I’d been conscious since 6.15am, and following breakfast consumption, I’d completed my packing (trying to be methodical and tick things off my list so I don’t forget what I’ve put in my bag), and forgotten what else I did before getting in the car at 11.25am – when the car thought it was 8°C, the Google Maps lady had started giving directions from my phone, and I’d remembered to download an offline version of the map, and photograph the luggage in the car (and was quietly nibbling a bit of chocolate and thinking my hair looked quite nice).
Stoneleigh Road had ‘new road layout ahead’ signs along it, and massive concrete blocks were piled up for HS2 work, as well as blossomy trees; Coventry was entered via St Martins Road, a sign said Coventry was ‘the city of peace and reconciliation’, and fields were really misty either side of the road.
A big yellow sign said delays were possible until 2027 (due to HS2 construction), a lorry we briefly followed had a small ‘29000 kgs’ label on it; and on the M6, some sort of massive building project with big brown slabs was visible. ‘Currie Solutions’ was on a lorry, a Beesley Fuels tanker said on it ‘I run on HVO – which reduces net carbon emissions by 90%’, Birmingham looked rather misty from where we were on the M6, Aston Villa Football Club could be seen, an ‘exol’ tanker said ‘the worlds largest lubricant company’ on it, and then a ‘congestion caution’ sign made me wonder what the UKs most bunged up road is.
Staffordshire was entered at 12.15pm – just before the M54 was turned on to (and the cars milometer said 33333); 4 miles later was the Shropshire Union Canal; things looked misty either side of the road as we left it; and then the road got wiggled along following a ‘long vehicle’. A sign said ‘TONG-AD 2000’ on it and I forgot where I saw it, mistiness continued, somewhere called Sheriffhales was signed, a Bloomsbury nursery was advertising polyanthus, and a ‘wood quarry’ was just outside of Woodcote (where everything looked either very new or falling apart). Shropshire Petals Confetti was to one side of the A41 (which I was told goes all the way to Warwickshire) – being driven along at about 30mph due to following a tractor and 2 lorries (one of which was a ‘LONG VEHICLE’); on Newport Bypass something I forgot was mentioned to me that made me wonder who invented the term ‘Shire’…
Google says ‘Shire evolved from the Old English word scir (meaning an official charge, district, or care) used by Anglo-Saxon settlers in the early Middle Ages. It originated in the Kingdom of Wessex to describe administrative divisions, later spreading throughout England by the 10th century.
Anglo-Saxon Origin: The system was established in the early Middle Ages to divide land for administrative and legal purposes, controlled by a “shire reeve” (later known as a sheriff).
Wessex Roots: The system began in the Kingdom of Wessex and was extended to the rest of England during the 10th century.
Evolution of Meaning: The term is derived from Old English sċir, related to sciran (to cut, divide, or share) and scarian (to care), implying a region under supervision.
Shire vs. County: “Shire” was the traditional English term, while “county” was introduced after the Norman Conquest in the 11th century to describe the same administrative districts.
A tractor pulled over, and the River Meese wasn’t far from a place called Hinstock. A road sign warned of the end of the Crawler Lane; we had 31 miles to go at 1pm and Mum turned the radio on; in Tern Hill – ‘TROOPS AND VEHICLES CROSSING’ was a sign, and there was a prison I forgot the name of; we went over some horrendously bumpy roads due to numerous potholes; Cheshire was entered at 1.20pm – following a Real Dairy Ice Cream van; a massive stone gate/archway on Whitchurch Road said Bolesworth on it; and then was followed by the villages of Waverton (where there were brown signs for ‘Crocky Trail’), Rowton, and Christleton. I saw something I forgot because the Google Maps lady started talking again, there was a shop called Ginger Monkey, going the wrong way meant I noticed the Royal Chester Rowing Club, and Kutchen Haus, OFF THE WALL, and several more ludicrously named shops I forgot because we reached a concrete prison like car park at 2pm.
Signs everywhere said ‘drive forward into bays’, a very well spoken robot was saying ‘doors opening’ and ‘doors closing’ in the lift there, a couple of Japanese looking people were walking past; Sick To Death seemed to be a place; and in the hotel I saw ‘The Hole In Wand Wizard Golf Chester’ leaflets (which involved a magical potion), the receptionist gave us discount tickets for the car park; and then we went up to room 120, and a Travel Lodge, Tesco Express, and overflowing rubbish bins was the view from the window. Up there, the kettle got boiled, I found a bit of hand cream and a cranberry and rose teabag, Mum started eating cheese she’d brought with her, the beds were on wheels and very mobile (so I was wondering if they could be considered a health and safety hazard), then she spoke German and coughed a lot, I’d looked up the Sick To Death museum – which wasn’t far away – and then I did some gap filling in my notepad.
We left the room at 3.43pm, were repeatedly told by Google Maps (directing us to this museum via my phone) to stay on Pepper Street, went the wrong way, asked a fluorescent jacketed man holding an Amazon parcel; and I forgot when we arrived because we went through another door into a very very dark Diagnosis Alley…
…someone in there started talking about mucky clothes (which were dangling on washing lines) and saying ‘god save our souls’; a dead swan, a sheep head, half a dead pig, and an apron saying how barbers also yanked teeth out were also dangling; a disemboweled human was dangling on a wall next to a board with lots of pins on titled ‘The Game of Death’…
and then a plastic sliced open model of someone in swimming trunks was on a table in The Autopsy Room, and models of vegetables weighing similarly to human organs.
The next room seemed to be about healing, and mentioned the theory of the 4 humours; there were 3 big bottles available to sniff – relating to the Great Stink of 1858 (and they were all revolting)(and caused both of us to blurt out ‘urgh’)…
..a statue of someone wearing a mask used during the Black Death was nearby; and a boxed off corner of the room labelled as ‘mature content’ contained models demonstrating was sexually transmitted diseases do to genitals, pubic hair styles, how condoms developed, and names of bits of the genitals.
Bloody rags were around a corner labelled as ‘The Barbers Surgeons’ explained how the barbers pole got it’s colour, and showed the methods of surgery used (and mentioned the word ‘surgery’ comes from the ancient Greek words for hand labour); and a ‘Guess The Organ’ box that Mum stuck her hand in had a brain, lungs, liver, and bladder in it.
Sanitation in Medieval England got explained, followed by medieval physicians and uroscopy/water casting – where there were urine odours to smell, loo seats on a wall to lift, with facts underneath – including that there’s a $23 million toilet on the International Space Station. Mum tried to identify leg bones; and then loads and loads of boards about supposed cures for things included quack medicine, Donald Trump’s suggestions of injecting disinfectant, and having a dose of horse saliva for impaired libido, medieval fast food causing botulism, and there was a big grim reaper in the corner of a room about herbal medicine, then leeches were mentioned; creepy music continued in the shop area, and an ambulance was passing by as we left the building.
