We scarfed down an excellent pub breakfast, then walked around town – Saffron Walden – to put in time before our timed visit to an English Heritage property. Storekeepers were setting up for the day, we enjoyed watching an old-school butcher carrying his wares. (See photo.) It was sunny and brisk, and the wind was strong enough that when we arrived at that English Heritage Property – Audley End House and Garden – they had actually closed the forested part of the estate for fear of limbs falling.
Audley End House and Gardens – highly recommended. Grounds designed by Capability Brown. Outrageously pruned hedges. (See photo.) A whole hall filled with taxidermied animals which were, apparently, a fad for the Victorians following Darwin’s books on evolution. As one of the NT guides said, “The Victorians loved to stuff things.”
We left Audley End and cycled on, encountered our first dreaded “DIVERSION” sign, ignored it, and, luckily for us it was a false alarm. We were a little early for our B’n’B check-in at “The Mill” in Long Melford – tsk – so we toured Melford Hall, right next door. After Audley End, it was …. “disappointing” isn’t the right word, but it underwhelmed, for sure. We headed back to check in to The Mill. N.B. The British poetEdmund Blunden had lived in this property.
You guys, our room featured the biggest bathtub we’ve ever seen. (See photo, below.) It cost, apparently, six thousand pounds. Not being bathers, we passed on filling that thing. Besides, who has 20 minutes to fill a bathtub? We opted, instead, for a fab Indian meal down the street, and crawled into bed.
53 kilometres.
Thursday morning, the last day of April, after a spectacular breakfast by “Paul” at The Mill (pancakes!!! smoked salmon!!!) we rode 20 km to Ickworth, a National Trust property. We didn’t even have high hopes for this waypoint, it was more on the “we really should stop here, it’s on the way” list. Yowzer. We left the bikes and panniers for safekeeping with a representative for the ICE TRIKES company (our bikes’ manufacturers) who was running a bike hire shop on the estate.
The property was built to be a museum to house collectibles assembled in Rome that were actually plundered in the Napoleonic wars (and so then, replaced by the collector, because money was no object). Ickworth was mindblowing. One key point that makes it unique is that when the family turned over the major portion of the estate to the National Trust, they included everything in the house. The contents were intact. The silver collection is formidable.
Also worth mentioning is that as was often the case, a female’s marrying into the family meant a well-needed infusion of cash. Quite often it was American heiresses bringing their huge fortunes to failing royals’ estates, but in the case of Ickworth it was Theodora, the 4th Marchioness of Bristol. It was her passion (along with her husband’s), as well as her estate, that enabled the estate to prosper before it was passed to the National Trust in 1956. Her money paid for the settling of debts, and major improvements to the house, including new servants’ quarts, electric lighting, the latest in Edwardian plumbing and alterations to the great show rooms in the Rotunda.
Theordora was also greatly concerned with the contents of the house. She catalogued, cleaned and rehung the picture collection, as well as having the book collection listed and rebound, (!!!), and the furniture and objets d’art restored. It’s largely due to this woman’s efforts that this collection still exists. (And, of course, the arrangement with the National Trust to cover death duties, followed the deaths of the subsequent philandering Marquesses.)
We had a scone in the cafe, picked up the bikes and panniers from the ICE representative in the bike hire area, then rode to Bury St. Edmund. We checked into the beautiful Angel Hotel, dominating the square opposite the medieval Abbey ruins and the Bury St Edmunds Cathedral. We ditched our bags, went for a big walk, shared a pint at the headquarters of the famous Greene King Brewery, caught Evensong (an all girls choir children’s chorus with mixed adults, featuring an absolutely astounding 11 year old girl), ate at a great Mediterranean restaurant, and fell into bed.
28 kilometres, 11,000 steps.
