Tag Archives: Canals

DAY THREE ON THE TWO SAINTS WAY.

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Nantwich to Barthomley.      12 miles.

  I reflect on the temporary healing powers of beer and Brufen as I hobble into Nantwich on a lovely sunny morning. The Church of St. Mary doesn’t open its doors until 10am, so I poke about in the narrow streets with some surprising finds.

Chimney from a wheelwright’s forge and smithy,

The Market Hall.

Good to see it thriving.

Parked up for the day’s shopping.

Immaculate Higgins classic.  I saw the proud owner cycling on quiet lanes later in the day.

  St Mary is an amazing church – cathedral like. You are enthralled as soon as you enter the Nave. Most of the church is C14th, and it is recognised as one of the finest Medieval churches in England.   The splendid, intricately carved Monks stalls with triple canopies and their Misericords grab your attention.     A fine tomb to a Thomas Smith and his wife from the C17th…     …and an effigy of C14th Sir David Cradoc, patron of the church, in alabaster.   A majestic modern stained window depicted life in rural Cheshire, linked into the creation story with Halley’s Comet in the right trefoil, dating it to 1985.    I forgot to look for the several ‘Green Men’ in the church. On the outside there were some fine gargoyles, in the red sandstone.
  At last, I was away and walking through pleasant parks alongside the River Weaver. Dog walkers were in ascendancy – I wonder how long this passion with dogs will last? Nantwich seemed to be a good place to live.

    And then I was in the countryside with well-marked paths leading me on.   I was on my way to Wybunbury, Winbury to you, and I was pleased to find the post office open with coffee and sandwiches available to enjoy on the seat outside. I take every chance I can for a sit down and some caffeine.

  At the end of the village was St. Chad’s tower once a C15th church but now truncated since the demolition of the main part of the church in 1972 due to subsidence. The tower was stabilised in 1832 using methods of under-excavation, later employed to stabilise that leaning tower in Pisa. Apparently it still leans to the north. It is thought that one of the figures at the entrance depicts  St. Chad. A modern St. Chad’s church was passed in the village earlier.

As it was early C20th.

  The path out of the churchyard took me through a wetland reserve and up into horse paddocks with a multitude of stiles, when a simple footpath diversion would have been more sensible.   On the outskirts of Hough I met up with a man and his Springer Spaniel, both as keen as each other on exploring the boggy land in the woods which we traversed. Then it was into fields of tall maize, where you just had to follow a narrow corridor. Somewhere along there I crossed the West Coast mainline, the real one this time. I was glad of a sit down and coffee at the White Lion in Weston. Across the road was the small brick built All Saints’ Church with its unusual semicircular chancel.

  Time was passing on as I walked the narrow lanes to Englesea Brook a small hamlet with a museum devoted to Primitive Methodism. Originated in America, the movement began in England around 1807. It was mainly a working class movement and had a part to play in the establishment of the trade unions.  A prominent tomb in the graveyard is that of Hugh Bourne, one of the pioneers of Primitive Methodism.   Onwards past some fine houses with a few hills to climb at the end of the day.   At last the steeple of St. Bertoline’s Church at Barthomley came into view, standing on Barrow Hill an ancient burial ground. This is where on a visit a few months ago I discovered the Two Saints Trail, it felt good to return here. Each section of the way has an interpretation board erected by http://www.twosaintsway.org.uk

St. Bertoline’s is a handsome church in red sandstone, most of it dating from the 15th century, though there is a Norman doorway built into the north wall. Inside are tombs of past notables in the Crewe Chapel. The chancel was rebuilt in 1925–26 by Austin and Paley, well known church architects from Lancaster. Above the west door are three carved heads, the left one was replaced in 2015 with the homely face of Bishop Peter Forster of Chester. I met the vicar as he came to lock up and of course discussed at length ‘my pilgrimage’.  He had recently come to this church from a Blackpool parish – what a contrast.

  Adjacent to the church is the friendly White Lion Inn where I enjoyed a pint of beer in memory of Dor whose relatives are buried here and who loved this pub.   This has been a long day, five churches, but it was not finished. I had struggled to find accommodation in Barthomley and all I could manage was the Travel Lodge a mile or so away just off the motorway on a busy dual carriage way. I risked life and limb getting there only to find I wasn’t booked in. Not knowing there were two, I had by mistake booked the Travel Lodge in Crewe, a few miles away. They could accommodate me here, but at the cost of £100, the ‘walk in rate’. I laughed at that, as they had never had anybody actually walk in before, cars and lorries only. Helpfully, the receptionist suggested getting me a taxi to the other place and before I knew it I was putting my feet up in my booked room. That was the least expensive way out of the dilemma, and I would book a taxi to take me back to Barthomley in the morning. But I did feel stupid.

*****

The arrow on the map shows my eventual destination.

DAY TWO ON THE TWO SAINTS WAY.

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 Tarporley to Nantwich.   12 miles.

  As soon as I arrived in Nantwich I searched out a chemist before they closed. I was in need of more Brufen and some gel heel pads as I had been in increasing pain during the day. I was still considering catching the train home, the station was close by. But let’s see what difference a night’s rest makes. The Railway Inn where I was staying weren’t doing meals, shortage of chefs at the moment with Brexit and Covid. I was content with a pint and a sandwich and that early night.

  This morning I had rejoined the Two Saints Way on the Shropshire Union Canal at the Shady Oak pub for a short stretch to Wharton’s Lock. I’d been here before on the Sandstone Trail which was followed up to Beeston Tor, arriving before the castle opened – another time.

  Then I ended up walking along quiet Cheshire lanes, as apparently the right of way across fields has been disputed, time the Council sorted that problem, it sniffs of rich landowners to me. At least from up here there were good views back of Beeston Castle.

  Bunbury was a spread out village where I stopped off at The Nags Head for a coffee, surprising how many people were drinking in the bar at this early hour.

  St. Boniface church, C15th, was on the highest point and as I arrived a funeral service was just finishing with people milling around outside. Out of respect, I was going to move on, but a chance conversation with the funeral director assured me they would be gone shortly. In fact, this had been a memorial service for a local resident who’d died during last year’s lockdown. A Scottish piper headed the ash scattering procession into the churchyard. Then I eventually looked around the beautiful sandstone church, featuring some outstanding stained-glass and historic tombs. The friendly vicar, who was very proud of his church, was interested in my route and pointed out not to be missed churches further along the way. The day was getting on, so I didn’t visit the Dysart Arms opposite.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

                                                                                                                                                    

I walked on to rejoin the canal at Bunbury locks, where there was the old stabling for express horses of days gone by.  

  Continuing along the canal I passed the equivalent of a motorway service station busy with barges and boating people. It appeared as though some regulars along this stretch were vying for floral boat of the year. I came across an unexpected café at a cheese factory. I don’t often pass a coffee stop, so I was soon ensconced with a brew. Lots of friendly people to chat to and a chance to put my foot up.

  The canal continued alongside a busy road and industrial estates. I was distracted enough to photo all the different flowers on the towpath. Up to 30 different species in a short stretch, I won’t bore you with all the pictures.

  Slowly the walk became more rural as I passed the Middlewich branch of the canal. The waters became much busier with traffic, everybody seemed to be having fun. 

   I decided not to take the Llangollen canal as my heel was playing up, I just continued along the Shropshire Union into Nantwich, a busy section of the canal.

Soon I was in Nantwich, with its many attractive and historic buildings.

  The church could wait until tomorrow, I was in need of a rest.

*****

CaptureTSW 2

DAY ONE ON THE TWO SAINTS WAY.

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Chester to Tarporley.  11 miles.

  I started my Two Saints Way  “pilgrimage” in Chester. An early morning train had me there by 9am and the Cathedral is not far from the station.  The Romans built a settlement here with straight intersecting roads in AD 79. It was later inhabited by a Romano/British population, and it remained an important location for the domination of Wales. At the site of the present Cathedral, Christian worship began in late Roman times. A church and abbey were dedicated to St. Werburgh when her remains were moved here, protected by the Roman walls.  At the dissolution,1538,  the abbey was destroyed but the Cathedral subsequently survived. As was normal, additions and alterations took place up to the Victorian era. It has to become one of the best representatives of the Gothic and Perpendicular styles. I went to see the shrine of St. Werburgh. I was greeted by a model railway exhibition!

  Pete Waterman OBE, the record producer and railway enthusiast, has designed a layout to commemorate the work of Chester’s Civil Engineer Thomas Brassey, 1805 – 1870,  who in his lifetime was responsible for many of the railways in Britain and the rest of the world. There is a commemoration bust to him in the cathedral. Lots of excited children and adults were gazing at the little trains whizzing around Pete’s West Coast mainline. Is that the man himself?

  To get back to my purpose down the far end of the magnificent nave of the Cathedral was the shrine to St. Werburgh who looked a little small in her niche.

Elsewhere, there were stained-glass images of both my saints.

 

  There was much more to explore in the Cathedral, but I haven’t space here for more pictures. My journey had begun.

  The streets of Chester were busy with tourists and shoppers but around the corner was an old cross unnoticed by many, it stands at the  central Roman crossroads.  Then it was shops galore down Bridge Street…

… leading to Newgate, the Roman amphitheatre and St. John’s Church with its attendant Medieval ruined chapel, the first Saxon Chester Cathedral.    I reached the canal and set off Eastwards at last. This area had been the industrial heartland of Chester in the C19th, when it was an important port. There has been a sympathetic preservation of the old alongside modern living. This was the Chester Canal, the first part of the Shropshire Union network. The towpath has been ‘improved’ with tarmac giving fast going, but I found hard going on my heel. More locks followed and at Tarvin Road lock there was a traditional lockkeepers cottage and an unusual round lengthman’s hut.

My first diversion was into the village of Christleton, a wealthy backwater, to visit St. James, a C15th church built on the site of a much older wooden church. Inside were several interesting relics, including a marble font, Millennium stained-glass windows and a wooden carving of a pelican tearing its breast to feed its young.

  Alongside the church on the green was the village well and Victorian pump house.

  I found my way back to the canal, now passing elegant houses and gardens. Fishermen were after perch and roach. One chap I chatted to said he had had 20 catches that day but whilst I was there not a single bite!

  There were no locks on this stretch through the flat Cheshire countryside. Passing a marina, I watched a couple trying to steer their newly hired boat out of the basin.

  Along here I saw my first Way of St. Chad’s roundel marker.

  Onwards the towpath was rather overgrown, not many people walking this stretch. Over to the right was Beeston Tor with its prominent castle, on tomorrow’s walk.

My destination today was Wharton’s Lock, where I intended to have a drink in the Shady Oak pub whilst waiting for a taxi to Tarporley. Alas, the pub was closed, the first of many. I was preparing to walk up the roads to Tarporley when another disappointed couple who had travelled here for a drink offered me a lift. Before I knew it, I was sat in the beer garden of the Forrester’s Arms. That was fortuitous because by then I was limping on my bad heel and ominous thoughts of having to catch the train home tomorrow were in my mind. A good evening meal and a night’s sleep hopefully would put me in a different frame of mind, if not body, tomorrow.

 

*****

TSW 1

 

THE TWO SAINTS WAY.

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   Whilst visiting Barthomley in Cheshire a few weeks ago I noticed a footpath marker for the Two Saints Way, a route I was unaware of. A bit of research on the LDWA site followed, and the guidebook was ordered.    (Incidentally I use Blackwell’s now for ordering online books. They are competitive with Amazon for price and delivery, are still independent and pay their taxes in the UK.)   The route has been devised as a 92mile (148K) Pilgrimage between the Cathedral cities of Chester and Lichfield. David Pott’s guide-book is well-produced and gives all the background information you need on the Saints and Churches. The directions seem precise and are separate from the descriptive information.

The Two Saints are St. Chad, whose shrine is in Lichfield, and St. Werburgh, enshrined in Chester. They were both alive in the kingdom of Mercia in the 7th century and were prominent in introducing Christianity to the region. In Medieval times, pilgrimages were made between the two cities and onwards. I have completed St. Cuthbert’s Way, The North Downs Way and St. Hilda’s Way in the past, not to mention the Camino de Santiago de Compostela, so this route sits alongside them nicely. I am not overtly religious, but the history and sense of purpose behind these ancient and modern pilgrimages appeal to me and give a theme and focal point to a long-distance walk. In any case, many ancient tracks now followed by our trails were originally used by monks linking their monasteries,  and these became trade routes. Wayside crosses are a common sight on our walking trails.

   St. Werburgh was the daughter of the Mercian King Wulphere, she learnt the Roman Christian faith from her mother and entered a convent at Ely. Over her life, she came to oversee all the convents in Mercia and was respected as a model of Christian virtue. She was buried at Hanbury, Staffordshire, but during a Danish invasion in the C9th her bones were moved to the safety of St. Peter and St. Paul in the walled city of Chester. Her shrine there became a pilgrimage site, and the abbey church became Chester Cathedral. A story links St. Werburgh and a miracle with a flock of geese, and a goose became a symbol of her.

   St. Chad was born around 634 to a Northumbrian family and had his early religious training under St. Aidan at Lindisfarne and then in Ireland. In his life, known for humility and Godliness, he took on many monastic positions and came to Lichfield in Mercia where he would baptise the converted in a holy well. Nearby, he founded St. Mary’s church. He was buried there in 672, but when a new church was built nearby in 700 his remains were transferred there, this was superseded by the present day Cathedral started in 1085. At the Reformation some of his bones were removed and hidden by Catholic families in Staffs, they were found at Aston Hall, on the route, and moved to Birmingham RC Cathedral. St. Chad’s well became a site of pilgrimage. The Gospels of St. Chad, documents from his time, are preserved in the Cathedral and the symbol of St Chad’s Cross was taken from them.

Enough of the history, I am looking forward to walking through traditional English countryside and interesting towns and cities. Hopefully a varied walk. For no good reason I’m starting in Chester and heading to Lichfield.   Uniquely, the Two Saints Way route is referred to as The Way of St Chad in the Chester to Lichfield direction and waymarked with the symbolic cross of St Chad. The route from Lichfield to Chester is referred to as The Way of St Werburgh and waymarked with a goose, her symbol.  So, I’ll be following the Way of St. Chad, but paying homage to St. Werburgh whenever I look back.

 

*****

Since I wrote this I ‘bruised’ my heel bouldering and have delayed the start of my walk. Wish me luck.

A QUICK VISIT TO CHESHIRE.

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  For reasons, I’ll explain, I found myself in deepest Cheshire looking around the graveyard of St Bertoline’s Church in Barthomley.    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Bertoline%27s_Church,_Barthomley 

Mike knew from previous visits the whereabouts of the Stringer and Mc.Vay family graves. They were distant relatives of his recently deceased wife and had been tenants of the nearby White Lion until the 50s. That is where we were heading next for the main reason for our journey, He shares the ownership of a house in France with a couple from Stafford and they are in the process of selling it, so meeting up with them here was like a board meeting. I was along for the ride. Selling houses in France has become complicated with changes introduced by Brexit and made more difficult with Covid restrictions  I will miss my visits to their wonderful property in The Lot which I’ve posted about here many times. Strangely the Ribble Valley  now has the highest Covid infection rates in the UK, should I be here at all?

David and Glenda were already seated at one of the outside tables at The White Lion, whose history goes back almost as far as the church which overlooks it. The usual catching ups were completed, property business discussed and a good meal enjoyed.Mike suggested a postprandial walk before we hit the motorway north. A few years ago I walked the Cheshire Ring Canal Trail so I knew an interesting section of the Trent and Mersey Canal near Alsager only a few miles away. Luckily, we were able to park on the Old Congleton Road close to an access bridge to the canal. This canal is wide and in the main has double locks, reflecting its previous importance. Glenda and David had to retrace their steps to ensure keeping a later appointment, Mike and I carried on to where the Macclesfield Canal joins in. We followed the latter for a short distance, The Gritstone Trail, before going through a housing development to enter the Lawton Hall estate. The main path led to the fishing lake in the estate woods, large carp could be seen floating just under the surface. The hall, now private accommodation, was glimpsed across well guarded fields. I wanted to visit the medieval church associated with Lawton Hall, and we soon found ourselves climbing the mound on which the church was constructed. As with the church at Barthomley, the mounds were probably ancient burial sites. Back to the canal and then the long motorway drive home.

Going down.

Crossover bridge.

Parting of the ways.

Red Bull Wharf.

Lawton Hall.

Lawton Church.

Back to the motorway.

A nice interlude out of Lancashire and my first pub lunch for a year and a half.

*****

 

THE CUCKOO WAY. FIVE.

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Tuesday, May 25th,       10 miles.     Killamarsh to Chesterfield.

Rain was forecast for the afternoon, so I boarded the first bus to Killamarsh, it took well over an hour to reach the destination having travelled around most of the Chesterfield district. I’ve become used to sitting for all this time with my face mask on. Calling at the hospital we picked up a drunk who had probably been released from casualty, as could be expected he caused some chaos on board before staggering off in the middle of nowhere.

I alighted at the Canal Bridge stop where I finished yesterday, but it was difficult to make out the bridge as the canal was filled in, encouragingly though was a sign for The Cuckoo Way to Chesterfield. The Greenway runs all the way to Renishaw and is a facility I hope the locals make use of, there were very few on it today.  So I disappeared into the undergrowth on the edge of a housing estate. The line of the canal was just a ditch to my left, at least it doesn’t seem to have been built over. The Cuckoo Way roundels, which I explained yesterday, were a help in navigating where the canal has all but disappeared.

Turning a corner the Trans Pennine Trail cycling route appears to the right following an old railway line. One could walk on the cycleway but I preferred to stay on the “towpath”. All of a sudden there was water in the canal, this section has been a fishery part of the Sitwell Estate. Coming towards me was a gentleman and his hound, he turned out to be the water bailiff for the estate. During the periods when we’ve not been allowed to travel far local fishing became a boom pastime and he was kept busy supervising the waters. He told me of the plans to restore more stretches of the canal, how to save and transfer the fish and how the line of the HS2 was coming through the region adding complications to the scheme. In this age of zoom conferences and working more from home will another railway be needed? The canal reverts to a ditch farther on.

The water bailiff goes on his way.

The line of the canal, the towpath and the Trans-Pennine Trail alongside.

The Greenway continued at times narrow and muddy, at others alongside the redundant canal. The cycle way has gone elsewhere. It passed the outskirts of Renishaw and then as a footpath following the filled in canal across open fields. Good progress was made as the way was clear ahead, although I had no idea of where I really was.

Approaching Staveley the canal originally was carried on a high embankment to cross the River Doe Lea, this is apparent on the ground except at the river itself, Staveley Puddlebank.

Staveley Puddlebank.

A lot of work is being undertaken at Staveley with a new lock and a basin constructed. This is some achievement as much of the labour is voluntary, Chesterfield Canal Trust. It was easy to get lost here with the new works and the many cycle routes.

Lunch was eaten on a bench next to the old Mill Green bridge. Men were fishing in the basin using very lifelike lures. As I sat two vessels came up the canal. The first powering a reed cutter and his mate using a rake to clear the water. In front of my eyes, the raker pulled a bath out of the canal – catch of the day. A little farther along he’d netted a bike and a supermarket trolley or were they art installations?.

Much friendlier than they look.

Catch of the day.

Entertainment over, I set off on the last few miles into Chesterfield. The towpath remained good and  a café was open at Hollingwood Lock.  On this section to Tapton new locks and bridges have already been built, and the canal is viable, although the only two boats I saw were from the Canal Trust used for pleasure trips raising money for the restoration cause. If you had a boat why would you put it on a section of canal only navigable for six miles.

And then there was a mile to go…

The end of the 6mile navigable section is short of the city and the rather dreary water comes to an end by building development sites which were basins in the years of the working canal. There are plans for a new showcase canal basin close to the city centre.

This lady’s not for turning.

 

First and last lock.

Even if the canal peters out before you get into Chesterfield, the sight of that twisted landmark is inspiring.

On reflection, I think it would be better to walk the way in the opposite direction with a far better finish at the Trent in West Stockwith.

46 miles of varied walking and I only became lost once in the housing estates of Killamarsh. I never heard a cuckoo, but I found a plausible reason for the Cuckoo tag, 

*****

 

THE CUCKOO WAY. FOUR.

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Wednesday, 26th May.      10 miles.     Worksop to Killamarsh.

I found myself changing trains in Sheffield, but all went well and I was in Worksop by 9.30. Getting out of Worksop was more pleasant than getting in on the Eastern side had been – that old adage “West End Girls” comes to mind as I hum the almost Miles Davis like composition, hear that trumpet interlude!. The west ends of many towns and cities in England were usually cleaner and healthier to live in with the prevailing wind blowing the smog to the east ends.

Excuse my indulgence.

Back to the inauspicious start at an enclosed lock under the main street, but then all was lovely and green as this canal walk has been so far. I thought the sign was probably unnecessary.

I’m sure these were Tufted Ducks.

Today was going to be a day of locks, 30 were needed to raise the canal up to the Norwood Tunnel which went through the limestone ridge in the path of the canal between the Trent and Chesterfield, “The Giants Staircase”. Several of them were double or treble locks where there is no basin between the locks, these are quite rare in England. An amazing feat at the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. This stretch has been restored between 1995 and 2003, but the work is ongoing.

Eight locks up and I arrived at Shireoaks Marina, originally a C19th basin for a local colliery -the last coal left here in 1949. I had read about a recent building in the traditional way of a Cuckoo Boat, Dawn Rose, and that she was moored in the marina. I could find no way into the marina so if she was there I was denied a sight which is a shame.

Entrance to Shireoaks Marina.


The marina through the railings.

About this point I started to notice Cuckoo Way roundels. The birds didn’t look like cuckoos to me and I later read that they are choughs borrowed from Retford’s coat of arms and incorporated into the original Chesterfield Canal seal and now used in the Trusts emblem. The diamonds were from Chesterfield’s seal.

It was good to find some of those lovely Peak and Northern signs along the way. Above Shireoaks was the start of more climbing, the seven Turnerwood Locks and some old cottages picturesquely situated on the towpath. It was here I met a man cycling the towpath on a 1970s Claud Butler bike, one of the elite British bikes at the time. We chatted all things cycling and it was obvious he was very proud of his steed. Notice the Shimano gears with down tube shifters.

Around the corner a swan was sitting on her nest, it was only a few years ago that someone shot a pen in the same spot leaving the cob distraught. Why? Let’s hope this bird brings up a successful brood.

I was now at the bottom of the Thorpe series of locks with two triple locks and two double locks, 15 locks in half a mile all in sylvan scenery. I was suitably awestruck.

At the top the canal levels out. On the right is one of those old farms with accumulated junk from 50 years ago. I would have loved to explore deeper into the undergrowth but the whole place had a forbidding atmosphere.

Farther on was a DL – CC boundary stone which I’m still trying to decipher. The canal has the rail line running close by it and just before Kiveton Park station is the wharf where stone quarried nearby was loaded and taken off to London to rebuild the Houses of Parliament after they burnt down in 1834. At Dog Kennet Bridge the towpath changes sides for the short stretch to the blocked Norwood Tunnel. The last turnabout point is rather ornate. The tunnel ran for 2,880 yards before it was blocked by mining subsidence in 1907. I have to walk over the top.

The walk over was quite pleasant first past Kiveton Waters fishery, their café was closed, then through the old reclaimed colliery land where care was needed with the many paths going in all directions. Dropping downhill through fields there was an underpass for the M1 and then slowly water appeared on the left where the Norwood Locks had been. These were a series of 13 in a third of a mile, three treble and one quadruple. They are all filled in now. The way passes extravagant houses with traces of canal stonework in the water channel running alongside. It was whilst looking into the garden of one house that a kingfisher flew straight towards me, landed on a reed and then flew back again showing me all its colours.

Kiveton Fisheries.

Bits of the canal reappeared and then vanished under houses in Killamarsh where land was sold off. I became disorientated in the estates and reappeared at the bus stop 3minutes before the bus came down the hill. I have to get back here tomorrow morning hoping the line of the canal will be more obvious. It has been very short-sighted to build a housing estate here and it will be a major engineering undertaking to connect the two halves of the navigable canal.

 

Rather than end today on a sour note, here are a few photos of the detail that goes into lock construction.

   

 

*****

THE CUCKOO WAY. FIVE.

THE CUCKOO WAY. THREE.

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Sunday,  May 23rd.        10.5 miles,     Retford to Worksop.

Today I’m left with vivid memories of abundant greenery along the canal for most of the way. I started off from the Town Lock in the middle of Retford but within minutes I seemed to be surrounded by trees. The canal crossed aqueducts, including one over the River Idle, and then with the King’s Park on the right and a massive manicured cemetery on the left I was in the countryside. A few old wharves were evident and then the West Retford Lock. Close to town was popular with dog walkers, one lady pushing a baby buggy had a little terrier close behind, as she passed me I realised another terrier was having a ride in the babyless buggy – arthritis was her excuse.

Doggy buggy.

I hadn’t gone far when I came across boats moored up and their owners engaged in canal side chat. Most times you pass moored vessels all you are aware of is some smoke from the chimney with the occupants tinkering deep inside out of view. Anyhow, these three were very sociable as we discussed the difficulties of restoring canals. I was able to chip in with the Lancaster – Kendal problem which they seemed to know all about. As with yesterday’s couple drinking wine I’ve  never been offered even a cup of tea  from a canal boat. I’m sure Sir Hugh will have partaken.

Lady Bridge, number 54, had good examples of the grooves cut into the stone by the horses tow-ropes. Nearly all the bridges and locks on the Chesterfield Canal have been given names with past associations, I suspect it was a very sociable trade being a boatman along here.

The next sequence of narrow locks were named after the Forest of Sherwood which extended this far in the C18th. The third one was named Charlie’s after the lockkeeper who live in the adjoining house. More open countryside bordered the canal with rich looking sandy soil. However, there were still a lot of trees bordering the canal, particularly some fine specimens of weeping willow.

Charlie’s Lock.

Today’s corny name.

A stretch of the canal ran alongside the A1 and the noise was only just tolerable, pity the people living  there. The inviting looking pub, The Chequers at Randby, was on the wrong side of the water which was probably a blessing as I had a way to go. The canal twists and turns through the Randby Bends seemingly getting nowhere, but it is only cleverly following the contours.

By the time I reached Osberton Lock I was ready for lunch and luckily found a bench which happened to be a memorial to a gentleman who had lived in the attached lockkeeper’s cottage for many years.

I was now entering the estate of Osberton Hall and I found the towpath changing over to the left-hand bank – the owner of the Hall in the late C18th  had an Act of Parliament keeping the towpath on the opposite side from his house. The landowning toffs have always been up to it, nothing changes. I managed a sneaky shot of the stately pile.

Now it was all semi urban scenery into Worksop. Interest was maintained by the defunct steam driven Bracebridge Pumping Station, for Worksop’s C19th sewerage. The canal then comes alongside a massive factory, apparently a flour mill. There were some pleasant canal side cottages still standing.

Then over the canal in front of me was a warehouse with direct access to canal boats moored below – the trap door is still there. The warehouse was at one time owned by Pickfords of removal fame but now functions as a coffee shop and gym, I had visions of a weight lifter coming crashing through.  It was time to finish for the day.

*****

THE CUCKOO WAY. FOUR.

THE CUCKOO WAY. TWO.

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Saturday May 22nd.     6.5 miles.     Clayworth to Retford.

The bus drops me off opposite St. Peter’s Church, this originates from the C13th but was much altered in the C19th. Murals by the arts and crafts artist Phoebe Traquair cover all four walls of the chancel, but there was no entry today. Outside though the churchyard wall contains a large boulder, perhaps unearthed by navvies digging the canal or was it a meteorite landing in the village? The village cottages were bedecked in clematis and all was quiet on the little lane leading to the canal at Otters Bridge, now down to number 68..

This was the start of a delightful walking through open countryside, views across the flat drained fields, lively birdsong and the all-pervading Mayflower scent. A roe deer was seen scampering across an open field, mother mallards shepherding their broods and swans protecting their cygnets. There were long stretches of reed beds and I heard several warblers but only caught sight of the one Reed Warbler.

‘There are boats moored up alongside the headquarters of the Retford and Worksop Boat Club. Much tinkering is going on, but nobody is sailing. Today’s prize for the corniest boat name goes to Goldilocks.

Several canal side pubs were passed, but none looked inviting, plastic children’s play areas and hastily concocted Covid dining areas. One, The Hop Pole, reflected on the acres of hops grown locally in the C18th until the canal ruined their trade by bringing hops from Kent, which had a better taste. Another of interest on the outskirts of Retford, the Packet Inn, was once the terminus for the weekly packet boat from Clayworth bringing people and produce to market. This was a two-hour journey and the return was an alcohol fuelled party. 

Bridge 61 is named Bonemill bridge alongside the building where bones were crushed for use as fertiliser. All these bridges and the older warehouses are constructed with attractive local bricks which have aged well.

Alongside the canal a garden has been furnished with signs and the occupant was all to pleased to chat about them.

After miles without, the first lock of the day was named Whitsunday Pie Lock, this strange title having many dubious origins. It is the last wide lock on the canal.  People were fishing unsuccessfully for perch and a couple had pulled up in their boat having cruised out of Retford for the weekend. They had just opened a bottle of wine and were in no hurry to proceed. This resulted in a lengthy conversation about boating, Covid and the best pubs in Retford. They had named their newish boat Our Lass – they were well and truly Yorkshire born and bred. For some reason I omitted to take a photo.   The next couple walking their greyhound were just as chatty and seemed to have all the time in the day, maybe life is more relaxed around here. Eventually I came into Retford with more old warehouses making an appearance. As is often the case these have been either converted into attractive living accommodation or become cafés or restaurants. so it was pleasant enough as the rural scene turned to urban hustle and bustle. The Town Lock is much narrower than those before, a good place to finish for the day.

 

*****

THE CUCKOO WAY. THREE.

THE CUCKOO WAY. ONE.

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Monday,  May 24th.      10 miles.     West Stockwith to Clayworth.

The bus to W Stockwith went around the houses more than once, at one time reversing the way through Misterton. I have a tight logistical transport plan to enable me to walk linearly and I was beginning to see it go wrong on the first day,  or is it the third? – it is too complicated to explain.

Suffice to say I started the walk at the canal basin next to the River Trent.  Is this the start or the end of the canal, well it depends, but in my case it is the start. 46 miles to go.

The River Trent is wide here and tidal, boats used to access it from or to the basin by the first lock. The canal as far as Retford had locks wide enough to accommodate  the larger River Barges. People are busy tinkering with their boats in the basin and the sign says the lockkeeper is on duty from his converted warehouse.

The River Trent with the old winch which pulled engine-less vessels into the basin.

 

The river lock and keepers cottage.

 

1798 warehouse, now the lock-keeper’s office.

 

A busy basin.

 A few boats were moored up on the first stretch of the canal. The towpath surface to Misterton has recently been improved and there are benches at regular intervals, that’s a good start.  The May Blossom was a delight, often lining both sides of the water, the theme of the day really. The sun was shining and the wayside flowers vying for attention. Life outside Lancashire was good.

The start of the canal.

Alongside Misterton, swans had made their nest on the towpath side, apparently if the male is on the path you had better turn around. Today he was too busy chasing ducks that came near the female on the nest.

The brick bridges are all numbered, counting down from 85, and modern mileposts are in place counting down from 45. I don’t know if any of the original mile markers have survived.

Bridge 82 0f 85.

 

One mile gone, 45 to go.

The rest of the morning is spent out in open countryside with hardly a habitation to be seen. I chat with a couple of lady dog walkers who tell me about the wild life I may or may not see. Kingfishers and otters are at the top of the ranks. One stretch of reeds is full of the song of Reed Warblers, but I only catch a glance of them. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jgFDzVeyg94

The surrounding countryside is flat agricultural land as far as the eye can see, there is nothing here for the fellsman. Having said that I do pass at a distance Gringley-on-the-hill, an ancient village with far-reaching views. I can just spot its church tower on zoom.

Lunch is taken sat on the steps of Shaw Lock. On the adjacent bridge are the initials of the builder and date.  In a field nearby is an old brick works, boats brought coal in to a wharf and took the bricks out.

More wild woods and lush verges followed until I came to the mouth of Drakeholes Tunnel. Here the path goes over the top as did the horses whilst the boatmen pushed the barges through.

 

At the other end of the tunnel was a small wharf and across the road an Inn due to reopen soon, but will they still serve beer?

The next bridge along is named Face Bridge but the face on the keystone is very weathered. The bridge is ornate as it was the on the driveway to Wiseton Hall. The canal bends around the estate because the owner stated that it should not be built within 200 yds of the hall. The power of the upper classes.

 There had not been much traffic on the canal but in the last mile along comes a boat and two men paddleboarding.

I need to pay attention to the bridge numbers as I leave the canal at no. 68, Otters Bridge, to climb up to Clayworth and the end of my first day. I arrive just as the rain does.

*****

THE CUCKOO WAY. TWO.

THE CHESTERFIELD CANAL – WALKING THE CUCKOO WAY.

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The Cuckoo Way follows the towpath of the Chesterfield Canal for 46 miles, arguably one of the most beautiful and varied waterways in England.

The canal was designed by James Brindley but much of the work was by his assistant John Varley. The line, known locally as ‘Cuckoo Dyke’, opened in 1777, five years after Brindley’s death. It was at the forefront of canal design in its day with a multiple staircase lock flight and the longest tunnel in the country at Norwood. Originally extending 46 miles from the River Trent through Worksop and Retford to Chesterfield. Along the way it negotiated two tunnels and a combination of narrow gauge and broad gauge locks. A decision was made for the canal to be narrow from Chesterfield to Retford, but on a larger scale between Retford and the River Trent to accommodate wider-beam river traffic along that section.

Throughout the 19th Century the canal was very successful, carrying coal, agricultural goods, bricks, iron, timber, pottery and ale. Its most famous cargo was 250,000 tons of stone from local quarries which were used in the construction of the Houses of Parliament. The original cuckoo boats, all horse-drawn, were unique to the canal. Most boat trips were short, this meant that there was no requirement for overnight accommodation and hence no, or only a small, cabin or shelter. The “traditional” canal art was also missing.

The advent of the railways brought a gradual decline that was compounded in 1907 by a collapse in Norwood Tunnel. Although some trade did continue on the canal, the last recorded commercial cargo was in the 1960s. A sizeable section between Stockwith and Worksop remained navigable. In 1976 the Chesterfield Canal Society, now known as the Chesterfield Canal Trust, was formed and restoration completed of the Worksop to Norwood and Staveley to Chesterfield sections. The path apparently follows close to the original line of the canal on the remaining unrestored section.

The Cuckoo Way has the making of an interesting and varied walk in a part of the country I hardly know. Maps and a guide are available from the Canal Trust. After all our problems with the Covid pandemic and the resultant restrictions it is perhaps time I ventured farther afield – so here I go on an easy ‘expedition’ to get me started.

*****

.

THE CUCKOO WAY. ONE.

CONNECT FOUR ON THE CANAL.

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Saturday,  April 24th.      7miles.      Ellel.

I am just beginning to connect up with friends I’ve not seen for months. D and P had arranged a walk with Mike, and they invited me along. I mentioned I’d not visited Ellel Grange estate, close to where I was walking with Sir Hugh last week. I drove round and round looking for our rendezvous spot at Thurnham Church, is it coincidence that Denise’s walks often start at an RC Church?

The church of St Thomas and Elizabeth was consecrated in 1848 and had links with the Dalton family in nearby Thurnham Hall. In the grounds is a mausoleum for the Gillow family, well known local furniture makers, it has elaborate Egyptian columns on one side only. In front of the church is an eroded C19 cross recovered from nearby Cockerham Abbey.

We moved on. The day promised more sunny and warm weather. Along a farm track D and P commented on a new house that wasn’t here a couple of years ago when they last passed.

Fields, thankfully now dry, were crossed towards the Ellel Estate. We detoured up a hill for a view of the Italianate hall with its towers and extensive gardens. It was built in the 1850s for an ex-mayor of Liverpool and has been recently used as a religious retreat, but see below.

Our next objective was a view of Kings Lee Chapel  a Victorian gothic church designed by Joseph Hansom who also designed the impressive St. Walburge in Preston and the Hansom Cab. The church is closed and has been subject to vandalism. If I had been alone I would have been tempted to approach closer up the drive.

Apparently the whole site is for sale with plans for yet another holiday complex. Some estate buildings are already used as holiday lets.    https://www.lancastervision.com/holiday-village-100-bed-hotel-and-vr-experience-plan-for-lancaster-revealed/

We left the estate over their balustraded canal bridge and had a pleasant stroll along the Lancaster Canal.

At the junction with the Glasson canal we took a break outside the lockkeeper’s cottage on a suitable bench. D unexpectedly produced four sandwich buns out of a hat for us.

Onwards though Galgate we eventually left the canal by a path across a field of probably 100 cows. A hill gave us views of the bay and distant Lakeland hills. We took to the road around Condor Green where the old Stork pub is needing renovation.

The little café on the old railway line was doing good business with cyclists and walkers using the route between Glasson and Lancaster. Using the railway track bridge we crossed the creeks looking forlorn at low tide.

From the number of people we had passed we expected Glasson to be very busy, so we cut through to the canal by  Christchurch. There was a little fête on, and I came away with some thick cut marmalade which has turned out to be delicious. We were now on the Glasson branch canal which links to the Lancaster canal by a series of locks. This section seemed to be popular with nesting swans.

I did a series of walks up the Lancaster Canal with D and P back in early 2018 where there is lots more information. https://bowlandclimber.com/2018/01/09/the-lancaster-canal/

We left the canal and climbed fields back to Thurnham Church from where a cavalcade of cars made their way to a nearby garden for more socially distanced but connected refreshments.

*****

 

AN AFTERNOON AROUND BARNACRE.

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Monday 26th Oct.  5.5miles.  Barnacre.

I was kicking myself by lunchtime today. The forecast was for rain but there was hardly any and now the sun was shining. Could easily have had a meet up with friends for a day’s walk. My new boots haven’t arrived yet, tomorrow?, so walking in trainers I need to stay on dry ground which is difficult around here at the moment. A cursory look at the map and I had inspiration for a quick afternoon’s outing on lanes around Barnacre, a rural area to the south and east of Garstang.

In less than half an hour’s drive I’m parked by another deserted looking pub, the Kenlis Arms.  originally  an 1856 hunting lodge,

The walk itself is on quiet lanes on the edge of the Bowland Hills passing a few farms and lots of sheep.

White sheep of the family.

My first real  objective is the Church of All Saints, yet another designed by Austin and Paley of Lancaster, 1905. Set in a peaceful woodland area its red roof stands out across the fields and its tower is castle-like. A lane takes me down to cross the motorway and main railway line.

Forge Lane passes the old forge where the family are splitting logs with a hired machine, looks great fun.

The lane continues down to a ford on the swollen Wyre but fortunately there is a nearby footbridge. This whole low-lying area is part of the local flood defences when water can be diverted into the fields to reduce the flow downstream. I walk through the Millennium Green past the hydraulic weirs for controlling the flow of the Wyre. It must be quite a sight to see the floodplain filling up. I’ve been this way before on The Wyre Way.

Millennium Green with a misty Nicky Nook in the background.

A diversion into Garstang’s High Street highlights several interesting buildings.

The old grammar school, C18th.

The old Town Hall. 1760.

I walk over the twin arched bridge on the Wyre and a little later drop down to the Lancaster Canal for about a mile of quiet towpath back to my car.

Garstang Castle.

A walk snatched from nothing and dry feet at the end of it.

*****

 

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WALK. 13. Ulverston and Conishead Priory.

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                                                            Chapel Island Leven Estuary.

I avoided crossing the Leven Estuary sands by taking the train from Cartmel to Ulverston.  In the estuary is Chapel Island. In the 14th century, Augustinian monks from  Conishead Priory built a small chapel on the island to serve the needs of travellers using the ancient crossing from Cartmel to Conishead.

But first, a little tour of Ulverston.

The station was designed by the renowned Lancaster architects Paley and Austin for the Furness Railway in 1873. This railway was independently operated between 1846 and 1923, originally conceived as a mineral line supplying iron ore to Barrow, but soon passengers were using the service from Carnforth to Barrow and beyond. Prior to this, the only road to the area crossed those treacherous Morecambe Bay tidal sands. The station itself is red sandstone with some ornate metal and glass awnings. Inside the waiting room are two original cast iron seats with the squirrel motif from the Furness Railway. The crest of the railway was based on Furness Abbey’s seal. Interestingly, throughout Ulverston are placed 50 seats, all numbered, based on the same design donated by Glaxo to commemorate 50 years of production in the town.

The most celebrated statue in town is of homeboy Stan Laurel with Oliver Hardy and a dog. It was unveiled by Ken Dodd in 2009.      ” Well, here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten me into !” Ulverston’s maze of streets has many fine Georgian and Victorian listed buildings. The market area appears to have lots of small independent shops that attract tourists and locals alike, not to mention the many old inns.

Close to the centre is the run-down Hartley’s Brewery, closed in 1991 after 236 years brewing, bought by Robinsons and production transferred to Cheshire. Nearby is Oddfellows Hall in an old church with a link to Furness Abbey. Looking up as you walk through the streets, there is the sight of a 100ft monument on Hoad Hill. Built in the style of a lighthouse in 1850 to commemorate Sir John Barrow, born in Ulverston and a founder member of the Royal Geographical Society. Walking down the elegant curving Sunderland Terrace brought me to the basin of the Ulverston Canal. This straight mile and a half canal was opened in 1796 to transport iron ore, shipbuilding was also an important trade based on the canal. The stroll down the canal was a popular walk this morning with the locals. Along the way are large metal sculpture relating the history and several of those numbered blue seats.

Glaxo seat number one.

Halfway down was the rusting rolling bridge, a complicated structure that carried a rail line into the ironworks but could be rolled aside to allow ships to pass. It was on the site of the ironworks, closed in 1938, that Glaxo began producing antibiotics in 1948 and whose large factory dominates this end of Ulverston.

At Canal Foot are the sea locks and access across to the Bay Horse, an old coaching inn from when the route was across the sands. A bridleway sign pointing to the sands and sea states, “This route has natural hazards”,  an understatement. There are views across the sands to Cartmel with the Leven Rail Viaduct. Down the estuary is Chapel Island mentioned above.

A detour around the Glaxo works and on past the slag heaps from the ironworks, and I was on a pebble beach opposite Chapel Island. Permissive paths ran from the beach into woods, the grounds of Conishead Priory. Conishead was originally founded by the  Augustinians in the C12th as a hospital for the poor and was a priory until Dissolution, nothing is left of it now. The present Gothic building dates from 1821 and was built for a Lancashire family, the Braddylls. The house passed through several hands before, in the thirties, being used as a Durham Miners convalescent home. It was sold on and fell into disrepair before being purchased in 1975 by a Buddhist community, who have slowly carried out restoration. There is a lively cafe and a shop on the ground floor.

In the grounds of the house, the Buddhists have built a modern ‘Peace Temple’. Prayers were in progress, so I didn’t go inside. My curiosity satisfied, I walked back along the road into Ulverston, with the Hoad Monument as a constant beacon ahead of me.

*****

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WAY. 10. Lancaster to Carnforth.

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                                                                 Morecambe Bay.

Another day snatched from Winter.

In his guide, John Covey follows the Lancaster Canal from Lancaster to Carnforth. That is a route I’ve walked often in the past so I decide after exploring Lancaster to follow the Lancashire Coastal Way instead.

Covey details a Lancaster Friary,  a Dominican community of preachers. [1260 until dissolution] There is no trace of any building now.

He also mentions St. Leonards Hospital established in the C12 as a leper hospital later having a church and chaplain for the poor. It closed in 1470 and all trace has gone.

Gardiner’s Hospital was established as an almshouse in St. Mary’s Gate near the castle around 1485. These almshouses were rebuilt in 1792, eventually to be sold in 1938 and the site built upon. To replace them, four almshouses were built in Queen Street. At last, I had something to seek out and find. On the way, I came across the Friends Meeting House, a Quaker building dating back to the Friends Meeting House, a Quaker building from 1708. That set me musing in this election week. would the Quakers be the ‘Greens’ of religion? what of the rest?  RC’s – Tories, CofE – Labour, Methodists – Lib Dem. We will know our fate tomorrow.

Also in central Lancaster, I already knew of the Penny Almshouses. William Penny, several times mayor, gave funds in 1715 to build 12 small houses and a chapel for ‘poor indigent ancient men and women’. They received a house, an allowance, a suit of clothes and the services of a chaplain. The plaque over the entrance records Penny’s generosity and warns in Latin, ‘profanos hinc abesse’ – those of ill-repute should keep away.  Next door,  the Assembly Rooms were built in 1759; income from events helped support the almshouses.

On my way up past the castle, I noticed another property – ‘served as a dispensary providing health care for the poor, 1785 -1833’  Lancaster has been very charitable in the past.

My object of climbing up here was to visit Lancaster Priory Church. A Benedictine priory was founded around 1094 on the elevated site, about the same time as the castle was being established on an old Roman Fort. The remains of the priory are under the Church, which was built in the C15. Becoming a parish church it avoided destruction in the Dissolution. Inside are the celebrated carved choir stalls with their misericords from 1340, two sets of impressive organ pipes, along with some beautiful stained glass.  From up on the hill, the site of the Roman Fort, a path led down and passed close to the Roman Baths.

All I had to do now was walk a dozen miles to Carnforth.

The Millennium Bridge was right in front of me, and I crossed the Lune to pick up a cycle path all the way to Morecambe. The views across to St George’s Quay had the Priory high above and a crooked house squashed in below. There was not much to see on this straight route, so I made good progress and was suddenly in front of the Midland Hotel. No, I didn’t go in for coffee. I saved that till a little later at the Lighthouse Cafe, a community cafe with a comprehensive menu. Whilst I ate toasted teacake [homage to my good friend Tony] I gazed out at Eric Morecambe bringing me some sunshine on the prom. Unfortunately, when I emerged from the cafe, the rain came down and had me scurrying for my waterproofs, which once donned, of course, the rain stopped for the day.

The promenade went on for what seemed like forever, with a few installations to distract one. Suddenly, I was free of roads and walking on the shoreline. Stoney and muddy in equal proportions. The tide was out, but following all the recent rainfall, the marshes were very boggy.  Views across Morecambe Bay were obviously extensive b,ut the background hills came and went. Ahead was the prominent but diminutive Arnside Knott.

At Red Bank Farm, busy with visitors to the cafe, I came across The Praying Shell statue carved in limestone above the sands where 23 Chinese cockle pickers died in 2004.   Artist Anthony Padgett has said a link may be made to that tragedy, but the idea was conceived before.          “Its symbolism is intended to parallel humanity’s openness to a larger dimension and the way cockle shells open as the tide comes in.” Another couple of miles of marshland with lots of channel hopping where there was no distinct path, probably underwater at high tide. I climbed to higher ground in one or two places. I must admit to being uneasy in tidal areas. The Keer Channel was a muddy mess. I finally hit solid ground on the little road running alongside the Keer and realised I’d been here before with Sir Hugh on our Way Of The Crow Walk between Longridge and Arnside. That was a very wet day 2 years ago.

I had a brief encounter with Carnforth Station before catching my train.

*****

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WAY. 9. Cockerham to Lancaster.

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                                                         Lancashire Coastal Way.

It is strange weather – one day of wind and rain, the next bright sunshine and then more rain. I take my chances on a sunny day. I’ve moved on to the northern part of Lancashire’s Monastic Way by John Convey, I may think about a link-up from Sawley at a later date. It is a clear morning with a chilly wind coming off the sea as I walk down the lane to  St. Michael’s Church, an Anglican Parish Church in Cockerham. Of course, it is closed when I arrive. The oldest part is the C16 tower. The body of the church was rebuilt by the Lancaster architects Austin and Paley.  who were responsible for much church architecture from the mid 19th century. Cockerham Priory from the C13 was situated hereabouts, but there are no remains from when it was dissolved in 1477.

Soon, I was on The Lancashire Coastal Way following flood defences, surrounded by low-tide marshes around the coast to visit Cockersand Abbey. The obvious remains are the C13 Octagonal Chapter House with a few other bits of walls from the Abbey Church. There had been a hospital on the site, which was dissolved in 1539. The land was subsequently acquired by the Daltons from Thurnham Hall, and the Chapter House used as a mausoleum, hence its preservation today. It is a bleak spot for an Abbey.

Out in the Lune estuary is the Plover Scar Lighthouse, also known as the Abbey Lighthouse, an active 19th-century lighthouse now fully automated. The last time I was along here, the lighthouse was being repaired following a collision with a commercial vessel. Nearby on the coast is the original lighthouse keeper’s cottage. The lighthouse can be reached at low tide, and in the past, the keeper would have had to attend to the paraffin lamps.

After Crook Farm, I followed what had been Marsh Lane, which disappeared under flood water at one point. Wet socks resulted.

But soon I was seated outside the friendly Glasson Cafe enjoying a coffee and pasty.

The marina was quiet at this time of year; I joined the Glasson Branch canal, which, when it was completed in 1825,  joined the Lancaster Canal near Galgate. Then, in 1883, came the railway to link to Lancaster, it was on this disused line I would continue the walk. But first, I had a look at Christ Church alongside the canal. This Anglican Parish Church was designed by Edmund Sharpe, who became involved with the Lancaster firm of Austin and Paley mentioned above. Originally built in 1840, but added to in the 20th century. I walked in to find that the west gallery has been converted into an accessible coffee/reading room. The stained glass in the east window was impressive, designed by Joseph Fisher [1979] of the Lancaster firm  Shrigley and Hunt. 

Returning to the Railway track, I crossed the River Condor and headed north, easy walking with views across the Lune estuary. To my right were the grounds of Ashton Hall, now a golf course. I could not see the hall, which was established in the C14, a tower apparently is from that date. The hall has had many owners, but in 1884 was sold to the wealthy linoleum manufacturer, James Williamson, who, when he was knighted, took the title Lord Ashton. With reference to today, he arranged to have a halt built on the railway line I’m walking on. After his second wife’s death, he had the Ashton Memorial built in Williamson Park, an elevated site seen from afar and later today.

River Condor.

Ashton Hall Golf Course.

Along the line, the hedges were loaded with red berries, no wonder lots of birds were about, Redwings and Fieldfares. A solar farm has been built near Stodday, they must have more sunshine here than the rest of Lancashire. The climb away from the line up to Aldcliffe was steeper than expected. I was now heading directly into Lancaster along the Lancaster Canal, a route I’ve used before.

Today, I had time to leave the canal and take a look at the nearby Lancaster Cathedral. In 1791, when the Roman Catholic Relief Act was passed,  local Catholics built a mission in Dalton Square. When a larger church was needed, local architect Paley designed this church for the present site, which was consecrated in 1859 and became a cathedral in 1924. The tower and spire are 240ft high, making it visible throughout the city. The interior was impressive, but with too many fussy side chapels. Some of the stained glass was by Shrigley and Hunt, mentioned at Glasson. Unfortunately, I found a lot of the information preachy; I can appreciate the stunning architecture without being religious.Time to catch my bus.

                    Lancaster with the Ashton Memorial, Cathedral and Town Hall.

*****

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WAY. 4. Longton to Preston.

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The Ribble Way.

I’m late setting off today, and my bus gets me into Longton just before 12, but I only have to walk back to Preston on The Ribble Way. As I arrive on the route, having walked down Marsh Lane, another walker appears and asks about the whereabouts of the RW. I know where he went wrong, as the signage was very poor. We walk down the lane to join the riverside way, it turns out he is in training for a long Camino route next year. To be honest, there is not a lot of interest in this flat, featureless stretch, so we fall into step and conversation. Having cycled the Camino from Le Puy-en-Velay in France to Santiago de Compostela, I took great interest in his plans and pledged to support his chosen charity. Today, he was planning to pick up the Guild Wheel at the docks, but hadn’t realised there was no bridge across the Ribble until Penwortham – thus giving him some extra training. Along the way, I pointed out on the far bank the dug out Ribble Link enabling a link-up from the Lancaster Canal to Leeds-Liverpool Canal and the rest of the system. I’m not sure how often it is used, as you need a pilot boat to take you down the Ribble to enter the Douglas. The entrance to Preston Docks was passed without a bridge. The tide was out and the river did not look its best.

The Ribble Link.

Preston Docks entrance.

Past Penwortham Golf Club, we entered a parklike space which was the former Penwortham Power Plant, demolished in the 80s. I realised I needed to leave the river to seek out the monastic sites above, Penwortham Priory, so we went our separate ways, and I wished him the best with his efforts. I climbed out into Castle Walk, there was a Norman ‘motte and bailey castle’ hereabouts until 1232. The castle was built to control a ford across this important waterway. I marched around Castle Walk until directly below the present church, but the developers had defended it well there was no way through. Backtracking, I encountered several ‘Priory’ road names all related to a Benedictine priory and subsequent mansion situated here until demolition in 1920. All is now new housing. [One of my climbing friends lived in Priory Crescent until recently; he has made a good choice by moving to France.]

No way through.

Around the corner was St. Mary’s Church, which I approached down an avenue of trees. Nearby was the base of a stone cross for which I can find no information. The prominent Lych Gate was surprisingly locked, a less-than-welcome sight; nonetheless, I worked my way around into the extensive graveyard. Somewhere is the tomb of John Horrocks, the noted C18 Preston cotton manufacturer.  The church itself dates back to the 15th century. To the north of the church is the mound on which the Castle was probably built.

The river was just below, but the defences, present-day wire fences, were impregnable until I found a chink in the armour and escaped onto the river embankment, thus saving a long walk out on the busy road. Now back on the Ribble  Way, I was aiming to cross the river on the ‘old Penwortham bridge’; there are newer bridges downstream. A cobbled way took me over to the north bank.  Alongside the old bridge are the remains of a dismantled railway bridge; this was the former West Lancashire Railway from Southport leading to its terminus at the bottom of Fishergate Hill. Nearby, one of the cottages is named Ferry House, suggesting the presence of a ferry before the bridges were constructed. Ahead was the present mainline rail bridge, and seen beyond it, the redundant East Lancashire Railway bridge previously bringing trains from Blackburn into platforms alongside  Butler Street goods yard, which is now The Fishergate Shopping Centre. So that is three rail bridges entering Preston from the south.

The two C19 parks, Miller and Avenham, offer a wonderful recreational facility on the edge of central Preston and have been smartened up in recent years. I managed to get lost in roadworks on East Cliff and reappeared in the rail depot alongside the station. I’d only been walking for 3 hours.

Miller Park.                                                                                                 

Within Preston, Convey mentions three other religious sites which are not visited, saving me some legwork.

Preston Friary, in what is now Marsh Lane,  was established in 1260. Friars were different from monastic orders in that they spent their time in the local community preaching and engaging in missionary work.

Tulketh Priory, a Cistercian abbey established in 1124, but moved to Furness soon after. Tulketh Hall was built on the site and demolished in 1960 to make way for housing.

St. Mary Magdalen’s hospital for lepers,1177, run by monks. Its chapel became a site of pilgrimage until the Dissolution. St. Walburge’s church was built on the site. This church is famous for its 309-foot steeple, seen from all the surrounding areas. The notorious Fred Dibnah’s last job was working on this steeple back in 2004.

A distant view of St. Walburge’s steeple.

*****

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WAY. 2. Burscough to Rufford.

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                                                                            Glorious Lancashire.

My day starts rattling along on the NothernRail train to Burscough. The morning mist is lifting off the fields, and blue skies promise a good day. I’m starting a loop around this unfamiliar area, hoping to spot more religious sites than on my first outing on this Lancashire Monastic Way. One of the first streets I turn down in suburban Burscough is Chapel Lane  – a good start. And yes, there at the end is the C19 church. Next to it is the rebuilt Burscough Hall Farmhouse, which dates from the early C16/17 and where services took place before the church was built.

The hoar frost defines the path across marshy ground whilst giant diggers joist on a nearby landfill site, all very romantic.

I’m aiming for the remains of Burscough Priory, in a private garden, but visible in the winter months – just.

The priory was established in the late C12. and followed the Augustine order, named after St. Augustine of Hippo, an early Roman African theologian. Apart from being a religious institution, the priory looked after the needy and the traveller until its dissolution. All that remains are two massive Gothic pillars from the central church tower.

Next door is a large residential caravan site where this unusual car was seen ? self-built cross between a Nissan and a 2CV.  From the sublime to the ridiculous.

On the corner of the lane is Cross House, and there is the base of an ancient cross suggesting a pilgrim route.

Along the lanes that I followed through the Lathom estate were these two cottages – the cruck-framed farmhouse…

…and a Keeper’s Cottage, 1868 in the Jacobean Style…

More of the Lathom Estate followed across the road at a gateway to the estate, where there are two octagonal gatehouses, one occupied and the other up for sale.

The gates themselves have very ornate stonework…

My main objective was the Lathom Park Chapel, established in 1500 by Lord Stanley, 2nd Earl of Derby, from benefits received after the Battle of Bosworth. It escaped suppression at the Dissolution of the monasteries. Attached are some delightful almshouses.

Nearby, in fields below the remaining west wing of Lathom Hall, was a nostalgic remembrance statue. Let us not forget…

This has a particular significance as the Lathom Estate played a key role in the British war effort during the First World War as a Remount Depot. Lathom offered his land so that horses and mules could be prepared for their duties at the front line. Horses came to West Lancashire from all over the world. After unloading, they  ‘drove on the hoof’ through the country lanes to Lathom. The park was divided into ‘squadrons’ of 500 horses, each with its own superintendents, foremen and 150 grooms. The War Office statistics indicate that between September 1914 and November 1917, 215,000 horses and mules passed through Lathom Park. A recent stone memorial was dedicated to these forces.

I found a way out of the estate on an unmarked path…

… to yet another war memorial to Lathom residents…

I was not looking forward to the walk alongside the busy B5240, but it soon passed, and I came across a few interesting properties of unknown origin.

I was then back on the Leeds Liverpool Canal with a long-distance view of Ainsworth Mill, a mid-C19 steam-powered corn mill conveniently located next to the canal.

I was soon at the junction with the Rufford branch, my way ahead, which leads to the River Ribble and the Ribble Link to the Lancaster Canal.

After the top lock, I came face to face with a blocked towpath; they were replacing the railway bridge over the canal ahead. A massive crane was being used to lift sections of the bridge, and there was obviously no way I could sneak through. However, a little lateral thinking and a few fences climbed had me back on my way.

The flat fields hereabouts are perfect for growing turf, and I watched a clever machine ‘harvesting’.

Fast walking followed along the towpath towards Rufford. I was surprised to see in the far distance the Bowland Fells, Longridge Fell and Pendle. Winter Hill was a little closer.

I crept past these sleeping swans and went through the stone bridge circle.

As you arrive in Rufford, there are busy marinas on either side of the canal.

I had time before my train to look at the Church of St. Mary the Virgin, built in 1869 on the site of a 1736 Chapel. The church was closed, and I wandered around the graveyard looking for a C11 preaching cross. Luckily, a churchwarden appeared from nowhere and pointed out the said cross base [with an incongruous addition] along with a mass grave from when the church was extended. He pointed out one more gravestone with the words  Richard Ally  Bassoon
The inscription was a reminder of the time when the choir, stationed in the west gallery, sang Psalms to the accompaniment of Instruments of Music, which included a bassoon,  played by Richard Alty. Apparently, the said bassoon is preserved in a case in the church – I wish I’d had time to see it. Inside the church are also several monuments to the Hesketh family, closely associated with the nearby Old Rufford Hall.

Bassoon player.

‘Mass grave’

‘Preaching cross’

I caught my train and was back in Preston before dark.

*****

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WAY 1. Upholland to Burscough.

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Stunning Dean Brook.

A train to Wigan, a bus ride, and I’m in West Lancashire armed with my latest walking guide, A Lancashire Monastic Way. Not the best of starts – my first monastery, the remains of Upholland Priory, is a wall in the car park of the local Conservative Club.

I was exploring the grounds of St. Thomas the Martyr Church in Upholland. The church grounds were extensive, and I’m always amazed by the number of graves in some of these old churches. In fact, there were so many graves that the stones have been used to pave the area around the building. The Benedictine monks established a priory here in 1319. Monasteries served as hospitals, schools, and places of refuge for the needy and homeless, but by the Dissolution, the priory here was only helping two elderly individuals and two schoolchildren. The chancel of the priory became the nave of today’s Parish Church, and the rest of the monastery dispersed, apart from that wall. Due to my early start, I was unable to see the interior of the church, which apparently has a window made from medieval glass found in the ruins.

As this is a ‘Monastic Way’, I’d better educate myself on the Dissolution of the Monasteries.

The Dissolution of the Monasteries was a process instituted by Henry VIII  between 1536 and 1541, when monasteries, priories, friaries and convents were appropriated by the Crown.  Henry wished to divorce his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, for failing to give him a male heir. The Pope refused to grant the divorce, so Henry established the Church of England, breaking from Rome along with the Reformation throughout Europe. Apart from religious changes, the idea was to increase the income of the Crown. Much monastic property was subsequently sold off to fund Henry’s military campaigns in France and Scotland. The gentry and merchants, Henry’s sympathisers, who bought the land, prospered.  At the time, there were nearly 900 religious houses in England, housing thousands of monks, nuns, and friars. The majority of these were given money or pensions.   Some abbots refused to comply and were executed, their monasteries destroyed. The fabric of English society was changed almost overnight.

Back to the walk  – a lot of cottages in the surrounding streets appeared quite ancient, one in particular. Derby House, with mullioned windows and the Stanley ‘eagle and child’ crest, 1633.

The usual suburban, hemmed-in paths led to a deserted golf course and out into fields with a misty view across the flat landscape to Winter Hill. A ravine appeared alongside the track, and I dropped down to the water below, Dean Brook. All was autumn colours and splashing waters, a joy for the next mile or so. At one point, I climbed out of the valley only to drop back down to a muddier path crisscrossing the Brook. A hidden, unexpected gem that makes these walks memorable. The Brook discharges into the River Douglas, where I have a little detour under the motorway and railway at Gathurst to join the Leeds-Liverpool Canal. The Douglas rises on Winter Hill and goes into the Ribble estuary near Tarleton. Back in 1794, it was made navigable between Wigan and its mouth for small boats mainly carrying coal. It was soon superseded by the Canal opened in 1783, although apparently the remains of several locks can be found on the way to Parbold. The Navigation Inn here has suffered the ignominious name change to The Baby Elephant.

River Douglas.

I’m on the towpath for the rest of the day, and once under the motorway and railway into open countryside. I had to think which direction I was going in. Several swing bridges in varying states of repair were passed, the minor ones still giving access to farmers ‘ fields. I was welcomed into West Lancashire, although I thought I was already there.

Once past Appley Bridge, there were double locks built to speed transit when the traffic was heavy, now only the one is in use. On the map nearby is Prior’s Wood Hall, a C17 listed building with possible associations with  Upholland Priory; I am kicking myself for not diverting to see it.

At the next stone bridge, a cobbled lane goes between cottages to reveal a stone cross marking the site of Douglas Chapel. There was a chapel on this site from the C13, rebuilt in 1420, possibly by the Knights Hospitallers as a Catholic place of worship. It continued in service until 1875 when its replacement, Christ Church, higher in Parbold, was consecrated. Around that time, it was demolished and its pulpit and font moved to the new church. I  found some old pictures before demolition, notice the wooden pews. Further along the canal, Parbold was bustling with a cafe and pub alongside an old windmill, built at the time of the canal, now an interesting art gallery. Shortly afterwards, the River Douglas, which has been running parallel, goes off under the canal towards the Ribble. I caught up with these two…The countryside here is flat and fertile, and there was an almost surreal view across fields with the remains of the recent pumpkin crop. Nearby was the “Lathom Fish” by the talented Thompson Dagnall which provided a good seat for a brew.

Leaving the canal at the Ring O’Bells, I had a minute to spare before a bus arrived taking me to Burscough Junction, where my mad rush down the forecourt was watched by the guard of the waiting train; he kindly held things up until I’d collapsed aboard. Who says we can have trains without guards?

*****

WAINWRIGHT’S WAY – A KENDAL INTERLUDE.

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A Kendal snapshot.

Nick Burton’s book Wainright’s Way is far more than a walking guide as he incorporates so much well researched biographical detail of AW. Already I’ve have covered his early life in Blackburn which included a look at the town where he lived from 1907 – 1941.

Now having reached Kendal, where AW lived from 1941 until his death in 1991, Nick takes a short tour of the town pointing out places AW was associated with and I found much of interest on my stroll around. Kendal Civic Society has placed green information plaques everywhere marking historic buildings, far too many for me to mention here, all I can say is that Kendal is worth a days visit.  It was not a town I was particularly well acquainted with, in the past queuing through the main street on the way to and from the Lakes, now it is thankfully by-passed.  Visits to the climbing wall in an old milk processing mill on the outskirts gave no time for exploring the town and anyhow the traffic is awful and parking difficult.

Today I start above Kendal Green, a lovely open space, at the end of a culdesac where AW had a house built in 1949. He lived here with his first wife, Ruth, and then with his second, Betty until his death. Being elevated he had good views to the Kentmere Fells. What a contrast to Audley Range in Blackburn.

AW would walk down past Kendal Green on his way to work, this is a large open space with mature trees. Halfway down is a plaque commemorating an oak planted in 1864 to celebrate Shakespeare’s 300th birthday. I wasn’t sure that oak was still standing but there is a further plaque for one planted in 1964, 400 years since his death. The link is explained in the first plaque.

At the lower end, you arrive at Windermere Road where AW caught buses to the Lakes on a Sunday. Here also is the corner shop where he stocked up on pipe tobacco.

The long straight road into the town is  Stricklandgate leading to the distinctive Town Hall where AW worked from 1941 to 1967, becoming Borough Treasurer in 1948.

To get here I passed the  Library, Stricklandgate House, and ‘Wainwright’s Yard’ The latter a newly developed shopping arcade made more memorable by the present-day premises of Westmorland Gazette who published most of AW’s books.

The ‘yard’ is one of the dozens off the main street that at one time hosted small industries and shops, most have been altered over the years but all are numbered and can be located with a leaflet from the tourist information. One nearby is named Webster Yard after the architect who designed much of 19th-century Kendals’ prominent housing. Another is C17th Sandes Hospital built with wool money, it now encloses rebuilt almshouses designed by Webster’s firm. Apparently many of the properties AW would have known were demolished in the 1970s.

 

Sandes Hospital

I wandered into the back yard/garden of The Brewery, formerly a Vaux brewery and now an arts centre and Yough Hostel, and was delighted to see the Leyland clock which I’ve discussed in a previous post about the A6 over Shap.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Further on are some ornate gates that lead to Holy Trinity Church. Built when Kendal was prosperous from the wool trade it is one of the widest churches in the country with five aisles. What an amazing church.

There is the Old Grammar School and Abbot Hall and I’m on the banks of the Kent for a riverside walk. A small park had a plaque referring to K Shoes, once one of Kendal’s largest industries. Howard Somervell of Everest fame, 1920, belonged to the family running K Shoes and naturally wore Kendal-made boots on the mountain. Nearby is a record of historic flood levels.

MIller Bridge, Webster designed, was built in 1818 as part of a complex of warehouses serving the terminal basin of the Lancaster Canal. Aynam Mills were originally for the wool trade but in AW’s time were the premises of a well-known tobacco and snuff manufacturer, Illingworth’s. I became a little lost in the maze of lanes amongst all these warehouses, many being put to good use.

My route took me along an elegant Georgian terrace the home of the all-encompassing Kendal architect George Webster. A little further was another terraced area with an open space where the residents dry their clothes to this day.

I passed another church and then Castle Dairy one of the oldest occupied houses in Kendal. Apparently, the Elizabethan interior is worth viewing as part of a meal in the restaurant now in the building.

 

 

 

 

Round the corner is the town’s Museum where AW was heavily involved for the time he was in Kendal. It was closed today so I was not able to view a collection of Wainwright memorabilia.

Over the busy Victoria Bridge with associated sympathetic warehouse accommodations alongside the Kent. Ahead back on Stricklandgate was the third of Kendal’s parish churches. On the next corner are the premises of Titus Wilson, printers since 1860, AW’s first publisher.

It was now a short walk back up the side of Kendal Green.

Kendal is certainly worthy of further exploration.  I can appreciate it would be a good place to live and did I mention Kendal Mintcake?