Toxic Bedlam and Misadventure CHAPTER 5
Ayot St. Lawrence is a small, quaint, stunning, picturesque village located in the beautiful Hertfordshire countryside, and is where the famous Irish playwright, wit and raconteur, George Bernard Shaw finally ended his days. I must confess, until commencing work for my new employer, I had never heard of the small hamlet, but that was one of the benefits derived in working for a national hazardous waste company with customers scattered liberally throughout the UK. The job presented me with the opportunity of travelling around Britain, learning about the various regions and best of all, paid for, courtesy of my employer.
Bernard Evans and I were performing one of our regular chemical clean up operations at Smith Kline Beecham (SKB) at a particular research establishment located in Frythe on the outskirts of Welwyn Garden City. This well-known giant British pharmaceutical company had wonderful research facilities all over the countryside, usually lodged in old country houses with wonderful attractive, tranquil scenery. The site at Frythe was no different with wonderful scenery and forests surrounding the ancient, venerable buildings. The facility an almost serene place in which to work and perform microbiological research, a veritable extension to the ancient college spires of Oxford and Cambridge. The canteen facilities at all the SKB sites were wonderful, with kitchens supplying an extensive selection of amazing culinary delights providing menus catering to all tastes. SKB certainly knew how to look after its staff. I never minded going to these facilities with its pleasant surroundings and wonderful canteens. In fact I looked forward immensely to working at Frythe, or any SKB facility for that matter. Turning up periodically, segregating waste chemicals for packaging and transportation for incineration at our plant.
This particular week, we were unable to obtain rooms at our usual place in Codicote for the duration of the project, only able to stay there for the first night. It was located just a few miles up the road from the facility and extremely convenient place to stay. Unfortunately, there appeared to
be some large seminar going on and hotel rooms were at a premium. Our customer contact at SKB gave us a list of hotels and B&B’s in the region. After phoning the hotels, most of them without success, I must add, we eventually contacted the Brockett Arms in Ayot St. Lawrence. The receptionist informing us they had only two rooms available. Due to the problems experienced in obtaining accommodation, we reserved the rooms then and there, having not the faintest inkling of where the small pub and village were actually situated. We left work early to search for the Brockett arms for the first night of our stay. Our contact at SKB gave us rough directions of how to get to Ayot St. Lawrence, plus we had a large AA map so Bernard and I set off fairly confident we would easily locate the small village without too much difficulty. We had not foreseen the fact the local mischievous kids took great delight in turning the signposts pointing them in the wrong direction. By following the signposts for Ayot St. Lawrence, the unsuspecting traveller only ended up in the same place, having traversed in a complete circle. The roads on the map did not seem to correspond with the directions on the signposts. After the third time arriving at the same crossroads with the post indicating the direction we wanted. Both Bernard and I turned the post the directions then appeared to corroborate with the nearby hamlets on the map.
By now we had travelled around for well over an hour and dusk was rapidly approaching. It was the latter part of the year and the sun set early. After re-aligning the signposts on the way finally made our way to Ayot St Lawrence and the beckoning Brockett arms. .
With some relief and reaching the end of our magical mystery tour of the Hertfordshire country side, we eventually drove into the small village quickly discovering the Brockett arms, the main hosteliery in the village. It was a beautiful, quaint old Hotel, centuries, old exuding wonderful character and charm. I could not even guess at when it was built. It must have probably existed around or just after the Tudor period. There was however a modern annex which contained extra rooms, and which did detract from the character of the main building somewhat. Bernard and I were
relieved at finally locating the hotel and too tired to consider the arguments of spoiling old architecture by erecting modern buildings in close proximity.
We entered the bar, which doubled as the reception area. To be greeted by Toby, the Manager, an eccentric middle aged character who spoke with a plum in his mouth and who seemed to lack any common sense whatsoever and a bit of a hooray Henry. Notwithstanding all his eccentricities Toby was a genuinely nice person. The bar was wonderful with a roaring warm log fire a requirement as it was late autumn with the evenings getting cold. Substantial low oak beams supported the ceiling, all enhancing the ambience of the Hotel. The Inn certainly had character and charm. I personally find them convivial places in which to spend a few evenings, far friendlier than the modern, artificial travel lodges or large hotels. I much preferred staying in ye olde country pub.
After signing the register Toby showed us to our rooms above the bar. The staircase was an old small, winding timber, spiral stairway. The rooms had low, ancient oak beams and the doors instead of locks, had latches, all adding to the rich atmosphere emanating from the ancient building.
That evening we had a few drinks in the bar and a very nice meal and retired early, it had been a long day. The next morning eventually we had breakfast at 8 o’clock having requested it for 7:30. But then, that was Toby for you.
We almost completed our work on that second day of the project. It would only require a few hours on the third day and our work would be completed. We could then drive home during the afternoon after eating lunch. Having worked hard all that second day with everything nearly completed, Bernard and I left early at 4:15. This time we knew our way to the hotel so it did not take us long to get there. Upon entering the bar, Bernard suggested we have a drink before going to our rooms to rest, shower and change before finally consuming a substantial meal. Upon entering the bar, we both observed one solitary customer comfortably perched on a stool in front of the bar. We both stood at the bar with no sign of any service, talking as loudly as possible to try and