Today we went to Old Warden Park near Biggleswade, the home of the Shuttleworth Trust. It has, in the normal way of things, an historic garden, a collection of vintage aeroplanes and a collection of birds of prey, and in the middle weekend of September it hosts the Bedfordshire Steam Country Fayre. Old Warden Park belonged to the Shuttleworth family, and was set up as a charitable trust to support education in aviation and farming, in memory of the heir to the estate who was killed in a flying accident in WWII.
I didn't know this when I originally suggested a visit, since the only part of it I knew of was the Swiss Garden, which features in garden visiting guides and is a Historic Garden Grade II*. It was laid out in the 1820s in a picturesque style for the owner's Swiss mistress, with a Swiss cottage, canals crossed by ornate iron bridges (made by Emma Hamilton's uncle), and wiggly paths. It was added to by the Victorians, who built a raised terrace and a Pulhamite rockery, and it possesses a vast number of urns, cast iron seats, garden shelters and other eyecatchers. It was restored in the 1980s by Bedfordshire County Council who now own it (or at least did when my 2006 Good Gardens Guide went to press). It is a charming garden, not necessarily a plantsman's paradise, though we saw a very nice Hydrangea villosa, but atmospheric and historically interesting, and the Swiss cottage is quite something. Hexagonal, thatched, covered walkway running most of the way round the outside supported by rustic pillars, fir cone decoration on the ceiling. It was locked today, and looking at the rows of gold chairs (like the ones that large hotels use for corporate dinners) and other furnishings I should say it is licenced for weddings.
We walked through the aircraft collection, really little more than a recce to see what was there. I am afraid of flying, can tell you what the Venturi effect is without believing it in any intuitive sense, and know practically nothing about aeroplanes, so my appreciation is limited to odd observations like thinking how much a German glider looked like an Alexander Calder mobile. The Systems Administrator loves aviation history and does know about aeroplanes, and said that this was the best collection of small and early planes in the country. Most of them are in working order, and the collection does flying displays though not today, so the S.A. will be back. As well as the aeroplanes there are great quantities of aviation stuff, propellors (which reminded me of that David Hemmings film Blowup), photos, obituaries of great aviators, a menu of an aviation dinner, a model of the Wright brother's homemade wind tunnel, clothing. There was a leather aviator's coat (as distinct from bomber jacket) complete with diagonal map pocket on the chest, which I reckon you could copy and put straight into the TOAST catalogue.
We didn't actually go into the birds of prey centre, as while they are interesting creatures I saw lots at the Tendring Show in July, and the big draw this weekend was the Bedfordshire Steam Country Fayre, or rather the steam bit. The steam engines were really, really good. We saw a demonstration of steam ploughing (engines at each end of the field pull the plough on wires between them, the plough being double ended so you don't even have to turn it round to go back the other way. Faster than horse ploughing, apparently). We saw a steam thresher in action (which reminded me of a very vulgar folk song, but we won't go into that now) and several steam saw mills, ranging from a large engine powering a saw that was sectioning tree trunks to a small engine that was driving a workshop sized saw bench. We saw huge traction engines designed to pull heavy loads, little ones designed for light industrial or general agricultural use, and scale models. We saw steam rollers. Then there were steam lorries, and steam generators providing the power for a fairground and a competing myriad of fairground organs. I adore fairground organs. Many were originally from Belgium and Holland, but there was one 86 pipe one that had been built by somebody who wanted an 86 pipe organ and couldn't afford to buy an original, so decided the solution was to build one. The fact that he knew nothing about organ building was what the S.A. and I would call a bourgeois technical detail. It took him twelve years, and he had very understanding neighbours, apparently.
The real glory of all these steam vehicles was that they moved about. I had assumed that they would be in steam, but standing on their pitches, occassionally summoned forward by marshalls in controlled groups to parade around a ring. They did parade around a ring, but they also wandered about, in among the visitors, with the odd hoot or slowing down if a pedestrian seemed not to have noticed them, and good natured negotiations when several arrived at a junction simultaneously. Some had small children riding in the cabs, or on the backs of the lorries. In these days of Health and Safety it seemed incredible, but nobody got run over while we were there. People, aware that they must take care and trusted not to behave like idiots, do seem to be capable of behaving sensibly. Who'd have thought it?
There were lots of dogs, who seemed to enjoy the steam engines, and all sorts of other vintage things that had got in on the act. Motorbikes, vintage caravans, old gardening tools, military vehicles. I am rather regretful that I have somehow missed seeing a collection of historic jelly moulds. The Country bit of the Fayre (dreadful word but that's what they called it) was generally rather ramshackle, and we limited ourselves to a pint and a pasty. There were enough loos, and we didn't have to queue getting in or out. The princely cost of admission to all these delights was £10 each, which left us scratching our heads given that entry to the permanent attractions without the steam rally is normally £12. I consider that an absolute bargain. Next year's Fayre runs from the 14th to 16th September, and I suspect we may not go in 2012 (it clashes with a milestone birthday and something a little more glamorous than a trip to Biggleswade might be called for) but it is a brilliant event. My only complaint is that I have got soot on my sunhat.
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