Jul 292023
 


First published in: The Times Click here to view a map for this walk in a new window
hot weather cornfield country near Bramdean 1 two tracks cross near Bramdean hot weather cornfield country near Bramdean 2 hot weather cornfield country near Bramdean 3 What the blue blistering blazes is this?? shady green lane near Bramdean Fox Inn, Bramdean hot weather cornfield country near Bramdean 4

The wide grassy ride through the beeches of Cheriton Wood was lined with silverweed, royal blue viper’s bugloss and acid yellow wild parsnip. All was quiet and peaceful on this summer morning in the Hampshire Weald. If the shadows under the coppiced hazel seemed a little black and cold, that was down to the account I’d been reading of a desperate Civil War battle that took place in March 1644, in and around this wood.

Parliamentarian forces under Sir William Waller were in possession of Cheriton Wood. The Royalists under Sir Ralph Horton pushed them out, and were on the brink of victory. But an impetuous Royalist officer, Sir Henry Bard, had a sudden rush of blood to the head and launched his foot soldiers against much stronger and better armoured Parliamentarian cavalry, the ‘London Lobsters’. The Royalists were slaughtered, the survivors put to ignominious flight. It was the beginning of the end for King Charles I and the Royalist cause.

We left the wood and its ominous aura, and went westward in a rolling landscape of flinty soil, through fields of barley as yet unharvested. The country to the south was a bowl of pale gold cornfields where the foliage of hedges and thickets had assumed that tar-black hue so characteristic of hot dry summers.

The hunched, intent form of a whippet suddenly flashed by. It went streaking at full speed after a leaping roe deer till whistles and curses from its owner called it to heel.

This Wealden landscape is crisscrossed with ancient green lanes, and we followed one down past Hinton Ampner and its splendid Georgian house and gardens. In the church a monument to Katherine Stewkeley (d. 1679) lamented her fate of being misunderstood by ‘the Vulgar’. Poor Katherine was a target of ‘the Ignorance of the meanest of women’, said the inscription. How one would love to know that back story!

Another tangle of green lanes led us on to Bramdean and the friendly Fox Inn. Then along the homeward path through acres of dried-up beans adorned with the pink-and-white parasols of bindweed, and wheatfields where a huge green Klaas harvester went whining and winking along the rows, veiled in dust and beeping like a Martian.

How hard is it? 6½ miles; easy; field paths and green lanes

Start: Bramdean Common, near Petersfield, SO24 0JL approx. (OS ref SU 626294)

Getting there: Bus 67 (Petersfield-Winchester) to Fox Inn, Bramdean
Bramdean Common is 1½ miles north of Bramdean (A272), up Wood Lane.

Walk (OS Explorer OL32): Follow gravel bridleway (‘Restricted Byway’) west into Old Park Wood (623294). Continue for 900m to cross track into Cheriton Wood (615297). Keep same direction for 1 mile to cross lane (601290); on along field edge to Broad Lane green lane (595287). Left to cross A272 (597280). Up lane (‘Hinton Ampner’); at bend, ahead (597276) past gates. Opposite church, left through gate; right (fingerpost, ‘Wayfarers Walk’). In 400m at double kissing gate, left (597272) along lane. Cross road (598270) and on. At road, ahead (606267); just past New Pond Cottages, left up field edge. In 800m through hedge (608275). Cross field to hedge; right (609276). Through next hedge (611276, stile). Half left across field; follow footpath to lane; left to A272 at Fox Inn. Left; just past Littledean, right (612280, fingerpost) up walled lane. On through fields, passing Marriners Farm (619296). In another 600m, stile into Old Park Wood (622295); right to Bramdean Common.

Lunch: Fox Inn, Bramdean SO24 0LP (01962-771363, thefoxbramdean.co.uk)

Accommodation: Thomas Lord Inn, West Meon GU32 1LN (01730-829244, thethomaslord.co.uk)

Info: Petersfield TIC (01730-264182); nationaltrust.org.uk/hinton-ampner

 Posted by at 04:29
Jul 152023
 


First published in: The Times Click here to view a map for this walk in a new window
in Buddington Bottom looking seaward from the track to Buddington Bottom in Buddington Bottom 2 Chanctonbury Chanctonbury Ring looking across wild parsnip to Cissbury Ring and the sea Chanctonbury Ring 2 upland track near Chanctonbury Ring chalk hill blue butterfly view to Cissbury Ring hill fort round-headed rampion

The blackcap that scribbled out its song from an ash tree by the South Downs Way was singing for a perfect summer’s day. I couldn’t believe the profusion of wild flowers and blue butterflies that bordered the ancient ridgeway as it climbed towards the roof of the West Sussex downs.

Wild marjoram, thyme and spearmint scented my fingers. Kidney vetch and knapweed vied for the attention of common and chalkhill blue butterflies that had congregated after a spectacular hatch. Yellow froth of lady’s bedstraw, nail-polish pink of centaury, harebells and hawkbit, St John’s Wort and yellowwort, and the rich blue globular flowerheads of round-headed rampion, the ‘Pride of Sussex’, a nationally scarce flower of this chalk grassland habitat.

The South Downs Way rose as the view opened northwards across a patchwork of pale gold, unharvested cornfields and dark summer woods, south to where the bird’s beak of the Isle of Wight dipped to the sea. Soon another flinty track swung off southwest, a long and gradual descent between fields of wheat and barley, flanked by brilliant yellow sprigs of wild parsnip. Out of the crop fields ahead rose the multiple ramparts of Cissbury Ring, one of the Iron Age hill forts that command this countryside.

Down in the valley bottom I passed the Pest House, a modest cottage of brick and flint with an ominous name. In this lonely place in medieval times stood an isolation house where sufferers from plague, cholera, smallpox and other deadly communicable diseases were banged up to recover or die, one or the other.

A grassy track led up the wooded valley of Buddington Bottom, to reach the South Downs Way. Just west the early Iron Age hill fort of Chanctonbury Ring topped the hill, the circular rampart reinforced with a fine double circle of beech trees. The space under them is as dark as night. This is a place with enormous atmosphere, the world spread out at your feet from the sea to the Sussex Weald.

The Ring was made by the Devil, local stories say, and he will appear to you if you run thrice widdershins around the rampart. There’s a fiendish bargain on offer, of course: a bowl of demonic soup in exchange for your soul. Don’t run round the Ring when you’re feeling hungry, is my advice.

How hard is it? 5½ miles, easy, downland tracks.

Start: Chanctonbury car park, near Washington BN44 3DR (OS ref TQ 125121)

Getting there: Bus 23 (Worthing – Crawley)
Road: At Washington Roundabout on A24 (Worthing-Horsham), take A283. Right down Washington Bostal past Frankland Arms. In ¾ mile, just before A24, sharp left up rough road to car park.

Walk (OS Explorer 121): Uphill on South Downs Way/SDW. In ¾ mile at large grass triangle, right (130117, ‘Restricted Byway’) downhill. In 1 mile at cross-tracks, left (121104, 4-finger post, ‘Wiston Estate Winery’ notice). In ⅔ mile, opposite barns at New Barn, fork left, then immediately right (130100). In 150 m, where track meets lane, fork left through gate (fingerpost, blue arrow/BA); immediately left (BA). In 400m at far corner of vineyard, through gate (133104); on up path through Buddington Bottom valley for 1 mile. At top of climb, left on SDW (145113) past Chanctonbury Ring (139120). In 500m at cattle grid, fork right (134119, gate, BA) on path past dewpond. In 500m descend to gate (129121); down through old chalk pit (slippery!) to rejoin SDW (125121); right to car park.

Lunch: Frankland Arms, Washington RH20 4AL (01903-891405, thefranklandarms.com)

Accommodation: Village House Coaching Inn, Findon BN14 0TE (01903-873350, villagehousefindon.co.uk)

Info: westsussex.info

 Posted by at 01:43
Jul 082023
 


First published in: The Times Click here to view a map for this walk in a new window
gravel pit lake on the River Trent near Anchor Church meadows along River Trent near Ingleby 4 meadows along River Trent near Ingleby 3 meadows along River Trent near Ingleby 2 meadows along River Trent near Ingleby 1 reedy pond near Seven Spouts Farm Anchor Church track beyond Anchor Church

Peerless, unbroken blue sky and a brisk northeast wind over the Trent Valley. A black bull in a field at Ingleby roared without hope of recompense at the cows lined up along the hedge across the road.

The fields along the flood shelf above the river shimmered with well-grown grasses, among which a holly blue butterfly went skittering. Gold of buttercups and fox-red of wild rocket enhanced the sunlit green of the meadows. A narrow path high over the Trent led down to the shore of a backwater and an extraordinary nest of caves known as the Anchor Church.

The river burrowed out these hollows in its pebbly cliffs, then changed course to leave them high and dry. Floored and roofed with solid sandstone, supported by natural pillars of rock, they made a safe retreat for Eardwulf, deposed King of Northumbria, when he sought refuge here early in the 9th century AD as an anchorite or hermit.

The path ran through buttercup fields and on to Foremarke Hall with its Palladian frontage and pepperpot domes. The house is a school these days. We passed through the grounds, a dusty track leading us on among the pink rhododendron blooms of Heath Wood. Here invading Vikings buried dozens of their comrades slain in battle – the only known Viking cremation site in Britain.

At Seven Spouts Farm beyond, water trickled and fish rose in a reedy pond, making concentric rings on the surface as they gobbled the afternoon hatch of midges. Woodland tracks beyond snaked among the pines, oaks and hazels of Robin Wood.

In the early 19th century Sir Francis Burdett of Foremarke Hall was a Member of Parliament and a noted champion of votes for every man, at a time when such a stance was thought close to treason. It earned him a fine of £40,000, obliging him to fell the fine old oaks of Robin Wood and sell them off for timber. He’d be pleased to see his wood as we saw it this evening, once again a living network of tall trees and flowery undergrowth where a greater whitethroat enchanted us with its mellifluous dribbles of song.

How hard is it? 6 miles; easy; field and woodland paths.

Start: John Thompson Inn, Ingleby, Derby DE73 7HW (OS ref SK 354269)

Getting there: Ingleby is signed from A514 (Derby-Swadlincote)

Walk (OS Explorer 245): Right along road (take care!). In ½ mile round left bend; right (347270, ‘Anchor Church’). In 100m right (stile; yellow arrow/YA; ‘Trent Valley Way’/TVW). Narrow path (take care!) above river passes Anchor Church caves (339272); ahead to cross road (331269; ‘Repton Prep’). On down drive; in 350m left (331266, yellow topped post/YTP, ‘Repton Prep’). Opposite Foremarke Hall, ahead (333266, ‘Kitchen Yard’); follow drive, then track through Heath Wood to cross road (346257). At Seven Spouts Farm, left (348255, YTP, blue arrow/BA); in 300m, right (350257, YTP) across top of pond. In 150m through gate; ahead. In ⅓ mile through gate (351254, BA); left, keeping fence on left; in 250m left (354253, gate, BA); cross field and on into Robin Wood (356253). In ¼ mile at T-junction, right (360252); in 100m, before striped barrier, left (361251) on path at edge of wood. In ⅓ mile at post with YA, right (364254) across footbridge; turn left along outside of woods for ⅔ mile to lane (364263). Left past house and on; in ½ mile, right along road (356264); in 200m, left (356265, TVW) to road (352268); right to inn.

Lunch/Accommodation: John Thompson Inn (01332-862469, johnthompsoninn.com)

Info: visitsouthderbyshire.co.uk

 Posted by at 03:45
Jul 012023
 


First published in: The Times Click here to view a map for this walk in a new window
Pecelli Pecelli Pecelli Pecelli Pecelli Pecelli Pecelli

The Brecon Beacons may have changed their name to Bannau Brycheiniog, ‘the peaks of Brychan’s Kingdom’, but the allure of these sharply profiled Welsh mountain remains, as it always was, irresistible to walkers. The wedge-shaped summit of Pen y fan, tallest of the range, was bristling with tiny figures on this warm summer afternoon. Nearer at hand, the gentle green dome of Pen y Bryn, a north-easterly outlier, held only a scattered flock of Welsh mountain ewes and lambs, very wary of intruders onto their hill.

The church of St Meugan stood among trees in a dip of ground above the village of Pencelli. In the cool, musty interior a wall plaque commemorated John Jones (1875-1942), a much-travelled cleric, ‘priest and missionary to the Natives of Australia’. Outside, the windowless north wall of the tower was used in times past as a goal by Pencelli’s handball players. Other locals would gather round the nearby cockpit, nowadays a bushy dingle, to wager and bicker as their game birds battled it out.

Beyond the church we crossed fields where the hazel hedges sheltered lines of sheep as yet unshorn, all panting in the heat. A green lane led away uphill, a grassy track indented in the ground that steepened past twisted thorn trees.

On the southwest skyline the canted top of Pen y fan stood tall and shadowed, lord of steep ridges and valleys. Below the path a stream was flowing underground, its subterranean trickling a guide for our footsteps as we neared the top of Pen y Bryn. A side turning over trackless ground and we were standing by the summit cairn with a magnificent panorama opening north and east, the long snouts of the Black Mountain ridges descending to green patchwork farmlands.

With views like these, who would ever want to take the downward path? Eventually we did, scooting down across a long grass upland towards the oakwoods of Allt Feigan, where cuckoos were calling. A shady track beside a mossy wall; then a long descent on a dusty red cart road under enormous, bulbous old oaks, looking out across newly mown meadows where the River Usk glinted and curved in extravagant bends like a monster eel caught in a trap.

How hard is it? 6 miles; moderate hill walk; some upland paths faintly marked on ground. Avoid in mist.

Start: Pencelli, near Talybont-on-Usk LD3 7LX (OS ref SO 092250)

Getting there: Signed from Talybont-on-Usk (A40, Crickhowell-Brecon). At entrance to village, left (‘Plas Pencelli’) to parking place by canal bridge.

Walk (OS Explorer OL12): Up lane opposite (‘Llanfeigan Church’). In ½ mile at parking place, fork right for church (087245), left to continue walk. Right at Ty’r Eglwys; steps down to footbridge (086245); up under trees, then across 2 fields (yellow arrows/YAs) to road (083246). Left; in 300m, right up green lane (081244, YAs, yellow-topped post). In ½ mile, where ground levels off (074238 approx), fork left off stony path onto grassy one. Continue climb on clear path for ¾ miles till ground levels again at top of climb (070227 approx). Left over open ground to summit cairn of Pen y Bryn (073227). From here descend ENE for 1½ miles on clear path across open grassland, at first aiming for left edge of forestry, then for angle where coniferous and broadleaved woodlands meet. Left here over stile (094237); follow track beside wall. In 500m fork left downhill (099237), following Usk Valley Walk back to Pencelli.

Lunch: Royal Oak, Pencelli (01874-665396, theroyaloakpencelli.com)

Accommodation: Peterstone Court, Llanhamlach, Brecon LD3 7YB (01874-665387, peterstone-court.com) – comfortable, friendly stopover

Info: visitwales.com

 Posted by at 02:43
Jun 242023
 


First published in: The Times Click here to view a map for this walk in a new window
view from lane near Birthorpe, over the fields to the tower of Folkingham church 1 view from lane near Birthorpe, over the fields to the tower of Folkingham church 2 House of Correction, Folkingham humps and bumps of Sempringham Priory site memorial at Sempringham Priory to Gwenllian, last native Princess of Wales St Andrew's Church, Sempringham 1 castle earthworks, Folkingham guineafowl on the track near Folkingham St Andrew's Church, Sempringham 2 view from lane near Birthorpe, over the fields to the tower of Folkingham church 3 St Andrew's Church, Folkingham

Folkingham lies squarely across the A15 road from Lincoln towards London. In the great days of coaching it was a major stopover. But the coaching trade dwindled and the railways never arrived. Nowadays, this little Lincolnshire village has the air of a pleasant backwater, its mellow old houses of brick and stone marshalled round a very wide and gently sloping market place, with the tower of St Andrew’s Church peeping between their shoulders.

We found a path that left the square and passed beside the green earthworks where Folkingham Castle once stood. Now the castle mound is occupied by a lofty stone gateway, its pediment inscribed ‘House of Correction, AD 1825’.

The great gateway was designed to look massive and heavy, a forbidding portal to overawe the local drunks, thieves and homeless wretches incarcerated here. The regime of oakum picking, stone breaking and the treadmill, the diet of gruel and the separation of wives from husbands and parents from children was reckoned just the thing to teach wrongdoers a thundering good lesson.

Good clear paths led us through the enormous cornfields. The very slightly rolling landscape looked at first to be an unbroken, intensive blanket of wheat, but we found the ditches and surviving hedges brimming with wild flowers – white froths of cow parsley, buttercups, great willowherb and pink bramble blooms, bristly teasel heads and fruity-scented pineapple mayweed.

Beside the path feathery wild grasses made a silky border to draw the fingers through, one of those perennial sensual pleasures of summer walking. A cuckoo called from the sunlit trees of Little Gorse; a yellowhammer chittered in the hedges. A tractor tyre seat at the crest of Beacon Hill offered a perching place and an admonition in stick-on letters: ‘Rest awhile, look around, be thankful.’

The buildings of Sempringham Priory, founded in 1131, lay under mounds of grass, but the old restored church stood high and lonely beyond, its pinnacled tower beckoning across an immense cornfield. The south doorway was spectacularly decorated with strapwork and dogtooth carving.

In a far corner of the churchyard a circular wooden cover lay in a sunken dell. I lifted it off, to find the Holy Well of St Gilbert, founder of the priory, bubbling quietly beneath, brimful and as clear as glass.

How hard is it? 6½ miles; easy; clear field paths

Start: Folkingham market place, near Sleaford NG34 0TG (OS ref TF 072337)

Getting there: Folkingham is on A15 (Sleaford-Bourne)

Walk (OS Explorer 248): Down hill; in 150m left on fenced path between Orchard Cottage and Bradley House. Cross path (stile); ahead to stile onto Billingborough Rd (075334). Left; in 50m, right (fingerpost/FP); left on field edge path (occasional yellow arrows) for ¾ mile to path junction (082331, 3-finger post). Left (‘Restricted Byway’); in 150m right (3-finger post). In 400m, left by reservoir (085326) along Beacon Lane. In ½ mile cross road (093329); on across big fields; in trees at far side, right (103326). In 100m left (FP); in 200m fork left on fenced path to church (107329). NB – Holy Well in SE corner of churchyard. From NE corner, north along field edge path (3-finger post) to cross road (103337). Down right side of field; in 100m, left on path (unsigned) west across fields. In ⅔ mile cross road (094336); on (FP) to rejoin outward route.

Lunch: Folkingham Shop café, open 9-2 weekdays; New Inn, West St, Folkingham NG34 0SW (01529-497211) – open daily, ring for meal times.

Accommodation: Whichcote Arms, Osbournby, NG34 0DG (01529-455295, whichcotearms.co.uk) – welcoming, dog-friendly village pub.

Folkingham House of Correction: landmarktrust.org.uk

Info: visitlincolnshire.com

 Posted by at 01:10
Jun 172023
 


First published in: The Times Click here to view a map for this walk in a new window
Old Shaftesbury Drove valley north of Ebbesbourne Wake looking back towards Ebbesbourne Wake downs near Church Bottom 1 downs near Church Bottom 2 looking down into Church Bottom path under Prescombe Down Church Bottom 1 Church Bottom 2 View from Old Shaftesbury Drove 1 Old Shaftesbury Drove 2 View from Old Shaftesbury Drove 2

The font in the Church of St John the Baptist at Ebbesbourne Wake has its drain hole stopped with a champagne cork. What fun christenings must be in this little Wiltshire village.

Outside, pyramidal orchids grew in the unmown churchyard. Slowly moving elephantine clouds jostled each other 20,000 feet above the chalk downs that cradle Ebbesbourne Wake.

Skylarks sang at full tilt over the blue-green wheat fields where flints rattled under my boots as I gained height above the village. A young roe deer stared, then turned tail. As she cantered off, two tiny fawns rose from where they had been crouching stock-still and bobbed away after her.

Yellow rattle, lady’s bedstraw and big clumps of wild thyme grew on the slopes of the steep dry chalk valley of Church Bottom. Frisky bullocks were playing follow-my-leader, and I was glad to leave them behind and walk up onto the roof of the downs.

The views were sensational all round the compass: a long procession of folded downland country, the chalk foundations smoothed and sculpted by millennia of weathering, their thin skin of agriculture a patchwork of white plough, yellow mown grass, green corn and dun scrub. The downs looked as elastic and bouncy in their rounded forms as the cumulus clouds piling up overhead.

Two hares sat beside the track, ears erect, on half-alert. One lolloped slowly away, and the other yawned and stayed put. Humans? I can take ’em or leave ’em, quite frankly.

The path led across a field of barley, the bearded heads sinuating in silky waves at every gust of wind. Beyond ran Old Shaftesbury Drove, an ancient ridgeway, once the chief coach road between Salisbury and Shaftesbury, nowadays a fine rutted trackway between hedges as thick and species-rich as linear slices of woodland.

I followed the old drove for a mile or so, then cut back from the ridge along a green lane. Down in the valley, late sunlight lit houses and hill slopes. There was time for one more surprise – a beautiful old traction engine that went clattering and panting up the hill and away, leaving behind the evocative smell of coal smoke to cense the evening lanes.

How hard is it? 5 miles; easy; field and downland tracks.

Start: Church car park, Hay Lane, Ebbesbourne Wake SP5 5JJ approx (OS ref ST 991241)

Getting there: Bus 29 (Shaftesbury – Salisbury)
Road: A30 (Salisbury-Shaftesbury); at Fovant, minor road to Fifield Bavant; Ebbesbourne Wake signed from here.

Walk (OS Explorer 118): From corner of car park follow path past church, and through lych gate. Left on path to road (991242). Right; in 50m left (fingerpost) on path. In 75m left over stile; along valley to cross road (989243). Up bank; left up field edge. In 100m fork right across field (988245) and on. In 400m through gate (991247, ‘Bridleway’), down to valley bottom. Half right to gate by wood (992249). On up Church Bottom. In 800m at water trough, up through gate on right (993257). Woodland path; cross track; on across field. At far side, gate (995259); on (blue arrow) across field. Pass gate, left along drove road (998263). In 1 mile watch for crossing track (982257). Left here, down for 1 mile to valley road at West End. Right at bus shelter (984242); at top of hill, left (983240, ‘Bridleway’) up drive. Pass gate; round left bend; immediately left (983238) on grass path back to car park.

Lunch: Horseshoe Inn, Ebbesbourne Wake SP5 5JF (01722-780474, thehorseshoe-inn.co.uk)

Accommodation: Queen’s Head, Broad Chalke SP5 5EN (01722-780344, queensheadbroadchalke.co.uk)

Info: Chalke Valley History Festival, 26 June-2 July – 01722-781133, cvhf.org.uk

 Posted by at 05:20
Jun 102023
 


First published in: The Times Click here to view a map for this walk in a new window
Hisehope Reservoir Cushat Leazes farm Hisehope Reservoir 2 feeder channel between Hisehope and Smiddy Shaw reservoirs Grouse butt between Hisehope and Smiddy Shaw reservoirs faint track of the path above Hisehope Burn path across the moor Waskerley Way old railway path open moor near Hisehope Reservoir grouse butt near Hisehope Reservoir southern marsh orchid along the Waskerley Way red grouse shelters among old heather golden plover near the Waskerley Way Smiddy Shaw Reservoir

Cyclists on the Waskerley Way railway path pedalled into a strong cold blow from the west. The rest of the UK was sweltering in 30º of heat, but not up here on this brisk day of sun and cloud over the Durham moors.

The old railway rose gently to the west between bushes of gorse and young juniper. The wind carried lamb cries and the liquid territorial calls of nesting curlew, cur-leek! cur-leek! I almost trod on a curlew egg, a long olive-green oval camouflaged with tarry scribbles. A lapwing flapped above us, whistling in agitation, then landed to run parallel to us, crested head raised, before taking off for another agitated circuit above the human intruders.

Lumpy mounds of spoil bore witness to lead mining in the not so distant past. Nowadays the moors are managed patchwork-style for grouse, with coarse grey patches of old heather left for shelter and bright green young shoots for food. It was wonderfully exhilarating to be walking these uplands with their long views and sombre colours under a racing sky.

We left the Waskerley Way and followed a stony track down to the long dam wall and wind-rippled water of Hisehope Reservoir. A feeder channel paved with stone led away east across the moor. Fenn traps had been placed on poles that crossed the channel to catch four-legged predators on grouse. Snipe and golden plover flew up with piping cries, then settled to their nesting once more.

A side path ran off north across the moor, soon descending to cross the deep-sunk Backstone and Hisehope burns in a steep little gully. From here the landscape changed to thistly meadows crossed by the faintest of cart tracks. The lonely farmhouse of Cushat Leazes drooped sadly, slate roof falling in, walls patchy where handily shaped stones had been robbed for wall-mending, a reminder of just how tough life is for the upland sheep farmers.

We followed a green path over rough pasture to climb the steps to the brink of Smiddy Shaw Reservoir. The wind drove the water in whitecaps, and the view back across the moors we’d tramped disclosed a big dark marsh harrier sailing close to the heather, a lapwing rising to scold it away with urgent, creaking cries.

How hard is it? 6 miles; easy (but GPS helpful); moorland tracks

Start: Waskerley Farm car park, Consett DH8 9DZ approx (OS ref NZ 051453)

Getting there: A692 Consett to Castleside; cross A68; minor road past Horsleyhope; in 3 miles, left (brown sign ‘Waskerley Station’).

Walk (OS Explorer 307): Right along Waskerley Way/WW. In 1¼ miles at next car park (033453), right; left beside road. In 250m right on track to Hisehope Reservoir. Just beyond house, right (025462) along channel. In ⅔ mile round right bend to footbridge (037464). Left here on moor path for ⅓ mile to Backstone Burn. Follow right bank; cross burn at confluence with Hisehope Burn (040473). Left to cross Hisehope Burn. Up bank; in 150m, right over ladder stile (039474). Ahead across grass on track. In 100m edge left to raised bank; follow it to ford (039476); on to reach wall on left. Follow it to house (041479). In dip, right on grassy drive. Cross footbridge (042477); in 200m pass Cushat Leazes ruin; bear right (044475) on green path. In ⅓ mile through wall gate (043470); ahead on moor track; steps up to Smiddy Shaw Reservoir (044464). Left; at car park (047462) left to road; right to corner (048457); left (‘WW’) to car park.

Lunch: Picnic

Accommodation: Derwent Manor Boutique Hotel, Allensford DH8 9BB (01207-592000; derwentmanorhotel.com)

Info: thisisdurham.com

 Posted by at 01:25
Jun 032023
 


First published in: The Times Click here to view a map for this walk in a new window
Hunstanton cliffs 1 Hunstanton cliffs 2 Wreck of steam trawler Sheraton Hunstanton cliffs 3 Hunstanton cliffs 4 Hunstanton cliffs 5 Sea holly in Holme Dunes Zigzag sand trap, Holme beach Looking across the freshwater marshes to Thornham

Half of Norfolk seemed to have descended on Hunstanton this glorious afternoon. Corny old tunes blared from the seafront bandstand, chip vinegar scented the breeze, and holidaymakers in their thousands strolled the dusky red sands and revelled in the unbroken blue of the sky.

It feels weird that Hunstanton, a Norfolk coastal resort, faces west rather than east. The town sits on the eastern flank of The Wash, a mighty tidal basin into which drain four great rivers – Nene, Welland, Great Ouse and Witham. Looking seaward from the promenade today we saw long banks of purple sand, scars of red rock, and paddlers far out in the shallows of the receding tide.

The cliffs to the north of Hunstanton are remarkable to behold. They form a striped sandwich of rock, the white of chalk on top separated from the rusty orange carrstone below by a thin crumbly band of red chalky limestone. It looks as though a giant carrot cake with white icing has been neatly sliced and left at the back of the beach.

We walked the sands and clambered among the rounded and thickly barnacled boulders on the beach. At the feet of the cliffs a litter of big chalk slabs showed how unstable and prone to falls the structure is. Stretched out among the rocks we found the cast-iron skeleton of the steam trawler Sheraton, wrecked in 1947, now slowly rusting into dissolution.

The muddy shore was scribbled with wormcasts. A gang of turnstone chicks pattered among them, quite unafraid as we passed. In cracks of the cliffs on the boundary line between red and white, fulmars stared out from their nests with sooty panda eyes.

At Old Hunstanton the cliffs dipped. The orange carrstone disappeared beneath the shoreline, the white chalk followed suit, and a line of sandhills took over the north-eastern march of the coastline. Soon the kaleidoscopic jumble of brilliantly coloured beach tents and swimming costumes filtered out to an empty beach and a dune system rich in birds and flowers.

The coast path ran between dunes and grassy hinterland. Sea holly showed its blue-green prickles, stonecrop pushed up sulphur-yellow stars from fleshy stems. Everything that can withstand salty winds and retain rainwater flourishes here – solid southern marsh orchids and spindly twayblades, deep blue curls of viper’s bugloss and white trumpets of sea campion.

Beyond Holme Dunes we emerged from the sandhills to find the sea suddenly close inshore, a fan of sand spreading beyond an apron of creek-cut saltmarsh to the east. Linnets with rose-coloured breasts flitted among the sea buckthorn bushes, and a reed bunting with white collar and black bill swayed and squeaked on a twig like a tiny impassioned preacher.

We turned inland along a zigzag of flood banks guarding grazing marshes reclaimed from the sea, and made for the red roofs of Thornham across the fields as evening began to close in.

How hard is it? 6½ miles; easy; level walking on beach and coast path

Start: Hunstanton seafront, PE36 5BQ (OS ref TF 672409)

Getting there: Bus – Norfolk Coastliner from Thornham (on A149 Hunstanton-Cromer)
Road – Hunstanton is on A149 between Heacham and Brancaster

Walk (OS Explorer 250): From Hunstanton seafront, turn right along beach (low tide) or Norfolk Coast Path along cliffs, to Old Hunstanton. Continue along Coast Path (waymarked) to Thornham. Opposite Orange Tree Inn (733432), take Norfolk Coastliner bus back to Hunstanton.

Lunch/Accommodation: Orange Tree Inn, Thornham PE36 6LY (01485-512213, theorangetreethornham.co.uk) – excellent village inn, perfectly placed at walk’s end.

Info: Holme Dunes – norfolkwildlifetrust.org.uk
Coastliner bus timetable – lovenorfolk.co.uk/norfolk-coastliner

 Posted by at 01:46
May 272023
 


First published in: The Times Click here to view a map for this walk in a new window
Canons Ashby house guinea hen at South West Farm neat and clean - ewes and lambs at South West Farm Canons Ashby Priory fish ponds 1 Canons Ashby Priory fish ponds 2 blackthorn hedge on the field path towards the ridge road looking south along Oxford Lane fossil shell from the wheatfield alongside Oxford Lane Canons Ashby - St Mary's Church and houses 1 Canons Ashby - St Mary's Church and houses 2 Canons Ashby - St Mary's Church

When the National Trust took over Canons Ashby in 1981, the Tudor country house in gently rolling Northamptonshire countryside was a wreck, its gardens run wild. It was hard to imagine that, on this brisk spring day with volunteers tending the tulip beds and topiary in the immaculate gardens, and others ready to fill in the story of the ironstone house and its dark panelled rooms gathered tightly round a tall courtyard.

The Augustinian canons of the medieval priory here were rather a naughty lot. In 1432 the visiting Bishop had to rebuke them for lecherous, rowdy and drunken behaviour. When the priory was finally dissolved in 1536, the outgoing Prior had earned a sorry reputation for hosting wild student parties, worshipping in a lavish silver robe, and flouting his vows of celibacy.

Out in the parkland beyond the house, ewes bleated for lambs who scampered up with grubby knees. Bullocks jostled to stare at us over the hedge. At South West Farm a couple of guineafowl went scuttling across the road with their characteristically furtive air, hunched down in spotted cloaks of feathers as though guilty of some misdoing.

The trees around the priory fishponds were loud with birdsong – chaffinches, blackbirds, great tits, blackcaps and song thrushes giving it their best springtime chorus. The path led round the margins of enormous fields of wheat. In their hedges white blossom of blackthorn and pink of crab apple gave promise of a fruitful autumn six months hence.

Up on the crest of the land we turned along a ridge road with long views over the plough-striped undulations of the countryside. The verges of the road were lined with trees, wide grassy strips that told of past animal droving.

Oxford Lane, our return route to Canons Ashby, was another broad green highway. Cattle, sheep and pigs would be driven down here towards the slaughterhouses and college kitchens of the University Town. The old green road has lost its easterly hedge to modern farming. The soil of the wheatfields that bordered it was thick with flint, chert, fossil shells and pebbles rolled smooth and round by some great prehistoric river.

Bluebells hazed the ground under the larches of Ashby Gorge, pink bonnets of milkmaids spattered the damp ditches, and a few early bees went buzzing among the white sloe blossom.

How hard is it? 5 miles; easy; field paths

Start: Canons Ashby house, near Daventry, Northants NN11 3SD (OS ref SP 577505) – NT pay car park. Limited parking at church

Getting there: Canons Ashby is signposted from A361 (Daventry-Banbury)

Walk (OS Explorer 206): From car park, right down road. Just past South West Farm, right (573503, fingerpost) on field path, following arrows. In ¾ mile, at ‘Private’ notice (568512), left along farm track, then hedgeside track. In ½ mile at oak tree with arrows (564519), right with hedge on right. In 400m left up hedge (568520) to road (568521). Right; in ⅔ mile, opposite road on left, right down Oxford Lane hedged track (578525, ‘Byway, Macmillan Way’/MW). In ½ mile MW bears right (580516), but keep ahead. In ½ mile cross road (584508) and on. In 400m right (584504, gate, arrow); half left across pastures till right-hand hedge meets fence (579501). Through 3 kissing gates, across footbridge; on across field to cross road (577499, fingerpost). Field path to road at South West Farm (574503); right to car park.

Lunch: Crown Inn, Weston NN12 8PX (01295-760310, thecrowninnweston.co.uk); NT teashop at Canons Ashby.

Accommodation: Weston Hill Farm, Moreton Pinkney NN11 3SN (01295-760217)

Info: nationaltrust.org.uk

 Posted by at 01:54
May 202023
 


First published in: The Times Click here to view a map for this walk in a new window
Coalport Bridge River Severn between Bridgnorth and Jackfield 1 River Severn between Bridgnorth and Jackfield 2 wild garlic in a sandstone cutting on Mercian Way old railway path Apley Hall 1 Linley Station, Severn Valley Railway, built for Thomas Whitmore of Apley Hall old mill building near Linley Station Molehills along River Severn between Bridgnorth and Jackfield 3 Severn Way between Bridgnorth and Jackfield

Bridgnorth hangs over the River Severn, crowned by a pinnacled church tower, its buildings piled one above another like an Italian hill town. But there the resemblance ends. These three-storey red brick river warehouses, gable-end advertisements for ancient seed merchants and beamy pubs belong to England alone.

The old Shropshire river port is chock full of character. It was hard to tear ourselves away from the tangled hilly streets packed high with houses, but as the clock chimed midday we set out along the Severn Way footpath that clings closely to the west bank of the river.

There was a strength and power to the Severn today, the water gleaming with a bronzy sheen and exuding that unmistakable riverine smell of muddy vegetation. Tender new green leaves poked out on weeping willows, and bushes of comfrey along the bank were hung with white and pink flower bells.

A man in a yellow singlet sculled a long racing shell upriver, easily overtaking us with powerful strokes against the current. We threaded a golf course margin past the ochre and grey sandstone cliff of High Rock, then followed the path at the edge of clover leys and ploughed fields of dark red earth scattered with last year’s wrinkled remnants of beets and potatoes.

A goldfinch skimmed away with a swooping flight. A dozen swallows perched chirping in a hawthorn, and a gang of blue tits tinkled and bounced from branch to branch of a sycamore half in and half out of the river. Floods had pulled some trees down to water level; others tottered precariously, barely clinging to the bank with roots exposed.

Two men were building a flight of steps for fishermen into the bank. ‘Hard work,’ one grunted. ‘See them molehills? Can you tell the moles to come down here and give us a hand?’

We crossed a stile and turned along the line of the old Severn Valley Railway, now the Mercian Way multi-user path. On a rise of ground above the far bank, the enormous Gothic Revival façade of Apley Hall looked out over the Severn. Thomas Whitmore, owner of the Apley Estate, bitterly opposed the building of the railway across his land and through his sightline in the 1850s. He was appeased with a payoff of £14,000 – about £2 million today – and the building of a special station at Linley (now a private house) where he could hail up trains for a personal pick-up.

We passed Linley Station’s flowery platform and walked on through mossy sandstone cuttings lined with cowslips and wild garlic, the Severn never more than a field away, till railway and river reconnected for the last mile into Jackfield.

How hard is it? 8½ miles; easy; riverside and railway path

Start: Riverside car park, Bridgnorth WV16 4BH (OS ref SO 719931). Limited parking; other all-day car parks available in Bridgnorth.

Getting there: Bus 8 (Telford – Bridgnorth)
Road: Bridgnorth is on A442 from Telford (M54 Jct 4)

Walk (OS Explorer 218, 242): Follow road upstream beside river, then Severn Way to Jackfield.
Alternative: in 3 miles, where Severn Way and old railway run close together (721974), left over stile onto Mercian Way multi-user path and turn right. In 1¼ miles, just past Linley Station (705983), pass notice forbidding traffic and cycles, and continue. In another 2¾ miles at Coalport Station (702019), sharp right along road; opposite Woodbridge Inn, left along Severn Valley Way to Jackfield.
Return to Bridgnorth by Bus 8, Telford-Bridgnorth.

Lunch: Woodbridge Inn, Coalport TF8 7JF (01952-882054, brunningandprice.co.uk) – very friendly, welcoming pub.

Accommodation: Falcon Hotel, St John’s Street, Bridgnorth WV15 6AG (01746-763134)

Info: visitshropshire.co.uk, ironbridge.org.uk

 Posted by at 01:25