Worcestershire village, Broadway, Cotswolds, England 1962. Photo / Peter Cape
Growing up in New Zealand through the 1960s and having a father involved in broadcasting probably coloured my screen viewing habits and lifestyle indelibly.
In 1962 my family was travelling the British Isles in pursuit of the arts, history and culture of the British people. My father trained with the BBC and had a brief from the Imperial Relations Trust to report back on his observations.
Television was in its ascendancy and the British influence was all around me with the 60s seeing the start of several notable television series such as Z Cars, Coronation Street and Steptoe and Son. I was a big fan of The Avengers with Emma Peel and Steed.
The Bentley in the foreground could have come off that set. The yellow car, centre frame, is probably a circa 1960 Ford Anglia. Its ilk starred in Harry Potter. We were driving the 1948 version.
Starring in The Italian Job and Goodbye Pork Pie the Mini Cooper at right is now a classic collectible (Do I sound like a nerdy train spotter? I've really got get out more often). But this was England in 1962, with Carnaby Street and The Beatles rising in the public's eye, and the photo was taken in the Worcestershire village of Broadway in the Cotswolds.
I'm drawing on my father's diary entries to tell the story as it unfolds.
Lights, camera, action ...
August 5, 1962 Sunday
Washed children's hair and off at 11. Ph. (Photographed) Norman wall painting of S. (Saint) Cecelia in old Hailes parish church. On through to ridged fields of Worcestershire to Broadway — see lovely one-of-a-piece village in Cotswold stone. (Ridged fields done by hand to increase land surface within restricted perimeter).
On to Evesham: disappointing, so back to Broadway for photographs, then towards Worcester. Took wrong turning onto Birmingham — Bristol M4 motorway, and couldn't get off until an RAC (Royal Automobile Club) man led us out: an extra 20 miles. (You can't turn on M roads). Worcester Cathedral not as good as others. Saw King John's thumb bone and his grave. Camped in lovely roadside spot out of Droitwich.
August 6, 1962 Monday
Written by guttering candlelight (candle stolen from house where we were allowed to use toilet of Hailes Abbey) in a Hereford granary on the wettest and coldest August Bank Holiday for 100 years.
Morning was lovely. Went down to Avon side pottery (pottery, ironworks and glass engravers) and met Geoffrey Whiting: talked pots and bought pots — he is an ex-architect and makes pots with lovely precision.
On to Stonebridge, through Midlands countryside. Ridiculous English pubkeepers won't accept our cider flagon because the label's not the same as theirs (the bottle is!). So we remove the label. At Stonebridge, Swencroft shop. Earthenware pottery, selling high quality craft goods. Buy carved wooden toys, a wicker rattle, and a lump of lead crystal — saw corn dollies, and was told where to find the only man in England who remembered how to make them.
Went to out-of-the-way place in rain to see Bradley Davies. Delightful old man — gave us a corn dolly — plaited corn (wheat). On in rain and cold to Hereford. Asked permission to camp outside house, and were given granary. Pitched tent inside granary, against draught. Bit of candle gutters out ...
August 7, 1962 Tuesday
Quite a good night but a late getaway. Into Hereford. Saw (photographed) Old Butchers hall, shopped, beer in pub (good beer, West Country) and out of Hereford in exactly the wrong direction. Back through one way streets, lost again and finally on the Ross-on-Wye Rd. Wye Valley lovely (photos): Ross-On-Wye hand weaving anything but. Not craftsman, designs terrible.
Along the road to Monmouth, photographed gatehouse to Goodrich castle. Sold sour milk, found Raglan. Visit (and photographed) Raglan Castle, then out to Yarmouth to see Brocklehurst Weavers (by hand) of silk for vestments, lovely work, and very nice people. Gave us tea. Camped at nine on road to Tintern Abbey.
Thought on river Wye — song. "Gin a boatie meet a boatie coming down the Wye?
■ ■ ■ ■
We camped as usual and visited the picturesque ruins of Tintern Abbey. I still have that lump of lead crystal on display and Bradley Davies's corn dolly hanging on my wall.
In these days of political unrest and food deprivation perhaps we need to remember spiritual and moral values.
Corn dollies were crafted to allow a place for the spirit of the crop to dwell when the crop had been harvested. Resorting to that pagan belief may be unnecessary but it is prudent to recognise that we are part of an interconnected world.
I'm reminded of Shakespeare's observation in As You Like It. "All the world's a stage and all the men and women actors." It seems currently fashionable, in politics, to cry "fraud" whenever one disapproves of a political decision.
In America, Russia, and now Myanmar, democracy is being threatened by authoritarianism. Rat packs, claiming pure intentions reveal their true colours as dirty rats. How can one trust any slippery politician?
Seasons change, tides flow, cycles happen. Perhaps we do need a corn dolly on our wall to remind us that man cannot live by bread alone ... or guns for that matter.
Shakespeare is right. The whole world is indeed a stage, and the actors need to play their parts with integrity and professionalism and not wreck the set or burn down the theatre, or insult the audience in their performance. But maybe they don't care. Who wants to watch a lousy stage show? I'm not paying for my seat. I'd rather play with my cats or go to the beach.
But maybe that's not a solution. I recall Neville Shute's novel and the film out of 1959 directed by Stanley Kramer. Set in Australia after a 1964 global nuclear war, On the Beach describes humanity being wiped out by a cloud of radioactive fallout from World War III and the ensuing deafening silence.
No. It's better to keep questions, discussion and journalism alive before we are wiped out. Even if nobody listens at least I've done my bit.