Cirencester

Coxwell Street, Cirencester, by Graham_B. Image used under Creative Commons, click pic for link.

If there’s two things that have stuck in your mind from learning the Romans at primary school, I’ll bet it’s that all their roads were straight; and that if a town ends in “chester” or “cester”, then it was Roman. Good old Romans, making things nice and logical for us. Cirencester nicely fulfils the latter, its name a descendent of the Latin Corinium Dobunnorum. The town that’s now Cirencester was established as a fort in the earliest part of the Roman occupation of Britannia, and when the frontier with those crazy Celts moved towards Wales and the fort abandoned by soldiers, the local Dobunni tribe moved in, hence the name – it grew into the second largest city of the province. Approaching Cirencester, you’ll also not fail to see evidence of the roads as well: this was a major junction on the Fosse Way between Exeter and Lincoln, the long, strangely direct road through the Cotswolds (further evidence at Stow, Moreton-in-Marsh and Northleach); at Cirencester it met Akeman Street (between St Albans and Gloucester), and Ermin Street (between Gloucester and Silchester).

So, an important town for a long time, and it has retained this status despite being comparatively small compared to neighbours like Swindon or Gloucester. A quick google for “capital of the Cotswolds” places Cirencester firmly as the main town of this Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, and therefore firmly within the aspirational urbanite dream of bucolic isolation. Let’s be clear here: the Cotswolds are not bucolic isolation in the way the highlands of Scotland, or the Welsh desert are; they’re very much on the trainline into Oxford and London, and you’re more likely to find pink corduroy and David Cameron’s children in the pub than pentagrams and scary locals. Nevertheless, in a reserved, chocolate-box, typified English way, this is a thoroughly picturesque part of Southern England and well worth a riverside stroll or a cream tea stop. Cirencester is the biggest town in the area, but still absolutely full of the local stone, as planning regs insist – charming to some, a bit much for me.

The town centre is dominated by this particular stone, and it’s most notable in the cleaned up medieval church of St John the Baptist, in Market Place. Rather than the rain-softened pale yellow generally found in the Cotswolds, the south porch has been polished to a bright magnolia effect, and really looks quite odd. Each to their own I suppose. This is the centre of town, no doubt: Castle Street broadens into a marketplace, and coaching inns and coffee shops line the facades. Here you’ll find Sue Ryder and an Oxfam bookshop, which is really a very pleasant bookshop. It’s the thoroughfares leading away from town that are the most propitious though. Head West on Castle Street (there’s no castle, not since Henry III) towards the vast Bathhurst Estate and you’ll come across Age UK and Cancer Research in close proximity. The opposite direction takes you into a more modern section of the town centre, or perhaps modernist, as the occasional 1960s precinct appears in an otherwise well-turned out country town. Here you’ll find Cotswold Hospice Care, British Heart Foundation, and Salvation Army. These are somewhat unremarkable shops all, but far from poor; in fact, the Sally Army has turned up Le Creuset cookware before now.

Head South off the marketplace (along yet another picturesque limestoned street, Cricklade) and you really hit the jackpot. In quick succession there’s a Barnado’s (just off the road in the understated Bishop’s Walk arcade), Helen & Douglas House (always worth a visit), British Red Cross, Blue Cross and RSPCA. All fairly worthy charity shops. Worth pointing out here is the back entrance to the market hall – besides the market, this is where the public loos are. Not a particularly interesting fact, until you consider the 20p charge to use the ones in the car park that get the letter-to-the-editor-writer in me grumbling. The market hall itself is a cut through to opposite the church, and is home to some boutiquey shops and a rather nice looking coffee bar.

I’ll be honest: I’m not such a fan of Cotswold architecture as much as I admire, say, the slate austerity of the Lakes, or the dusky red-brick of north Worcestershire. But I know it appeals to many and if that’s you, then Cirencester is a feast of quite lovely and interesting buildings. Quite besides this, there’s plenty to look at and in, and of course a sizable haul of charity shops. It’s been an excellent place to stop on the cross-country route between various parts of my family, and being smack in the heart of these famous undulations, it’s a lovely journey both sides. So Cirencester comes pretty highly recommended.

Find: Cirencester @ Google Maps
Get there: if not by Roman road, then it’ll have to be some other sort of road I’m afraid, unless you’re willing to schlep from Kemble station, four miles hence.
Consume with: there’s all the usual, but I’d like to try that coffee shop in the market arcade.
Visit: I’d suggest either the Corinium museum or the Cotswold Water Park
Overall rating: four straggly balls of wool

Kidderminster

Kidderminster Snow, Dec 2010, by Frosted Peppercorn. Image used under Creative Commons licence, click pic for link.

Ah, Kiddy. How do I start to describe Kiddy?

Kidderminster is a near neighbour to us now, a 20 minute bus ride from the end of the road. To get there from us one travels through the understated loveliness of the South Staffs/North Worcs borders and into the ‘burbs at Broadwaters. From then on, you have to somehow negotiate a large-scale system of one-ways and ring-roads to get into the town centre, and you’re usually best off just heading into the first car park you see: I’ve been there many, many times now and still struggle to orientate myself from one end to the other. If you’re on the bus, you’ll hop off at the bus station, conveniently situated for the new Weavers Wharf development. This is the best of Kiddy, commercially-speaking. Debenhams, for example, is housed in the former Slingfield Mill, its restored chimney towering over the town centre. Nearby, the college is housed in the sympathetically restored Piano Building. You’ll find all the big name shops you could want between here and the Carpet Trades retail park over the road (Kidderminster’s trade of repute is carpets, to this day).

However, Kidderminster is very much a split-personality kind of town. Cross the bridge over the Stour into the town centre itself, and you’re faced with somewhat crumbling 1960s office edifices, an unkempt wind tunnel of a main street with a dirty market, and several Greggs. That kind of town. For all that, I view it very affectionately: just like Waltham Cross was an ugly but fruitful source of bargain shopping, I can’t help but love Kidderminster. It’s a cheap place to live as well: all the fine Victorian villas around the town are much more fiscally accessible than the same would be in, say, Bromsgrove or Stourbridge nearby. The opening of Weaver’s Wharf in 2004 was no doubt intended to spark some gentrification in the prime territory skirting the town centre; but as yet, one road off the ring road will still find you in a street roughly resembling Hamsterdam.

The pros and cons of Kidderminster as a place to live are up for debate. What’s indisputable is that this is a serious charity shop tourism destination. I’ll explain the latter part first, and this might be just me. I am a fan of canals. I’ve yet to build a model set, but it’s certainly a possibility, and Kiddy is a canal town. The Stour flows through the town to the Severn, and alongside it the Staffordshire & Worcestershire canal, offering waterborn transport to Stourport and the big river one way, and Kinver, the Birmingham canal network, Wolverhampton, Stafford and onward the other. It’s also a train town: today the Black Country express through Smethwick and Cradley Heath continues on to Kidderminster, Droitwich and Worcester, but you can also change for the Severn Valley Railway through to Bridgnorth. For those slightly in thrall to industrial architecture as I am, there’s plenty to point at in Kiddy – in fact, it could be a real selling point for the town given its distinctive history. That’s my advice to the Kidderminster tourist board, and you’re welcome.

However, for the purposes of this blog (and our repeat visits): we count sixteen charity shops. Sixteen. If this was the Final Score vide-printer, that would say 16 (sixteen)  for clarification. I think it’s a record. For the sake of completeness, they are: Oxfam; British Heart Foundation (and BHF Furniture & Electricals); British Red Cross; Sense; Forces UK (and Forces Furniture & Electricals); Marie Curie; Salvation Army; Cancer Research; Scope; Mind; Happy Staffie Rescue; Forest Dog Rescue; YMCA; and Kemp Hospice. The highlights include Kemp Hospice, at least so I’m told – we often return with considerably more fabric than when we arrived; the large furniture shops are worth a gander as well – we bought our washing machine from BHF, and have espied a great quantity of furniture that we would have purchased, if only we still had the car. We’ve ended up with bits and bobs from most of these shops though.

We have problems with Kidderminster. It’s an easy place to get to on the bus, it’s got all the shops we need etc., but we find it hard to miss out charity shops. You know, just in case. So, it’s always a hike around the SIXTEEN charity shops, and you know what – it’s brilliant. It’s a funny old place, and it could be wonderful with a bit of love. But I like it as it is.

Find: Kidderminster @ Google Maps
Get there: the 125 bus goes to Stourbridge and Bridgnorth, or there’s regular trains from Birmingham and Worcester.
Consume with: there’s the normal array of chain coffee and a pretty rough-looking ‘spoons, but I’m still intending to visit Ye Olde Seven Stars, a CAMRA recommended pub where guests are encouraged to bring their own lunch.
Visit: whilst not neglecting the legendary WM Safari Park, probably the funnest day out is going to be on the steam train.
Overall rating: five fat quarters (1 1/4 wholes?)

Ashbourne

Ashbourne, by John Bennett. Image used under Creative Commons, click image for link.

If I ever found myself in my own, personalised Hell, it would probably be something like the Edinburgh Festival. Large crowds of non-purposefully-walking visitors, lots of people handing me leaflets and (ugh) street performers everywhere, trying to talk to me and trick me into having fun using theatrical whispers and exaggerated movements. Possibly pink tutus and a boombox. I recognise my own misanthropy, but I don’t feel the need to apologise for it: that would be hellish.

Regrettably, we turned up in this Derbyshire Dales town on the second day of the annual Ashbourne Festival, a miniature version of this sort of street art event. And yes, ugh, I didn’t like it. Being on the return leg of a journey to Manchester to see The Boss (I had to get that in), I feel like I know a thing or two about talented performers. Nevertheless, I am strong-willed enough to try and put my prejudices aside and see the town for what it is, and thankfully, what it is is very nice. Reading the Wikipedia article for the town is like reading a 9 year old’s school project; in reality, the town is a cute market town like many others, the central shopping area surrounding a triangular market square. There are many quaint cafes and delis, a market (although this isn’t really worth writing home about) and, of course, plenteous charity shops.

You know you’re in for a competitive afternoon when there are sandwich boards around town pointing you to Mind as the town’s best charity shop. It’s not all that, although not a bad place to start. It competes on St John Street with British Heart Foundation (who need to sack their interior designers stat), and on Buxton Road with Salvation Army and Cancer Research, both of which earn their keep on the main drag. Following the pedestrianised market area around brings you to a large Lighthouse Hospice shop (this time around a welcome relief from some prancing numpties just outside) as well as a monster bakers shop. Yum.

Turn down Dig Street (steering around the be-tutu’d man and the wardens) for a very reasonable selection in Oxfam Books & Music, then towards the new-looking Waitrose where you’ll find Treetops Hospice and AgeUK.

We didn’t make any purchases (excepting a bunch of bananas from Derek’s fruit and veg to get change for the car park) (and a coffee) (and cake) on this visit to Ashbourne, but would certainly return. The frugality is more enforced than by choice, but come with a ready wallet and you’ll certainly find something worth stopping for in this little town. If nothing else, you’re at the edge of Dovedale and the Peaks, with some of the country’s finest scenery on your doorstep. Go look.

Find: Ashbourne @ Google Maps
Get there: Another one with no station, but plenty of car parking by the looks of things. Alternatively, trek here via the Tissington Trail or the Limestone Way.
Consume with: There are many cafes and coffee shops – we chose Costa (because it was closest).
Visit: no doubt there’s plenty in town, but I’d recommend striking out – you’re soon in Dovedale and the southern edge of the Peak District – there’s Matlock, Bakewell, Buxton and other towns close by, and more than sufficient viewpoints. You could also pick your moment and arrive for the annual Shrovetide football, a melée more than a match.
Overall rating: four Steig Larssons.

Kendal

Branthwaite Brow, Kendal, England by pixelsandpaper, under Creative Commons. Click for link.

Despite being the biggest town for some distance, Kendal has never been a county town, or the capital of the Lake District or anything. Rather, it was the centre of one of two baronies which made up the historic county of Westmorland, later subsumed into Cumbria, and today is a minor administrative HQ for the South Lakeland district council. However, it’s always been a hub, a market town drawing trade from across the most dramatic scenery of England, and remains so today – bigger than the nestled quaintness of Keswick, or the tourist-heavy Windermere or Ambleside, Kendal’s become a properly lovely little town, more than just mint cake.

You descend into Kendal via ranks of grey limestone cottages, flanked on every side by, if not formally the Lake District national park, then certainly the foothills of the Cumbrian mountains, the Shap fells, even looking towards Sedbergh and the Yorkshire Dales. It’s easily found from the M6, with snow-capped peaks in the background winking at you. There’s a fairly completed, if scenic, one-way system which (if you’re not careful) will whizz you over the River Kent and out again. We’ve parked in the shopping centre the couple of times we’ve visited. Sometimes it’s best just to find the first big blue P and go there.

Kendal town centre is based around Highgate and the excellently-named Stricklandgate, a hilly, semi-pedestrianised main drag which is complemented by several quaint side streets and a market square (as well as the Westmorland shopping centre). The charity shops cluster around the junction between the two ‘gates: at this point there’s a twin Oxfam (similarly to Glossop) with a good range particularly in the bookshop. This one’s definitely worth a stop for the Lakes guidebook/map hunter, although be warned – Oxfam always knows the value of a book, so don’t be expecting to pick up bargain Wainwright guides.

Almost next door you’ll find Scope, then over the road a Salvation Army and St John Hospice. These latter two are large shops filled with a veritable plethora of stuff; the British Heart Foundation slightly up the hill is less good, and is annoyingly laid-out, as per usual. Off the marketplace there’s a pretty good Barnado’s shop – this one had a pile of vintage fabrics when we were there as well as a fez. It goes without saying that the latter proved more tempting…

Finally, AgeUK is on Finkle Street, a tiddly little lane just off the main shopping route, but which makes a nice loop around – it’s accessible from both ends round the back of the marketplace. This is just an ordinary little shop, but did throw up a pretty decent record player for just £6.50, which is cheerful. We’ve been listening to Peter Gabriel and Dire Straits ever since.

I feel like I should be able to wax more lyrical about Kendal – perhaps Monday morning isn’t the best time of week for composing prose. Don’t let me put you off by the matter-of-fact post – Kendal’s a really lovely little town, definitely worth a visit.

Find: Kendal @ Google Maps
Get there: Kendal’s on the very scenic rail branch line from Lancaster to Windermere, which looks worth a go.
Consume with: Costa is a safe bet as normal.
Visit: as with so many of our visits recently, get walking. While Kendal itself lies in the Kent valley, you’re not far from anay of the Lake District here – Windermere is 8 miles on, Longsleddale (inspiration for Greendale) is the nearest hillage, and you’re not far from the Howgill Fells either.
Overall rating: four Dire Straits albums

   

Droitwich Spa

Droitwich floods 2007 (2) by Ruth Flickr is used under Creative Commons. Click pic for link.

In theory, there’s no reason why Droitwich Spa shouldn’t be a perfectly pleasant little town. Though home to a significant swathe of commuter development from the sixties onwards, Droitwich is its own community with its own salt-working industrial heritage stretching back to Roman times, when the town was called Salinae. The natural water of the town is ten times saltier than the Dead Sea, no less, and that led to DS becoming a Victorian spa town known for the restorative properties of a dip in its waters. Situated on the River Salwarpe and the Droitwich Canal, directly between the edges of urban Birmingham and the medieval splendour of Worcester, I repeat: there’s no reason why this shouldn’t be a lovely little town.

The problem with Droitwich is hard to pin down. Despite its Roman, medieval, Victorian and Edwardian heritage, the town centre is drab and lifeless. A sunny Saturday afternoon should bring the best out of a town, but this oddly warm October day saw a very few disinterested shoppers poking at a collection of pound shops and budget-end retail chains. The rail station is somewhat out of town, leaving some buses for the intrepid few. But why go to the effort of going into Droitwich when you have the full gamut of shopping facilities just a few miles down the road in Bromsgrove, Worcester or Birmingham?

Droitwich has it’s share of charity shops. On St Andrews Road there’s a mid-sized Salvation Army and a Blue Cross, next to a fairly massive, crowded secondhand furniture shop which is worth mentally tucking away. In the St Andrew’s Square shopping development, which seems to be what life there is to the town, there’s also a very standard Cancer Research shop. The rest of the shopping stretches down High Street – there’s one or two secondhandy shops, some quiet looking delis, that sort of thing, alongside Acorn Hospice and St Richard’s Hospice, which is hidden down a little side road towards the big Waitrose.

We didn’t come away with any purchases of note on that unseasonably hot Saturday afternoon, and in no way feel tempted to give DS a second chance, if only for the intense difficulty of finding something nice to eat for a late lunch. The town has potential in all its history, but needs some serious work to make it a viable destination for anything.

Find: Droitwich Spa @ Google Maps
Get there: the trainline is a little bit out of town, buses are occasional and walking is hard. Sigh.
Consume with: good question! You find me the answer and I’ll let you know.
Visit: the classy amongst you might enjoy the famous Droitwich Spa Lido.
Overall rating: two (just!) damaged headphones.

 

Stourbridge

Arches by Nickster 2000, used under a Creative Commons license. Click pic for link.

Today, you’ll find Stourbridge as the westernmost compass point of a sprawling West Midlands conurbation, butting right up against some glorious Staffordshire/Worcestershire/Shropshire countryside. But it wasn’t always so: the Black Country isn’t like London with its endless 1930′s ribbon developments radiating out from the centre; rather, each town is a definable centre, each with a purpose (at least, orginally). Cradley is called the home of chain-making, Walsall’s famous for its leather trade, Wolverhampton for its steel. Stourbridge is no different and became, particularly during the nineteenth century, a world centre for the glass industry after significant Huguenot in-migration. The twenty-first century is a very different era and the Black Country is becoming a post-industrial society – though certainly not out of choice. Stourbridge retains an artisan-led glass quarter (around Kingswinford and Amblecote), but today finds itself as much a dormitory town for Birmingham, just the other side of the M5.

Stourbridge holds a particularly happy place in this blogger’s heart, however: it’s where he and his Charity Shop Partner (slash wife) have just moved, so chances are you’ll be hearing plenty more from the West Midlands and its environs over the next few months. Its location right on the edge of the countryside makes it a very appealing place to live – as accessible for the urban delights of Birmingham as for the craggy heights of Shropshire or the Malverns. If we fancy a breath of fresh air these days, we don’t have to drive to a gloomy Essex coast or wander through a crowded Epping Forest: we can ascend the overlooking Clent Hills and have our breath removed by a view spanning to Wales or the Cotswolds.

But that’s enough about me – more importantly, this is a charity shop shopping blog and has its priorities. Happily, Stourbridge punches pretty well. In a less touchy-feely era of civic government than our own, a Nascar styled ring road (see below) was built around the town centre and it’s within the ring road that you’ll find the bulk of the town’s shops. Note though – there are other charity shops scattered around, notably a couple in Wollaston that I may or may not touch on another time. Within the pretty attractive town centre I count a good nine charity shops as well as various other amenities and local shops. You wouldn’t come to Stourbridge for a day’s shopping experience any more, as you wouldn’t go to Dudley, Brierley Hill, Halesowen, or any other community within the catchment area of the monolithic Merry Hill centre, so be warned of that.

There’s a stretch of charity shops on the High Street including a pretty sweet and not-too-expensive Oxfam: we located a pile of cheap Jo Nesbo books and, happily, three Granta magazines for £1.50, which are now populating the landing bookcase. Having brokenheartedly sold several hundred books in the move, we now appear to be doing our best to counteract that. There’s also Barnardos, Marie Curie, Acorn’s Hospice and British Heart Foundation, and best of all the huge Mary Stevens Hospice Shop, fundraising for the hospice which is located in Stourbridge itself. There’s a second huge Mary Stevens shops in Victoria Passage, a sneaky cut also containing cafs, restaurants and little boutiquey shops. This Mary Stevens, as with the main one, sells plenty of furniture as well as clothes and books – the one on the high street has an entire upstairs bookshop. Look out for cast iron fireplaces and patio sets. On Lower High Street you’ll find Cats Protection League, just up from King Edward VI college – educators of Robert Plant and Samuel Johnson, no less. Then back up Market Street to find Happy Staffie Rescue and Scope. That just leaves the very mid-century Ryemarket Centre where you’ll find Waitrose and Smiths and the like, as well as PDSA and Salvation Army.

While Stourbridge is hardly remarkably beautiful or noteworthy, it turns out that it’s a very pleasant place to wile away some time. It’s a bustling little town centre with some gorgeous buildings – King Eds, the Town Hall and St Thomas’ church are all very attractive. It makes a great stop on a day out to the country as well – it’s only a short hop from here to Bridgnorth or the Wyre Forest. Best of all, a whole heap of charity shops – if this was the Grandstand vidiprinter, that would be 11 (eleven).

Find: Stourbridge @ Google Maps
Get there: Plenty of buses end at the bus station, and you also have the shortest branch line in Europe terminating at Stourbridge Town with its funny little trains.
Consume with: There are plenty of coffee and food places around – there’s a Caffe Nero, and The Well looks quite nice. If you’re willing to expand your horizons, there’s many pubs doing a wallet-friendly £3.69 carvery (The Old White Horse), some doing some lovely food in a lovely location (The Vine, Kinver) and of course, plenty of curry (I recommend Balti Bazaar in Lye).
Visit: The Glass Quarter is full of museums and things to do – the Red House Cone is basically a big red cone for making glass, and if glass is your thang, you’ll find plenty of interest at Broadfield House or the Ruskin Glass Centre. If not, take a wander along the canal or to the lovely Mary Stevens Park.
Overall rating: five antique fireplaces

Walthamstow

Walthamstow Legs, under Creative Commons, by Andy Howell. Click pic for link to photostream.

It was with some trepidation that we headed out for a stroll along a soggy Walthamstow High Street this Saturday past. Not because of the usual fears, that the vast hordes of market shoppers would infuriate and aggravate us, or that we’d have so much choice of bowls of fruit that our heads would explode; rather, this being the first time I’d ventured out for a proper shop since I broke my hip in May, that I would keel over from fatigue before scenting the perfect bargain. It didn’t happen, obviously, but Walthamstow is at best a proposition and a half on a Saturday. The mile long market (the longest in Europe) becomes a magnet for the bargain hunters of the whole of East and North London and whether you’re after knock-off perfume, fabric, fruit’n'veg or rare reggae, you’re bound to find it here between Tubby Isaacs‘ jellied eels and various roti or kebab stalls. Diamondgeezer‘s not keen, but I have to confess I find the place kind of fun, when I have the energy – there’s not many places like it.

With my limited mobility, we only perused the top half of the market, which was still enough for me – from Palmerston Street up to Walthamstow Central station and back. If you’re interested, there’s a huge Asda and a huge Sainsburys up here, but Walthamstow High Street is really about the little independent shops – there’s relatively few large chain stores (outside of the mall in Selborne Walk), and a lot of these are your Percy Ingles, Greggs variety. For such a lengthy stretch there’s also relatively few charity shops, and you won’t get a proper review of the whole lot here for the simple reason that I didn’t go to them all. There is a couple worth a mention though, so we’ll continue.

First up is YMCA, a beast of a shop with (I notice now) a ramp in the middle. There’s a good selection of clothing here, and I came away with a short-sleeved summer shirt (Primark, I think, which probably means YMCA are selling it for more than it was originally…) and an Idlewild album. At the top end of the High Street (approaching Walthamstow Village, which I still have a hard time believing exists), there’s two British Heart Foundation stores: one a normal, well-stocked shop (if nothing worth buying), one a vast furniture and electrical emporium. These places are always worth noting: this shop has beds, suites, and all sorts of furniture as well as a range of white goods and electronics, TVs and hifis, you name it. At this juncture it seems appropriate to mention the Sally Army Thrift Store on Forest Road: a bit out of the way for a trek along the High Street, but again a furniture shop, as well as plenty more besides. It’s up opposite the William Morris gallery.

At the end of the High Street is Hoe Street, and there’s an Islamic Relief shop there: I’ve not been, so we trek back down the market to the other side of Palmerston Road and we have a couple more, which I didn’t get to this time round: there’s a Scope, Help The Aged and CREST, and a slightly forlorn Oxfam right at the bottom.

While Walthamstow is not generally for the fainthearted, especially at the weekend, for the brave/foolhardy there’s plenty to see here, or come just for the experience of such a huge, bizarre market – with plenty of thrifty choices as well as coffee shops, you should be able to grab a bargain too, which always helps.

Find: Walthamstow @ Google Maps
Consume with: There’s plenty of cafs and coffee shops, but for something a little more traditional, I might recommend the aforementioned Tubby Isaacs for jellied eels, or Manzes for pie and mash.
Visit: The William Morris gallery is worth a look: set in the former home of the painter, decorater, writer and social reformer, it’s mostly dedicated to Morris‘ famous patterns.
Overall rating: four old bits of underwear

Falmouth

 

Herring gull, by andyrob under Creative Commons. Click pic for link.

Originally known as Pennycomequick (maybe as a companion to the nearby Come-To-Good), Falmouth is quite the historic town. Part of the third deepest natural harbour system in the world (After Sydney and Milford Haven, apparently), the town is at the mouth of the river Fal, and a long way down South West in Cornwall. Famous for its military association (right back to Henry VIII) and as the preferred starting point for round-the-world types like Ellen MacArthur, Robin Knox-Johnston and Sir Francis Chichester, Falmouth is nothing if not the maritime town, and this is notable in every way throughout.

 

It actually makes for a very nice town: the new dockside developments are all very wooden and fresh-looking, and after a quick detour into Trago Mills,  a delicious fish and chips lunch was consumed – in fact, one of the best I’ve had. We ate overlooking the battleship in the harbour, and sat, and gossiped in the sun: it’s a lovely place for that.

And then onwards, to the charity shops. Falmouth the commercial centre is really arranged along two lengthy main drags. From the chippie, we make our way along Arwenack Street, which in turn becomes Church Street, then Market Street. This winding, cobbled street is the heart of the quaint old town: all the shops you’d like to see are hear, and few more cute ones beside. Proceeding away from the harbour, you first come to the pairing of the Cornwall Hospice and National Animal Welfare Trust. The former is a nice enough shop with an upstairs section, but the latter is a cluttered, interesting, junky delight. 

Then onwards to British Heart Foundation – a word to the wise, if you’re after a coffee by this time, Costa has the best seats I’ve seen in a coffee shop, maybe ever. Lodged into the rugged crenellations of the sea wall, these tables overlook the harbour directly, over two levels. Definitely worth a stop. Onwards then, to Oxfam and Cancer Research at the foot of the High Street. Once you’ve looked at these though, take a left along Webber Street to the broad conjunction of Killigrew Street and Berkeley Vale. Here you’ll find the grand post office, located through the back of  a coffee shop, and a variety of more everyday shops (no White Stuffs here, no chain coffee) – you’ll find a Cornwall Hospice up here (according to Google Maps, at least) and a Salvation Army – we didn’t make it this far, time being against us.

Falmouth was a thoroughly pleasant place to spend a quiet, sunny, holiday afternoon. There’s plenty to satisfy the shopper, the lounger, the bargain hunter, the viewfinder, and plenty of other holidaymaking ilks besides.

Find: Falmouth on Google Maps
Consume with: Chips and coffee – as above.
Visit: Henry VIII’s Pendennis Castle overlooks the town and the beaches, and is open through English Heritage.
Overall rating: five ghoulish celebrity autobiographies

Letchworth

Fountain and town hall, Letchworth Garden City, under Creative Commons from Gregory Williams’ photostream. Click pic for link.

Did-You-Know-That of the day: Letchworth should not be called Letchworth Garden City. Despite its innovation in the field of mass suburbanisation over a century ago, the modern day settlement is really just an extension of the original town of Letchworth as compared to, say, Welwyn Garden City, built adjacent to the old Welwyn.

With that cleared up, on to Letchworth itself. Or rather, into. One enters Letchworth via a grandiose, treelined avenue leading to an impressive, large-scale square cum garden arrangement, with fountains, a looming town hall structure at the end, an art-deco cinema… It’s all a bit bewildering, and so completely different from the organic, historic towns (we came here from Hitchin) that England is used to, although it does have its own interesting past.

It’s a bit of a letdown when you get to the town centre, then. It feels a bit windswept, empty of life and character. Lots of discount stores, empty shops, not many actual people. The charity shops are a mixed bag. A closed Oxfam Bookshop, a Sally Army which we didn’t spot, a Scope which we avoided in order to get out of Dodge, as it were.

That left a small but winding Mind, filled with books and local, genuine, actual punks flicking through the Playstation games, and a British Heart Foundation with – like all these shops – a decent DVD selection, evidence of a town with little else to do. I left with Cormac McCarthy’s Border Trilogy in a handy single volume. Typically, I’d found the middle one separately elsewhere just previously. Clearly, McCarthy is like London buses in this respect.

That just leaves the star of the show, Garden House Hospice - one of the largest charity shops I’ve ever visited, on a par with the Cambridge Oxfam, the Walthamstow Sally Army and the Epping Sue Ryder. This sprawling outlet features sofas and dressers, arrays of books, Shaun of the Dead on DVD, elderly typewriters, bags of used golf balls, dresses and clothes that you’d wear to your wedding.

If Letchworth wasn’t such a spooky place to visit, this shop alone would make it worthwhile. As it is, it confuses the life out of me – I’m a bit fascinated by it all, but I don’t know if I’d return.

Find: Letchworth at Google Maps
Transport: Letchworth Garden City station, via First Capital Connect
Consume with: we didn’t linger that long. It says something that on return to the car, we consumed the rest of a piece of bread pudding bought in Hitchin, rather than find somewhere here.
Visit: The Letchworth Garden City museum could actually be quite interesting.
Overall rating: three golf balls

Hitchin

 

Church, under Creative Commons from Limbo Poet's photostream. Click pic for link.

There’s something a little bit familiar about Hitchin. It’s not that I’ve been here before, rather that this is an archetypal English town: cobbled market square, narrow alleys, beautiful wall writing and flourishes, huge central church, riverside walk with swans, you name it, it’s here. As such it’s a really lovely place, and thankfully, it’s not lost any of its ancient charm.

Hitchin’s been around since the dark ages, and has thrived on its market. These days, the central square is empty of traders, who locate themselves on a much larger plot to the side of St. Marys church – little of your frou frou organic breads or wild mushrooms here, Hitchin market is a bustling, proper market: odds and sods from one stand, traders barking vegetables at passersby minding their own business, a discount meat lorry with an affable brummie, offering as much as you can fit in your freezer for twenty pounds.

Just a short walk from the market, past the odd, confused, but ginormous church, all mismatched in its colouring, and over the small navigated path of the River Hiz, you’ll end up in the town square, today home to buskers and coffee carts, and a general meeting point. With a four faced clock overlooking you (courtesy of Gatwards jewellers, est. 1760), you can point yourself in any direction and find a genuine haul of charity shop goodies.

Totter south down Sun Street (carefully now, mind those stones) to Help The Aged, a spacious shop which we visited twice, thankfully finding the object of our desires still there. Wander further and you’ll find a shop specialising in Ordnance Survey maps: I chose not to visit in the estimation that I would never leave…

Go south-west of the square and you’ll find a Scope and one of the two Cancer Research shops sat on the corner. Cancer Research caters (in a small way) to the retro/vintage market with a small shelf dedicated to the same, although whoever makes the choice of what qualifies as retro/vintage may need some sort of big city exposure.

Head past the Corn Exchange to the little arcade on West Alley: here you’ll find a Salvation Army shop that closes at one, so cannot face review. More notable for me however, next to the secondhand bookshop is the wonderful Touch Of Garnish, a tiny but heaving caf which served us up a magnificent hot roast pork and apple sauce sandwich, and a first-rate bread pudding. Wonderful stuff, and wonderfully friendly types manning the station: Larry Garnish (real name!) seemed ever so proud that we enjoyed his pork, and was happy to commend us further for picking out his bread pudding.

Heading up the semi-pedestrianised, we find the second Cancer Research and British Heart Foundation, the former yielding up a brand new Peter Storm top, perfect for my cycle commute, only a fiver to you sir. Further still and we reach the Garden House Hospice, a cavernous place stuffed with furniture of all varieties and tons of homeware. We left with egg cups, and all manner of terracotta thingummies.

You can continue on to the Sue Ryder further up (we didn’t…), or dogleg back down Church Road to find Save The Children (on two levels, men’s clothes and books upstairs, offering up Soren Kierkegaard‘s Purity Of Heart on this occasion) and Oxfam, bringing you back to the square. So, totting up the number I very nearly run out of fingers: ten charity shops, all good, a variety of lovely little cafes, beautiful church and square, excellent market, Hitchin has everything going for it.

Find: Hitchin on Google Maps
Transport: Hitchin stati0n is on the Great Northern Line, and although it’s a bit out of the way, offers a half-hour connection to London.
Consume with: definitely some sort of roast pork, from A Touch Of Garnish 
Visit: Hitchin Museum, and Physic Garden
Overall rating: five complete dinner services

EDIT: on return to Hitchin, the Sally Army Care & Share was open – definitely good for a poke, this rambling shop is located nearly opposite the pork sandwich shop (yes we went back…) and is good for really cheap clothes (if you can find something you like), random objets, and a variety of kitsch kitchen machines including smoothie maker, teasmaid and best of all, chicken rotisserie for only £7.