England,  History,  Photography,  Travel Blog

Nostalgia Trip #2: Warwick

June 8, 2021 /

Leaving Brownsover we avoid motorways and take the short countryside route via the appealing Dunchurch to our next destination, Warwick. So many visitors to England make Stratford-on-Avon a high priority; we have to say it’s their loss if they miss out on visiting the splendid nearby town of Warwick. Steeped in history, packed with gorgeous historical buildings, straddling the River Avon and boasting one of England’s most magnificent castles, any visitor would surely be thoroughly enchanted by Warwick.

Warwick Castle

So why are we here on our nostalgia trip? My (Phil) parents moved here in 1979 and lived in the town for their remaining years, with Dad dying three years ago in June 2018. My Dad was extremely entertaining company and was a highly amusing character, completely capable of holding court in a pub he was visiting for the first time. I remember taking a friend to meet Dad (Stanley) for a beer on our way to a football match; on returning to the car the friend grinned and said, “so how was it, growing up with a flamboyant father?”, which probably says everything.

Lord Leycester Hospital

I have many, many wonderful memories of great nights out, at least a book’s worth of funny Stanley stories and a huge number of fond memories of many beers together. You could never describe Stanley as a mentor or a role model, he was too independent for that, but my memories of times with my Dad definitely fall into best friend/best drinking buddy/funniest nights/cameraderie territory. He was, as I say, terrific company.

And so, apart from being here to see Warwick as tourists, something we didn’t really do when making family visits, we are here today to tour those pubs where I spent many great nights and from which I have so many great memories. It is, if you like, a pub crawl in Stanley’s honour.

Sadly, we quickly discover today that the pub with probably the greatest collection of memories, the Zetland Arms, has permanently closed since our last visit here, another sad indicator of the parlous state of the licensed trade and actually a great loss to the town. This morning though the town basks in glorious sunshine, its market square thronged with people at outdoor tables and buying produce from the market stalls, its huge numbers of ancient buildings looking even more splendid on this perfect day. It’s just one of those places which keeps making you gasp, it really is exceptionally lovely.

Warwick Market Place

Having pre-booked our entrance tickets we spend a couple of hours within the terrific confines of Warwick Castle, exploring its grounds and its beautifully preserved interior, absorbing its history and following the walkway which scales its towers and ambles along the top of its ramparts. The view across Warwickshire from the highest points is fabulous, green fields rolling into the distance as the serene River Avon flows beneath. The castle tour is well designed and cleverly thought out and, with families as its clear target market, there are many child friendly moments, none of which detract in the slightest from its overall appeal.

Warwick Castle

Beyond the castle, the sumptuous ancient buildings and cobbled walkways of Warwick combine beautifully with its green spaces, the spires of its many churches reaching up towards the day’s azure skies. The town truly basks in its splendour.

Warwick Castle

The sun beats down, but our intended pub crawl doesn’t go quite to plan: not only is The Zetland closed, but the Rose & Crown in the market square is fully booked, the COVID way. But we enjoy beers at The Old Fourpenny Shop, which is our perfect overnight base for this visit, and The Bowling Green, both old haunts of Stanley, before we go a little off piste for beers at other pubs in the market square, all followed by the real bonus of a terrific Lebanese meal in Jury Street. By the end of it, we think we’ve done justice to Stanley’s memory. 

I miss him, of course, but his time was done. Stanley was a lover of life, and once his age meant he could love life no longer, he wanted his life to end. And so he went, leaving me and lots of others with great memories. Today has been lovely, wandering the streets of the town he loved, drinking beer in the sun and recounting some favourite stories of my time with my “flamboyant father”. 

Gone. But never forgotten. 

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