Six days into British Summertime, and at last the words of this German folk song are believable – soon it will be spring. Four of us made our way east along the Alban Way in sunshine, right through to Hatfield. The bridge over Wellfield Road was tempting – only a mile further to Stanborough - but our way lay along Wellfield Road itself, and we were delighted to find that the footway has been most effectively converted to shared use, with small gabions on the roadward side to enable path-widening. That took us fairly easily to White Lion Square and thus Hatfield Farmers’ Market.
We enjoyed browsing the plants and produce. The primulas were very eye-catching.
In spite of the sun, we were keen to find coffee and cake indoors, and duly invaded the relocated Simmons. We totally flummoxed the young trainee, who found four fabulous women all wanting different drinks and pastries on the one order a tad overwhelming. A request for toast was the last straw for the poor lad; his supervisor came to the rescue.
We were in like disarray ourselves however when we stopped on our way back to assist a young couple with a flat tyre. The tyre was one of those very tight fitting ones, and we were sufficiently discombobulated by the effort required to get the wretched rubber off the rim that we forgot to check that the thorn we had removed was the only one before we wrestled the tyre back on again. Oh “bother”.
From Ellenbrook we made an architectural diversion down Wilkins Green Lane to enjoy a glimpse of ‘Torilla’. Dating from 1935, this house was designed by F.R.S Yorke, who was one of the first British architects to design in the Modernist style. The Hertfordshire Building Preservation Trust later intervened to prevent its demolition. We also enjoyed the much larger and grander and older Great Nast Hyde House. What you see from the lane is actually the back of the house; the proper front entrance to the house is up a drive from St Albans Road.
We rejoined the Alban Way at Smallford and carried on westward and back to Morrisons. It might appear from the sign that by the time we got back we would have ridden at least 12 miles, but bear in mind that we had started from Fleetville, not central St Albans. Although, even allowing for the distance vagaries on Alban Way signs, we did on this occasion go further than the nominal five.
