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| More flattering of Edward than of me, I fear |
Day 123
No running, just pedalling hotly up and down the hills of Malvern Wells, where Edward Elgar listened to the tunes in his head while pedalling sedately on his beloved Royal Sunbeam bicycle. We based ourselves in a creaky little inn in Bewdley, and from there freewheeled down and toiled up the dales and hills of Worcestershire and Herefordshire. We visited Elgar's birthplace and death place, his museum and his grave. His lofty Sunbeam was not built to go up hills, so he, in his tweeds, would have walked it up the steep inclines that I struggled up this day, watching as my husband crested them,then freewheeled down at breakneck speed, arms outstretched. I am namby pamby about going down the hills too. No natural cyclist, I.
Our day was fuelled by multiplecakes, flapjacks and a highly memorable ice cream at Sally's PLace, just outside Malvern Wells.
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