To Martock, to Martock ...

My mission today - which I did decide to accept - was to drive my parents and Auntie Mollie to see my Uncle Noel who lives in Shepton Beauchamp in deepest, darkest Somerset (combined ages 342).  

A strange thing happens to my car when my relatives get in it.  It is fuelled by the hot air emanating from my mother and her sister in the back, whilst my dad takes it upon himself to tell me where I should park while he pops into Lidl to buy his morning paper and which lane I should be in all the way down the motorway.  No matter, we all got there without me throttling any of them and in time for coffee before we went to the pub in nearby Dinnington, called Dinnington Docks (although it's a good fifteen miles from the coast) and serving Burrow Hill cider, whoop whoop.

I managed to peel my charges away in time for a quick dash to Martock to look at the mediaeval Church of All Saints.  I'd been informed that it was even more stunning than my very favourite Mucheleny Church with the norty angels painted all over the roof.  It wasn't, but I was still glad that I got to see it. 

A few highlights, then ...

The hearse

Big Dragon is watching you

The organ (formerly in Wells Cathedral)









Auntie Mollie has gone for gold

My father wearing a jumper in 25˚C+ heat

  My mother

The coloured glass in the church was smashed during the civil war when troops and horses were billeted in the church.  The statues in the clerestory niches were also destroyed.  There are paintings of saints there now.  

The 15th century font

Detail of the oak Angel Roof completed in 1513  

The yew walk in the churchyard

The 15th century tower