Warborough

On a cold Sunday in October we were off to discover any signs of what would remain from the Wellers that started up in Warborough over 500 years ago. It is quite a hard place to get too, first the train to Oxford, then a taxi to literally the middle of nowhere.

We had high hopes and expectations I think, but this began to dwindle as we pulled up to The Cricketers pub and it was shut down, boarded up and waiting to be sold. As soon as we stepped out of the car, we noticed that the air had a very strong horse manure scent to it, and the smell seemed to hang around the entire area.

The Cricketers long innings has ended.

We found the local shop without any difficulty, and the local Church. As there was a service in session we didn’t go in, but instead walked around the grave stones hoping to spot the elusive ancestors names. We didn’t spot any, and the “oldest” grave stones were from the 1800’s.

With soaking wet shoes and slightly dampened spirits, Emma was sure that there was more to this town, and we just couldn’t find it. So it was back to the local shop and she asked the shop keeper, unfortunately he was an Indian who was new to the town and couldn’t help. We walked along the road past some really nice houses and some quaint features, until the footpath stopped and then we walked back again, not much to see there.

Next, it was a stroll to the green where some locals were playing football. There were some really old thatched cottages around and the only pub left in Warborough, the Six Bells.

We went in for lunch, and convinced the bartender that we could eat lunch and be out of his hair in an hour and a half, as he was booked up for the rest of the afternoon. We had the Sunday roast and one risotto, and sampled some of the local brew - Brakspear. Do not try this at home.

mmmmm Brakspear. Its like a spear to the stomach!

We left the cute little pub full and feeling a little sick from the beer. Now James convinced us that all the Weller descendents are buried in Benson, the next town over, and the GPS told us that it was only a 30 min walk away. So we trooped off, walking along the side of the state highway equivalent, feeling a bit silly. We walked for what seemed like forever, until we saw signs of civilisation - a BP and a McDonalds.

We carried on and found Benson, which was bigger than Warborough but only just. By this stage we were just so keen to find anything that related to the Wellers after all this time, so we just kind of wandered. Then we started to worry about getting back to Oxford in time for our train, so Emma superbly got the right bus information out of someone and we found the bus stop, and passed the Benson local church as well (a flying visit through the grave stones did not reveal any Wellers either).

So feeling a bit dejected we got on the bus back to Oxford. A sample of the locals on the bus was nicely summed up by the elderly gentleman sitting opposite Hamish dressed in wacky old man clothes, no teeth and carrying his TV remote like a security blanket.

We got back to Oxford and a had a quick look around, a cup of tea at Oxford Castle and then it was back on the train to London.

Interesting fact #1: Despite JEM's new cameras girth they can still manage a self portrait...just!