Welcome to the Rudloe and environs website.
Here you will find news, articles and photos of an area that straddles the Cotswold Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty in north-west Wiltshire.
Contributions in the form of articles or photos are welcome. Even those with completely contrary views to mine!
Thanks to the website builder 1&1 and Rob Brown for the original idea.
Rudloescene now, in January 2014, has a sister, academic rather than anarchic, website about Box history here: http://www.boxpeopleandplaces.co.uk/
It contains thoroughly professional, well-researched articles about Box and its people.
Contact rudloescene through the 'Contact' page.
And so we go on, still 'in the time of Covid'. This walk, on Sunday 12th July 2020, was (as with all the others) unplanned and we ended up at, or close to, Sheldon Corner on the western fringes of Chippenham. The outward route took in No Notion, Collett's Bottom, Weavern Lane, Biddestone and Chippenham Lane (or Biddestone Lane as it is known at the other end) then from Sheldon Corner(ish), we returned via the unnamed road (as far as I know) which ends up at the A4 east of the Cross Keys (passing Starwell and Stowell Farm). Then the boring bit, along the A4 and the Bradford Road to chez nous. The title pictures show: The Larches woodland twixt No Notion and Collett's Bottom, white bryony in a Weavern Lane hedgerow and the western entrance to Biddestone.
Against my better judgement I stopped at the White Horse for a much-needed drink (a bottle of zero alcohol beer). Her majesty and myself had 'dined' here about eighteen months ago and were 'displeased' to be served by an ageing waitress with a stinking cold. That same woman was here today (presumably permanent staff) putting out the umbrellas, so I asked about the Covid procedure which turned out to be in the front door and out the side door with two lots of hand sanitizer on the way in (I'm extremely dubious about hand sanitizer - how many people have pressed the pump? - the sanitizer bottles need to be sanitized after each use). Anyway, having enlightened me she followed me into the pub and promptly sneezed. Bloody marvellous (I thought).
My chipaholic tendencies overcame me so the beer was accompanied by a portion of chips. I retired to an al fresco table on the roadside. A group of three was sat at the (suitably distanced)
adjacent table whereupon the waitress joined them, took out a packet of fags, coughed her guts up (apologies for the vernacular) twice then lit a fag. A worker arrived and started some kind of
electronic machinery in the pub. Bloody marvellous (I thought) - why do this work on a Sunday lunchtime with a pub full (relatively) of customers? The chips arrived (see below) and were good but the
packeted salt was damp and came out in lumps.
A continental experience it was not - but all will be well when Britain's potential is released (Boris) following Brexit. What an absolute bloody (excuse the French) joke this is.