but the sippers held the fort and duly maintained the honor of Bidford.

At the Falcon Inn, the contest was waged, and the Stratford men were ignominiously worsted, drawing off from the stricken field while yet there remained some with full command of their legs and ability to carry away those of their number who had fully succumbed.

As I went by, I saw carts carrying stone thence to amend Pursor Bridge, about a two miles off.

It is set on the top of a hill, full of wood, and a townlet hard by, and under the root of the hill is the vale of Evesham.

Rivers in Worcestershire.

Severn riseth in a hill called Plymlemon.

One need offer no excuse for this descriptive chapter because although the rhymes themselves are trite, the places are by no means so well known, your average Shakespeare country tourist being rarely so enterprising as he is commonly and quite erroneously supposed to be.

Stratford-on-Avon, Evesham, Warwick, Kenilworth, and Coventry, with their comfortable hotels, furnish forth the average pilgrim.

But if you are to know Shakespeare Land intimately, and if you would come into near touch with the poet and know him at closest quarters, you must linger in the villages that in every circumstance of picturesqueness are dotted about the valley of the Avon.

There as freshly as ever, when spring has not waned too far into the summer, the daisies pied and violets blue and lady smocks all silver white and cuckoo buds of yellow hue do paint the meadows with delight.

On an historic occasion, the daring fellows of Stratford went forth and challenged the Bidford men on their own ground, Shakespeare traditionally among them.

The topers were not at home.

They had gone to drink Evesham dry, but the sippers held the fort and duly maintained the honor of Bidford.

At the Falcon Inn, the contest was waged, and the Stratford men were ignominiously worsted, drawing off from the stricken field while yet there remained some with full command of their legs and ability to carry away those of their number who had fully succumbed.

The Outlaws.

It was a bright morning in the month of August when a lad of some fifteen years of age, sitting on a low wall, watched party after party of armed men riding up to the castle of the Earl of Evesham.

A casual observer glancing at his curling hair and bright open face, as also at the fashion of his dress, would at once have assigned to him a purely Saxon origin.

But a keener eye would have detected signs that Norman blood ran also in his veins.

The newcomer was dressed in the attire of a falconer, and two dogs followed at his heels.

Ah, Master Cuthbert, he said, what brings you so near to the castle? It is not often that you favor us with your presence.

I am happier in the woods, as you well know, and was on my way thither but now, when I paused at the sight of all these troopers flocking into Evesham.

What enterprise has Sir Walter on hand now, thank you? The Earl keeps his own counsel, said the falconer, but methinks a shrewd guess might be made at the purport of the gathering.

One need offer no excuse for this descriptive chapter, because although the rhymes themselves are trite, the places are by no means so well known, your average Shakespeare country tourist being rarely so enterprising as he is commonly and quite erroneously supposed to be.

Stratford-on-Avon, Evesham, Warwick, Kenilworth, and Coventry, with their comfortable hotels, furnish forth the average pilgrim.

But if you are to know Shakespeare Land intimately, and if you would come into near touch with the poet and know him at closest quarters, you must linger in the villages that in every circumstance of picturesqueness are dotted about the valley of the Avon.

There as freshly as ever, when spring has not waned too far into the summer, the daisies pied and violets blue and lady smocks all silver white and cuckoo buds of yellow hue do paint the meadows with delight.

On an historic occasion, the daring fellows of Stratford went forth and challenged the Bidford men on their own ground, Shakespeare traditionally among them.

The topers were not at home.

They had gone to drink Evesham dry, but the sippers held the fort and duly maintained the honor of Bidford.

At the Falcon Inn, the contest was waged, and the Stratford men were ignominiously worsted, drawing off from the stricken field while yet there remained some with full command of their legs and ability to carry away those of their number who had fully succumbed.