Sutton Cheney and Shenton

On Friday I took my life in my hands and walked the country lane route to Sutton Cheney, a small village (uphill) with once again a large church, St James.

There wasn’t much else there so I continued walking along the slightly better road until I came to The Bosworth Battle Centre overflow car park and then was able to walk across safer fields to reach the Center itself.

Center Entrance

In the grounds of the center now resides King Richards Stone

With an admission charge to enter and not being that interested in spending too much time learning about the battle I took a stroll across the nearer parts of the site.

Monument to commemorate the loss of over a thousand lives
on the 22nd August 1485 on Bosworth Field.

For those who are particularly interested in this major part of English history which effectually ended the War of the Roses, there was also a trail that could be followed on foot across the very spread out area of the battle with audio posts at various places, I listened to the first one which told the tale of a farm hand, voiced by an actor as if it were the farm hand speaking, who was called to join the battle force, I didn’t follow the rest of the trail, as I said it didn’t particularly enthrall me although it also gave some wonderful views of the surrounding area.

I had taken a circular route to get to the center so it was only a short 15minute stroll through Albion Wood to bring me back alongside Quinquireme, where a beautiful serving wench made me tea and buttered scones while I relaxed, or maybe not, as this is 2015 and not 1485 I had to make my own.

Saturday saw a chilly and late start for me and a short hop to just past Shenton, mooring again in the open countryside rather than the designated spots.

After sorting myself out I watched the Formula One qualifying sessions and then took a quick stroll to the local farm shop for milk, I had no bread and neither did they so I had my first attempt at bread making on the boat, filling the boat with that gorgeous smell, and as the evenings are definitely cooler and for the past few days I have lit the stove so it really was nice and toasty on the boat.

I had a strange dream last night about needing a new engine, like most dreams it made no sense at all; I just hope it wasn’t a premonition. With the weekly fry up breakfast sorted and washing up done I decided to walk to Shenton Station, it was 10:59 and with coat and boots on and everything ready to go I thought I’d better check the time of the Grand Prix, assuming it would be 12:30 or so, what a good job I looked, coverage began at 11:00am, postpone walk.

After the F1, well done Lewis, I walked the towpath back to the lane leading up to Shenton Station

This is the southern end of a 5mile section of preserved rail line that was originally the Ashby and Nuneaton Joint railway, which closed to passenger trains in 1931; it’s now referred to as “The Battlefield Line” and runs between Shenton and Shackerstone, I got there just in time to hear the steam whistle of “Cumbria” approaching with the engine reversing and pulling the carriages into the station.

The engine then reversed back further and moved forward past the carriages to face the correct way before setting off again with tourists and enthusiasts aboard.

I headed off toward the aqueduct to take me under the canal and into the village of Shenton and snapped this picture from the top at canal level before continuing on into the village.