Tag Archives: Long Distance Walks

THE SARSEN WAY 7. Amesbury to Salisbury.

Switchbacks to Sarum.

It’s a crisp, sunny autumn morning. Leaving town I cross the Avon by an old bridge and shortly afterwards cross it again. I must check the map to see what’s happening.

Up and down the downs again, why did I think it would be all flat today?

The first village, Great Dunford, was only a few houses and a church.

As usual, I make my way to the church, dating from the C10th with very little mdern ‘improvements’

But I am distressed to see dog s*** in the church aisle. Can you believe it? I had nothing to clear it up with and nobody was about in the village to report it to. Disgusting.

I again cross the Avon to arrive at the Bridge Inn just in time for a morning coffee.

Back on the east bank, past Little Durnford’s one house and then into the woods for some more undulations. The bridleway I am following is probably an ancient route across these downs. Ahead on the horizon the distinctive spire of Salisbury Cathedral made an appearance and was there for the rest of the day. At 404ft the tallest church spire in England. (Preston’s St.Walburge’s is the third tallest after Salisbury and Norwich)

Coming out of the hills I pass this delightful cottage, aren’t they all?

 And there in front of me is the earthworks of Old Sarum.

I didn’t realise it was so large. I have progressed from Barbury Castle to Avebury, and now the grandest of them all, Old Sarum.   Despite often visiting Salisbury and Stonehenge*, whilst I worked down in Bournemouth, I was unaware of the existence of this ancient Iron Age fort with its Medieval Castle and Cathedral.

The Iron Age hillfort was established here about 400 BC. It was then occupied after the Roman conquest of Britain when it became known as Sorviodunum.

William the Conqueror recognised  Old Sarum’s potential shortly after the Conquest in the C11th  A motte was constructed in the centre of the hillfort, and then an inner set of timber fortifications created an ideal army base.

The inner castle was established and a section of the bailey was selected as the site for a new cathedral in 1075. Old Sarum’s importance as an administrative base grew and the new cathedral became a religious and learned centre.

 In 1226 the cathedral was moved to nearby Salisbury, although the castle remained an administrative centre into the 14th century and then all was mostly abandoned.

  • (Stonehenge was accessible on foot from Amesbury but I had heard awful stories of overcommercialisation so I gave it a miss. There were so many other sites to be visited instead.)

   I first walk around the outer ramparts, sometimes on the ridge and others in the ditch, a mile circuit with the castle mound central to it all.

Some lovely beech trees have established themselves along the ramparts.

There is a short section of the wall that once guarded the outer ramparts.

I then examine the footprint of the old cathedral.

I reluctantly pay English Heritage to look around the inner castle, reached by a bridge where the old draw bridge had existed.You need an aerial image to realise the full extent of Old Sarum. 

 It is all well documented, and I enjoy the experience, but is it worth £6.50?

Back on track, the cathedral spire is coming closer. Chatting with dog walkers, I receive lots of advice as to the best way into town but I stick to the Sarsen Way and PAT signs to the end and enjoy a rural route, avoiding roads.

That is until I get involved with new flood defence and parkland improvements.

But by six o’clock, I was in the centre of town, only a few blocks away from the cathedral.

It certainly hits you in the eye when getting close up. As you have seen the original cathedral was located at Old Sarum, two miles away until it was decided to move it to Salisbury. Foundation stones for the new building were laid in 1220.  By 1258 the nave, transepts and choir were complete. The cloisters were added in 1240, and the tower and spire were constructed by 1330.

I am too late to go inside but enjoy the surroundings in the late afternoon sunshine. There are many American and Japanese voices around.

In the grounds was a statue by Elizabeth Frink set me off on a search which would lead me to the Swindon Art Gallery. I have admired her work at the Hepworth and YSP in the past.

This figure symbolises … human dignity and creativity over militarism and totalitarian disregard for human dignity and rights.’   Stephen Gardiner. Her tense but powerful presence exists beside the tourists and the worshipers.

I wanted to hold her hand at the end of my walk.

***

A convivial night was enjoyed at the Merchants House Hotel.

THE SARSEN WAY 6. Netheravon to Amesbury.

I can’t resist thatched cottages.

A series of small villages and churches along the Avon linked together by byways. My loss of the guidebook possibly means I walk on lanes more than necessary, but I make it to Amesbury, having enjoyed a shorter day.

I say my goodbyes to Swindon’s Travel Lodge and, carrying my worldly goods, walk up to the bus station for the last time. I need to choose a memorable mural for this last occasion.

She just wins over him…

In a more relaxed mood, I can take a later bus to Netheravon, where I finished yesterday. This morning, the little café/florist is open, so I can fuel up on coffee before departing. Whilst there, I witness an autumn floral display being created.

The River Avon is running high, but I am told by a resident that recent works to create bends and oxbows upstream have reduced the risk of flooding. The resident lives in this C16th cottage, the first of many I admire today.

Haxton, Figheldean, Ablington, Brigmerston, Milston, and Bulford all have their charms, with beautiful cottages and Saxchurches. The walking in between, often next to the Avon, is nice and flat for a change, not a down in sight.

 Church of St. Michael and All Angels. Figheldean

The owner of this house in Figheldean tells me he needs to have the ridge repaired every 10 years and the whole thatched roof every 20.  Finding the skilled people to undertake this and sourcing the materials is becoming more and more difficult.

Moving on….… the whole area is surrounded by MOD land. I never realised that the War Department was acquiring land way back in 1897 by compulsory purchase. At least it is back into community ownership now.

These puffballs were the largest I’ve ever seen, mobile alongside for scale.

Church of St. Mary. Milston.

The Avon is just over there.

St. Leonard’s Church.  Bulford.

My arrival into town is still green but noisy from the busy bypass. It must be difficult for route planners to navigate relatively traffic-free ways through urban landscapes. I have no prior knowledge of Amesbury, but I read it may have the oldest continuous occupation in the country. Also in the news at the moment is the investigation into the Salisbury Novichok poisonings from 2018. The intended victims, The Skripals in Salisbury, just escaped with their lives. But Ms Sturgess living at the time in Amesbury wasn’t so lucky with the ‘perfume’ she used.

Lord’s Walk.

Strange.

My hotel is in the middle of town opposite the Abbey Church  St. Mary and St. Melor. I have a look around it. Probably on this site since C9th, connected later to the town’s Abbey. The latter disappeared in the reformation, but the church survived for the local population. It remains an impressive building, Cathedral like.

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My cosy hotel has a Thai restaurant which I enjoy in the evening. I’ve done well for food this week.

***

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THE SARSEN WAY 5. Manningford to Netheravon.

High plains drifter.

The trudge to the bus station is a little damp this morning. This is how I feel –

But the rain stops before I alight from the bus at Manningford Bonhue. I know the start from yesterday and don’t miss the path leaving Wick Lane this time.  It is a strange start through an industrial site, part of the Manningford estate. The way is diverted well away from the manor house itself. I seem to be sharing my route with PAT – the Pewsey and Avon Trail, their waymarks come in handy.

Soon I am beside the River Avon, just a stream at this stage. It will be my companion for much of the way from now on. This Avon has nothing to do with Shakespeare or Bristol, I never realised this one eventually enters the sea at Bournemouth, despite having worked down there for some time.

A trout farm diverting the waters.

St. James church, dating back to the C13th, has a large yew growing alongside it. Farther on this is the most amazing hedge I’ve ever seen –

After the inn, I follow the river downstream, but most of the time it is hidden away in the vegetation.

When I cross it again into the little village of Upavon, it seems to have doubled in size.

Thatched cottages start appearing more often.  One in the village is having its ridge repaired.

The shop provides me with a morning coffee whilst I watch the village squirrel picking up morsels and then darting across the overhead wires. The day disappears quickly and I have only walked a couple of miles. Before I leave the village I spot yet another Sarsen Stone – this one commemorating  some jubilee or other. 

The route goes up onto Salisbury Plain, and I have in my mind only to follow it if the tops are clear. it doesn’t look that interesting. The tops are visible so I have to start the climb, which is all on the tarmac. Workers are digging a pit for pipelines, and all is white chalk. Photo opportunity missed there.

Higher, I’m looking down into a valley where a driven partridge shoot is taking place. Guns are becoming part of this holiday. I chat to a farmer who normally beats for the shoots hereabouts but is having a year off recovering from a shoulder operation. Thousands of partridges are bred each year. The customers today are scrap metal merchants, of all people, from the Thames Valley. They pay about £40 for each bird shot. My man is joining them for lunch and some heavy whisky drinking. Not my idea of a day’s fun. He excuses the slaughter by saying the victims are not native birds but red-legged ones from France.  Time to move on.

I reach the edge of the military’s training ground. The red flag is flying, but my way skirts the danger zone.
The road cuts through the ancient Casterley Camp, an Iron Age fort.

The views are extensive but mainly featureless, Salisbury Plain stretches a long way.

I don’t feel easy up here. usually revelling in wide open spaces, and I’m glad to descend away from the range. Is it the background shooting disturbing me?

A bonus on the way down is a clear view of a nearby tumulus. Man has been coming this way for centuries.

Confusion comes into play at Compton, no idea what is going on here and I can’t find my way.

Thankfully I am now back in the Avon Valley at Enford with its picturesque cottages to save the day.

The last mile is through fields to suddenly emerge into Netheravon 5 minutes after a bus has departed. I’m left with over an hour until the next. The little café is closed despite saying it is open and there are no free samples at the brewery.

I have time to walk to the church whose origins go back to Saxon times. The tower is the oldest part and is the most prominent feature. The massive arched doorway is closed, but I gain entry around the corner. Inside the church is plainly featured with the tall arches of the tower dominant.

The next bus arrives, and I doze my way back to Swindon. The mural that catches my eye is one by Martin Travers of the South American native environmentalist Nemonte Nenquimo.

***

THE SARSEN WAY 4. Avebury to Manningford.

A long rambling route with a few surprises along the way.

I’m exploring alone deep inside the W Kennett Longbarrow, the tomb of some ancient dignitary or religious leader when I sense the rhythm of drums. Is this some strange mysterious happening? The area is full of legends and fanciful spiritual occurrences,  try coming here at the Solcises. The sound of drums is growing louder by the second. Is there a hidden tape recording I’ve activated? All I can see at the deepest point, 30ft in, is a candle burning in a jar. I decide to get out, and once outside, discover the source of the mystic drumming – a merry group of modern pagans is heading up the hill with a drummer leading the way. My peaceful visit comes to an end, and I leave the barrow free for their ‘worshipping’.

Approach to the barrow.

Large sarsen stone.

Entrance.

Going in.

Deeper.

Farthest chamber.

The drummer approaches.

The West Kennet Long Barrow was built sometime around 3650 BC. Over a period of between 10 – 30 years, the bones of at least 36 individuals were carefully placed in the five stone chambers before they were closed. It probably continued to be an important place for many generations after that. It is part of a cluster of around thirty centred on Avebury”

***

Let’s tell it as it is, I’m doing this stage backwards. Manningford to Avebury.

 As you realise by now, I’m based in Swindon, at the functional Travel Lodge, and using buses to get me to and from the stages. This inevitably causes some anxiety

Is the timetable up to date? Do they run every day? Where is the bus stop? There is also some pressure on the day’s walking to avoid missing the last bus. I have had to endure, for me, some very early breakfasts in order to catch a suitably timed bus.

So it comes to today. Avebury is no problem but Manningford, or rather the Manningfords, there are three of them, all part of an ancient manor.  They seem to be in the middle of nowhere. The main road bypasses them, but there are bus halts along the way. It will be safer to be dropped off in the middle of nowhere than to try to find those stops at the end of the day. Avebury will have plenty of buses into the evening.

On top of ‘bus anxiety’, I’ve now added ‘phone-map battery anxiety’. Somewhere last evening, probably on the bus, I lost my precious Sarsen Way guidebook. I’m now relying solely on my phone for mapping, which I’m never completely happy about. I miss the chatty information from the guide as much as the detailed route instructions and OS mapping. I scribble a rough version of the map as a backup, let’s see how I get on.  ***

I choose a railway theme for this morning’s murals. Swindon was once the centre for building Great Western engines and rolling stock.

LukeGray depicts Brunel, one of the great railway engineers.

Another rail-themed mural takes my eye as I head for the bus station. This one was painted by Manchester artist Gavin Renshaw depicting a Castle Class locomotivefrom Swidon workshops.***

The X5, Swindon to Salisbury, goes my way. Alighting at a little bus shelter near Manningford Bohune. Someone has placed two chairs inside, I wouldn’t think many use this stop, it is as I said, in the middle of nowhere.

Thatched cottages start to appear as I walk up Wick Lane. I feel ‘down south’ at last. The walls have a lovely mix of flints and old bricks.

Still half asleep, I walk on too far and have to retrace my steps to find the almost hidden path over a wooden footbridge.

I’m the first to tread these fields this morning. I’m heading to the little St. Peter’s Church of Manningford Bruce. Built on a Roman site with evidence from the  C12th. It was restored in 1882  when most of the painted interior was added. The reredos screen from that era is particularly fine.

I slip out of the back of the churchyard and along a wall, guarding the Manor House.

There is some primaeval swamp to be crossed in the next half hour, all alongside the infant Avon. Difficult to navigate without the guidebook.

From time to time I hit a minor lane with those exquisite thatched properties.

A railway appears out of nowhere. Could it be the main SW line?

A little farther on I come across a standing Sarsen stone, marking Swanborough Trump where in 871, Alfred the Great (of the burnt cakes fame) met his brother, Ethelred,  on the way to fight the invading Danes,

I next find myself on the peaceful towpath of the Kennet and Avon Canal.  In a mile or so I only see one boat moving. High above on the Pewsey Downs, I spot another ‘White Horse’.

Coming off the canal onto a road, I notice a sign for a farm cafe, Honeystreet. A small cluster of outlets in an old sawmill. As well as the café there is an antiques unit and a crop ring centre! I just opt for a coffee and lemon drizzle cake. An unexpected treat.

The Saxon church of St. Mary down the road in Alton Barnes has a plain interior with the remains of some lime paintings.

Across the stream, by unusual wooden turnstiles, and connected by a Sarsen paved path, constructed in 1830  for the rector serving both parishes to keep his cassocks clean, is All Saint’s Church in Alton Priory.

The perpendicular tower dominates the surrounding fields. The barn-like interior has big rustic roof trusses and open timbering. The chancel arch is all that remains of the church’s Norman past. The church still contains Jacobean pews. There are two trap doors, which I fail to open, above ancient, ?pagan, Sarsen stones.

Trapdoor.

The yew tree in the grounds is 1700 years old. So the tree predates Christianity. can you imagine that?

I notice on the outer walls of the tower what look like musket shitholes. Has somebody in the past been having target practice?

Here is a video with more information about those trapdoors.

The two churches have survived but most of the medieval villages they served have disappeared.

Leaving Alton Priors I notice this sarsen stone embellished with a white horse.

An old sunken bridleway, an extension of the Ridgeway, known as ‘The Hollow’, starts the climb onto the downs. It doesn’t receive much footfall. Small but distinct animal tracks cross it regularly, I try to imagine the little creatures on their nighttime wanderings. Fallen crab apples crunch under my boots with a heady cider aroma.

Now, onto the open down, I make my own way to the top of Walkers Hill, at 262m possibly the highest point of the Sarsen Way. I miss the obvious path. All around are earthworks and dykes, but I fail to find ‘Adam’s Grave’, a long barrow. The views over the vast array of downs are possibly the best I have had, but I know so little of them. They do look good for striding out on. There is a car park down below, so I meet walkers for the first time today.

Walkers Hill, with the White Horse out left.

The summit views eastwards.

Is this Adam’s Grave or was it the summit itself?

Once down near the road, I’m soon going back up again for a long stretch over another down.  Somewhere I  cross the, probably Saxon, Wansdyke but fail to spot it, there are so many grooves, ditches and depressions around here. My virtual drone isn’t working.  In the woods descending, I have a close encounter with a princely Buzzard before it weaves away through the trees. Then on across Lurkeley Hill and through the folds of the downs to East Kennett.


Recognise this/

By the time I’m through the tidy hamlet of East Kennett, more thatched cottages, I’ve walked about 10 miles, but I want to complete the day by visiting the West Kennett Longbarrow farther to the west. I missed it when in Avebury yesterday. 

So back up the down I go, hoping to have the place to myself – I almost do.

***

Backtracking I hit the busy A4 through West Kennett. The bus halt, by an abandoned telephone box, doesn’t look used and I wonder about walking on to Avebury but a bus appears on schedule to take me back to Swindon via a change in bustling Marlborough.

***

***

This evening’s mural, unknitting the past?

It’s been a long day, so I just get a quick Indian meal in the friendly Chaat café, on the way to my hotel.

SEARCHING SARSEN STONES.

THE SARSEN WAY, Swindon to Salisbury.

First the scientific bit from a Gerald Lucy, (GeoEssex).

The story of how sarsens were formed starts in the Palaeocene epoch, about 55 million years ago, just after the extinction of the dinosaurs. At this time a thick layer of sand and gravel, known as the Reading Beds was laid down over much of southern England on top of the Chalk, and after it was deposited it was raised above sea level. This was around the end of the Palaeocene and the beginning of the Eocene epochs, which was a time of great warmth on planet Earth. During this time ground water containing dissolved silica (quartz) cemented patches of the sand into a tough layer of sandstone called a ‘silcrete’. This layer was extremely resistant to erosion but it eventually broke up into boulders. As the sands were washed away the silcrete boulders remained on the surface of the ground and these are known as sarsens.

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I receive regular newsletters from Cicerone Press, that wonderful guide book publisher. What popped up this week was a new guide to The Sarsen Way between Swindon and Salisbury in Wiltshire. Part of the The Great Chalk Way which runs from Lyme Regis, Dorset, to the Wash in Norfolk. The new guide traces a route through the Downs south of Swindon, visiting many of the pre-historic sites. Neolithic henges and Stone Circles, Bronze Age barrows, Iron Age forts as well as many village churches and I hope cosy pubs. I’m always looking for something new and not too challenging.

The route has been developed by The Friends of The Ridgeway who have long campaigned for the preservation of the ancient Ridgeway paths. It has made an appearance on the latest OS maps and is apparently waymarked on the ground, in some places sharing with other LDWs.

Apart from the larger towns, accommodation is thin on the ground. The ends of many stages have no suitable one night lodging. The fashion now is apartments or houses booked for a week, which are of no use to the backpacker. Several of the village pubs have the ridiculous two night minimum stay even mid week, and don’t have many vacancies. Its a popular area with the likes of Avebury, Stonehenge and Salisbury to visit. So as I did in the Lakes, the other week, I’m going  to town base and hopefully make use of the buses to move me around the county. Three nights in Swindon, three in Amesbury and the last in Salisbury.

The guide book also includes a shorter continuation walk to Shaftesbury, the Cranborne Droves Way, taking two to three days, with even more accommodation problems and convoluted transport logistics. Originally I planned to return from Salisbury to be home for my next cataract operation but that has been delayed so if the weather is good and I’m feeling fresh I may try and include the Droves Way.

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As I write this the TV has just given a weather warning for the south west. Thunder, lightning and heavy rain for a few days. I think I’ll postpone my trip for a little while.

PS. Thunderstorms and heavy rain have hit many parts of England and Wales since Friday, causing some disruption. Throughout Saturday and into Sunday morning, there were 13,000 lightning strikes recorded.

ULLSWATER WAY 4 – THE DALEMAIN LOOP.

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The Marmalade March.
I thought the talk of Marmalade was all a gimmick, but as you will see, it has a serious side.
The 9am bus drops me off in Pooley Bridge as usual. I cross the new bridge and follow the River Eamont downstream. I’m on what is called The Dalemain Loop of the main Ullswater Way. I have driven past Dalemain House many times but never stopped to visit. As part of my walk today, I hope to put that right. Dalemain Historic Mansion & Gardens

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The house opens at 10.30. I make good progress through the fields stopping only to chat to The Lakes National Park worker who is mending a gate fastener. Apparently, it is called a hunting latch. They have been used throughout this week’s walk on traditional wooden gates and are a delight to use. I don’t recall a single ‘modern’ galvanised one.

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At the house I manage to book one of the limited places on the first house tour of the day. Our lady guide is knowledgeable and entertaining. Photography is not allowed in the house. She tells us of the history of the house and the families who have owned it, It has been the family home to the Hasells since 1679. bringing us up to date with the present Hasell family, Robert and Jane Hasell-McCosh. Each room is full of portraits, collectables, and personal paraphernalia, with a story behind each one. Fascinating.

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From their website.

Time for a coffee and cake back in the tearoom. My ginger cake is glazed with Marmalade and the room full of jars containing exotic varieties of the preserve. ‘The World’s Original Marmalade Awards & Festival’ is held here annually in March. The story goes back 20 years, just after a serious outbreak of Foot and Mouth disease, which seriously affected this region. Jane the lady of the house decided on a local Marmalade competition, only a few dozen entered. Now, this has grown to thousands with money raised going to a local charity hospice, and the winner has their recipe marketed by Fortnum and Masons. I don’t think a jar of Marmalade would last long in my rucksack.P1090455P1090413

I spend some time looking around the extensive gardens, a bit late in the season to see it at its best, but there is still so much to admire. Terraces, knot garden, wild areas, massive Silver Fir, Sleeping Giant, Dragon Yew, beck side. All surrounded by the beautiful Cumbrian scenery.  P1090457

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Wow! that is some garden. Back outside I march on through their estate towards the village of Dacre. The rebuilt peel tower, ahead of me up the hill, belongs to the estate but is now a private dwelling.. The surrounding moat could just be made out. P1090527P1090526P1090531P1090533

There are a few cottages scattered around the village green, where the original stocks still stand. Up the lane is a welcoming looking Inn, The Horse and Farrier.

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I want to visit the church that has close connections with Dalemain House and its occupants. All the Hasell family being buried here. I fail to find their graves in the extensive burial grounds. But I do find three of the four stone ‘bears’ thought to be warding off evil spirits. I’m not sure of their antiquity or purpose.

The church is open, so I’m able to see the superb William Whitelaw stained glass. A piece of a Saxon cross is propped up in the chancel.

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Lanes go over a brow with the familiar views of Dunmalland and the hills at the head of Ullswater. Soon, I’m traversing a path within Dunmalland’s forest, I still haven’t seen a red squirrel on this trip.

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Back in Pooley Bridge, I make my pilgrimage to Verey’s for a browse at their books and an excellent coffee whilst waiting for the bus.
Before you know it, I’m relaxing in Witherspoon’s with a pint of Ennerdale Darkest, looking back over a long loop but another successful day.

ULLSWATER WAY 3 –  HOWTOWN TO POOLEY BRIDGE.

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The lower path.

On the way to the steamer I pass a walled terrace with the Birkett Memorial, it could have all been so different.

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The Lady of the Lake, launched in 1877, glides into the jetty at Pooley Bridge. An enthusiastic crowd buoyed by the perfect weather climb aboard.  The lake is mirror calm. Only a handful disembark at the Howtown jetty and all disappear into the surroundings.

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I go in search of The Howtown Hotel, which I used to frequent when we holidayed here with our young children.  Sadly, it is closed. But there is a nearby tea room  They tell me that the hotel may be booked in its entirety only, eight rooms.  Maybe a place for a family and friends celebration weekend! They have a lovely view from the garden.

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Anyway, I enjoy my coffee and get into conversation with a couple of cyclists from the North East. One always comes across a lot of northeasterners in this part of the Lakes . I meet more as the day goes on, all very friendly.

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It’s time to get walking . I’m already off route at the café so just follow the road up the hill to join the bridleway, traversing the fell side at about 200m under Bonscale Pike. I have to keep stopping to take in the views of familiar hills across Ullswater, especially up to the head of the lake. I watch the steamers and boats coming and going into Howtown Bay. What an idyllic setting. 

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The Ullswater Way comes up to join the track I’m on, and I pick up the daffodil waymarks. It was on the shores of Ullswater that Wordsworth apparently saw the daffodils that inspired his well-known poem.

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Shortly after, I’m faced with a choice – a higher route visiting the stone circle up on  Askham Fell or a lower route above the lake. I was around the antiquities before so I don’t feel guilty about choosing the lower route. Dunmallard at Pooley Bridge is getting closer, Sharrow Bay is down there somewhere, its famous hotel being refurbished at present.. One last look from ahigh up the lake.

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Now mainly through fields. There are a lot of very muddy sections, even at this time of year. A few farmhouses and derelict barns are passed on the way, I spot a chicken of the woods.

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Now, down on the road, I come to the entrance to Waterside House Camp Site. A massive endeavour. It is fairly busy with all sorts of campers, the attraction being its lake shore access. Paddle boarding seems to be the most popular pastime on the water.

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Dog walkers are out from Pooley Bridge, and for the last half mile, there is litter, which hasn’t been a problem elsewhere. The holiday atmosphere ramps up a notch.

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I’m early, so escape into the relative normality of  the Verey bookshop who also serve good coffee whilst I’m waiting for the bus back to Penrith. I resist book buying to a single one but make a mental note of lots more to seek out.

My after walk pint in The Dog Beck back in Penrith is an excellent Eden River Brew Co. Emperor IPA. Looking at the guide book I’m not finished with the Ullswater Way yet.

***

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ULLSWATER WAY 2 – AIRA FORCE TO HOWTOWN?

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The difficult stretch, but I do it in reverse.

We used to camp in Patterdale at Side Farm before the children were born, I have memories of a stressful walk with my wife. We had already climbed the hills behind the farm, Place Fell?, and ended up in Howtown for a meal and drink at the hotel. I dismissed her idea of catching the steamer back suggesting it would be a lovely walk back along the shores of Ullswater. Hours later we staggered back into camp. the way had been rough and difficult, seemed never ending and had tried our tempers. This was at the back of mind for this same section today. If I was slow could I end up in Howtown after the last steamer had departed? People with electric cars have developed ‘battery anxiety’ I was having steamer anxiety. So lets be safe – catch the steamer over to Howtown first and walk to Glenridding where there are frequent buses at the end of the day. That is why I’m queuing for the first steamer of the day, the Western Belle, leaving Pooley Bridge. What a contrast to  yesterday,  a wet and windy crossing  to Howtown.

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Dunmallard and Pooley Bridge disappearing into the gloom.


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Approaching Howtown with Waternook under Hallin Fell.

I head to the tea room for a coffee, alas too early – they are closed, as is the Hotel. I walk back down to the bay and pick up the Ullswater Way.

The path climbs above the white property of Waternook, which must have splendid views. 

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Open land covered in gorse follows before descending to the diminutive Geordie’s Crag. Outward Bound students are learning abseiling and being encouraged to jump from a height into the lake. No doubt all good fun.

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The landward side of Geordie’s Crag. 


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The steep jumping side.

The next section through the trees is difficult, rocky ground and an indistinct path on the steep slopes of Hallin Fell. Up and down to rocky bays. There are no daffodil waymarks to be seen. I miss the ‘poetry stones ‘ or rather I forget to look for them. As I come out of the woods, the views down the lake improve dramatically, coinciding with the day brightening up.

The holiday cottages at Beckside Farm, above Sandwich Bay, look idyllic for a secret getaway. More climbing and rocky terrain ensue, setting a pattern for the day.

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I am hoping the tea room in Lowther Barn will be in operation, but sadly not. I do, however, make use of their picnic area for my lunch. It’s a good spot to watch the steamers go by with yesterday’s Gowbarrow as a backdrop. 

Through the bracken, the path remains rocky, with Scalehow Force coming down from the slopes of High Dodd.

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Back into the woods, silver birch and oak. There are more people about now coming out of Patterdale, dog walkers, mainly.

I’ve turned a corner and have a differed view southwards down the lake to Glenridding with the Helvellyn range ahead. A rocky bluff  is a favourite viewpoint.  A lady is sketching the scene, far more creative than my point and shoot camera work.  Though she does complain about the ever changing light.

There is always some activity on the lake.

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A few more ups and downs, ins and outs, well a lot more actually, and I spot an ‘art’ installation, I haven’t done well with these so far. I’m not sure of its value artistically, basically just a plaque to tell you of the painters who found inspiration here. Also in the vicinity are some more of those posts with QR codes linking you to a painting of the scene in front of you. They seem a good idea but I struggled to get them to work. To browse these paintings look here https://www.ullswaterheritage.org/heritage-knowledge-bank/inspired-by-ullswater/virtual-art-gallery

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By now I reach the basic Side Farm camp site which I mentioned in my introduction. It is on the shore facing across the lake to the landing stages at Glenridding. What a great situation. The farm now has a tearoom, I can’t go past without visiting. I enjoy a pot chatting to a couple originally from Preston.

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Refreshed I walk into Glenridding where I could catch my bus bit it is a beautiful afternoon so I decide to walk on along the lake shore and catch the 5 o’clock bus at Aira Force .  The way is close to the road but mostly in pleasant woodland close on the lake.

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Halfway I come across a stone fold with a young oak growing inside it, Taking the Long View, one of three in Cumbria by artists Harriet and Rob Frazer highlighting the value of trees.

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But look across the fields and you see this magnificent tree…

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I arrive with time to spare but on reading the timetable more carefully realise the school holidays are over and the buses are every two hours. I have an hour and a half to ‘waste’. The café is closed, I wander down to the boat pier and realise there is a boat going back to Glenridding. It’s a lovely evening for the short  cruise on Lady Dorothy rather than sitting waiting for the bus. Its a magic evening.

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But I’ve kept you long enough, time to get the bus back to Penrith.  Wetherspoon’s, The Dog Beck, is too handy when I alight, so I pop in for a relaxing pint of Eden Black, from the Eden River Brew Co, to contemplate the very successful day sat in an easy chair in the corner.

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Sorry that this has been back to front if you are following The Ullswater Way the usual anticlockwise.

***

Screenshot 2024-09-09 053036

ULLSWATER WAY 1 – POOLEY BRIDGE TO AIRA FORCE.

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I climb a Wainwright, the first for years.

On the nine o’clock bus out of Penrith, into Pooley Bridge in no time. My plan to use public transport seems to be working. All I have to do now is walk. It’s a scorcher of a day, so I will take things easy, there’s a lot of ups and downs to come. already the café alongside the river is busy.

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I read the stone and cross the new bridge over the River Eamont.

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Signs send me into the woods below tree shrouded Dunmallard. Last up there when ‘doing’ Wainwright’s Outlying Fells way back in 2016 when the temporary bridge was in place. https://bowlandclimber.com/2016/04/01/wainwright-outliers-get-your-five-a-day/

The waymarks have a daffodil theme, it was on the shores of Ullswater that Wordsworth apparently saw the daffodils that inspired his well-known poem.

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A short stretch by the road at first in the trees, then in the open with shapely Salmond’s Hill ahead and then I’m heading across fields on a well-used path towards Waterfoot Park. A large caravan site around an old mansion.

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I follow one of their estate roads and then start climbing  up to Maiden Castle, marked on the map but nothing to see on the ground.

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There are good views back to Dunmallard and ahead to open country around Ullswater. The high hills are in the haze.

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I come out onto a road next to a farm with a pet Macaw, i didn’t see him. Farther on in one of their fields is a ‘tuck shop’ with drinks and snacks for sale using an honesty box, well actually a pot rooster. The day is already very hot so I buy a can to supplement my water supply and enjoy their bench with a view as I drink it.

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Downhill I join a road through the hamlet of Bennethead.

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The guide warns of muddy fields ahead, but they are fine today. Even the animals appear to have heat stroke.

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Watermillock, or is it Longthwaite, a dozen houses at the most, but I make a short diversion to visit the church. A squat sandstone building surrounded by yew trees, one reputably dating back to the C16th, I think I find it. The inside of the church is cool and calm. Stained glass windows honour previous notaries. There are lots of little interesting historical details. I sit on one of their benches in the shade and have an early lunch before all the climbing to come

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Back on track, the heat is intensifying, and there is little breeze. I pass below Priest’s Crag and follow the path through the bracken. Entering Swinburn’s Park plantation. I’m on the lookout for Herdwick Stones, celebrating the sheep associated with the Lakes. The Herdwick sheep is the native breed of the Lake District, championed by Beatrix Potter. They are thought to have been brought to this country by Norse settlers over 1000 years ago. There are carved stones, created by letter carver Charlotte Ruse, with the shepherd counting numbers depicted. yan, tyan, tethera.  I only find two of them.

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Whilst I’m in the trees, I stop for some chocolate and more water before embarking on the climb up Gowbarrow. I’m finding it hard going in the heat and humidity. The Ullswater Way has a choice here, follow a level terraced path around to Aira Force or climb up over the summit of Gowbarrow 481m.

Despite my lethargy, I opt for the summit for it’s 360degree views. I start meeting people for the first time today as they descend on what is a popular short circuit. The last few feet need hands on the rock. There is a trig point for all those selfies. I sit quietly on a nearby boulder drinking even more water. The views are disappointedly hazy, not surprising given the conditions.

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It’s a lie.

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This is what the view could look like on a better day, from the web site. Screenshot 2024-09-10 212350

Coming downhill towards Dockray is again steep and stony, needing care.

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I arrive at the top falls of Aira Force, which most people don’t climb far enough up to see. There is plenty of water to give a decent display. Paths go off in all directions, some getting close to the edge depending on how brave you are feeling. 

The main fall is one long drop with a couple of viewing bridges across the narrow chasm. Despite all the tourists milling around, the falls are indeed very dramatic. Well worth a visit.

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I find a new way down which keeps close to the water below, The Sika Spruce route. It’s name becomes obvious at the end where there is enormous Spruce, hundreds of years old no doubt.

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Aira Beck, mow tamed, runs off down to the lake. The café is closed, but there is a tap for rehydration. I just wander down to the bus stop to await transport back to Penrith. I’m feeling rather tired with all the exertion in the heat, one of the hottest days of the summer, Sept 5th.

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***

Screenshot 2024-09-05 052028

ULLSWATER WAY – PRELUDE.

Penrith to Pooley Bridge, The Eamont Way.

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The Eamont Way was designated and signed recently, 2023. It leads directly from the front of Penrith rail station, giving a pedestrian route to Pooley Bridge. What an excellent start to reach The Ullswater Way. https://www.ullswaterheritage.org/eamont-way

Rain is in the air from early this morning as I walk to catch the bus to Preston.  The Glasgow train is on time, and I’m in Penrith just after 11 am. There was not much to see on the way up.

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After a look around the castle, a coffee from the outside kiosk, and a bit of faffing whilst it poured down, I’m ready to leave by midday. Welcome to the Lakes.

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There is a map of the route on the wall of the station. The waymarks depict an eel, more on that later at Pooley Bridge.

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So I’m on the lookout for an eel as I leave the station forecourt. And sure enough, there is one on nearly every lamppost along the busy road.

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The guide mentions  Macdonald’s as a café, but there is a proper one down the road on the route.

The motorway passes close by Penrith, and there is a maze of slip roads and roundabouts. Not the calmest start to a Lakeland walk .

But after less than a mile, the way enters the countryside and the sound of traffic recedes.

Under the railway main lines via a couple of atmospheric arched brick tunnels and onto bridleways and quiet lanes. There are no distant views in this weather. I catch a glimpse of the River Eamont over to my left and am soon crossing it on a substantial footbridge.  It is running full with all the rain.

I come into the little hamlet of Sockbridge. A miniature village green provides a bench for lunch.  These are mainly simple cottages, but a larger property stands out. Wordsworth’s House, built in 1699 and occupied by William’s grandfather, Richard, in the late C18th.The first owners, Reginald and Elizabeth Dobson, have their initials (RED) carved over the door. Their granddaughter, a Mrs Collingwood, sold the house to Richard Wordsworth.

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What a charming hamlet, worth exploring further, there is a trail including Sockbridge and Tirril.

Quaker Lane leads out of the village. There is a Quaker burial ground in nearby Tirril. Charles Gough, who died on Helvellyn in 1805, is buried there.  His dog was said to have stayed by his dead master for several weeks. Charles Gough (artist) – Wikipedia

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The bridleway brings me onto the main road, which the Eamont Way follows for some distance. I pass the Gothic Kirkbarrow Hall, now a dairy farm.

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When the footway runs out I have other ideas and want to visit the parish church of St. Michael’s at Barton. So I turn up the next bylane.

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An ornate Lynch Gate, a WW1 memorial, leads into the churchyard surrounding the squat church itself.  The Church has Norman origins, but only the central nave remains from that period. The inside is dark and low, with the central tower splitting the aisle. Many tombstones are old, and I know are listed, but it is difficult to decipher them.

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Curiosity sated I walk farther up the lane towards Barton Church Farm. A public right of way goes through the farmyard past Glebe House and then right through buildings via an archway. (Both are grade II listed). I have a feeling they would prefer it didn’t, and this may be why the Eamont Way doesn’t come on this otherwise historic route. Why would the Eamont Way go down a busy road with no footway? I suspect some C21st skullduggery at play.

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Glebe House 1637

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Barton Church Farmhouse C16th

More open fields now, with limited views westwards towards Ullswater, a smart bridleway, and then open fell with wooded Dunmallard Hill above Pooley Bridge prominent.

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A crowded ‘green holiday village’ is passed. Not my idea of the countryside.

I pass some ‘Inspired by art’ posts placed at the viewpoint used by previous artists. The QR code supposed to reveal the original painting, a good idea, but I fail to get it to work on my phone.

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Some grand tree lined slopes, and I’m suddenly in the crowded Pooley Bridge village. Pubs , cafés and gift shops vying for the throng’s trade.

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I stand below the famous fishing wind vane in front of the Crown Inn and read of the history and connection to the eel waymarks.

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Pooley Bridge had a weekly fish market until the C19th. In the 12th century a charter was granted by King John to hold a fish market in Pooley Village square in front of what is now the Crown Inn. It continued into the C19th. In the summer months large numbers of eel were caught and sold in the area. A market cross with a fish and weather vane, similar to the one you see today, was erected. It stood near its current site, was repaired by Lord Dacre in the 1680s but was removed in 1890s to allow a turning space for the omnibuses bringing visitors to Ullswater. The current Market Cross was erected by Barton Parish Council in 2000 to commemorate the granting of the charter and as a reminder of the village’s fishing origins. The Coats of Arms of the Dacre family and the Hasells of Dalemain are inscribed on the north and south faces of the Cross to acknowledge their historical attachment to the ancient Parish of Barton.

***

I’m not staying here, hotels are busy and very expensive, so I board the crowded 508 bus and whizz back to Penrith. My B and B, The Blue Swallow, seems excellent with friendly proprietors.  It’s good to get out of my wet garments. Let’s look at the weather forecast for tomorrow.

***

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THE ULLSWATER WAY AND MORE.

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Whilst I have a free week, away from mainly medical appointments, I intend to look around another walk I’ve had on the back boiler for awhile, The Ullswater Way. I bought the Mark Richard’s guide in 2022. The 20 or 22 mile, depending where you look, walk was launched after the devastating floods of Storm Desmond, which badly effected Pooley bridge and Patterdale in 2015, to attract walkers back to the area. As if the Lakes need any publicity. P1080793

As is usual nowadays there is a dedicated website with lots of information before you set off.   The Ullswater Way | 20 Mile Ullswater Walking Route.

Even more background information is found on the excellent Friends of the Ullswater Way (ullswaterheritage.org) site.

This is their introduction – Welcome to the Ullswater Way, a 22 mile walking route that circumnavigates the lake through a spectacular landscape rich in history and cultural heritage. It is divided into 4 sections, each served by the Ullswater Steamers.  Some people walk the whole Ullswater Way in a day but many prefer to walk the 4 sections separately, beginning or ending the day with a cruise on the Steamer. There are Steamer piers at Glenridding, Pooley Bridge, Howtown and Aira Force” 

Some friends of mine walked, for charity I may add, the whole route in a day and found it gruelling. My gruelling days, I hope, are confined to history. Other options opened up for me as the above suggests. My plan is to walk from Pooley Bridge to Aira Force, possibly on to Glenridding or more probably enjoy a short trip on the steamer there. The day after walk from Glenridding to Howtown and escape by steamer and completing the circle the next day walking from Howtown to Pooley Bridge. Three days for the way.

Screenshot 2024-08-28 101753Even more options – Dalemain (5 miles) and Lowther (7miles) loops from Pooley Bridge. And there is a new link from Penrith to Pooley Bridge, the grandly named Eamont Way, all 5.5 miles of it.  A separate Heritage trail of sculptures is to be explored along the way. There are also some important archeological sites close to Penrith. A plan is taking shape. This is becoming a week’s holiday.

The cost of hotels in the Lake District is exorbitant, especially for a single traveller – typically £150 – £200 a night. What happened to all the economical Youth Hostels of my past, when youngsters could explore Britain’s wonderful countryside in their holidays? We have changed and lost so much. Grumbles aside I decide against a place to place expensive  backpack and book a reasonable priced and highly recommended  B and B in the lovely town of Penrith. I can use the train to reach there and onwards use the regular 508 bus service to Windermere serving all the Ullswater destinations. The Ullswater Steamers will come into my equation at some stage. Feeling smugly green about my transport plans.

This time I make sure in advance that the new cattery can look after Seth for a week, he enjoyed his last holiday with them.

I’m looking forward to another week away to give some balance to my life. The forecast so far looks good. I’ve booked my return rail ticket to Penrith, £16 seems a bargain. It is always good to do without the car.

THE TELFORD T50.

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I have never visited Ironbridge, one of the birthplaces of the Industrial Revolution. So when I spotted this 50 mile walk around the area I was intrigued. There is a good website telling you everything you need to know with downloadable maps and descriptions. Being old fashioned I like to have a printed copy so a couple of years ago sent off for the guide. This gives a better insight to the industrial heritage and the natural environment along the trail.

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For all sorts of reasons I’ve not got away for awhile and this was high on my list of trails to explore. There are others on the backburner. The last month has been hectic with a cataract operation and a plethora of other hospital visits, but I find myself with a week free of appointments. A session on a well known website and I have managed to book accommodation for the trip. It was not easy with demand being high in the holiday season, as you will see I have taken individual variations on the sections of the walk to fit in with accommodation vacancies. One could walk all the trail sections based in Telford centre, using buses each day, but that is a faff, and I like to sample the different lodgings as they come along. 

The train service to the area seems good and I have booked the journey, again being old fashioned I have the actual paper tickets to hand. 

A problem arose with finding my cat, Seth, a holiday home whilst I’m away. His usual cattery is having a show down with DEFRA over the size of their feline pens, a couple of centimetres short, and are closed. Seth has never complained in the past. I tried another cattery and they were full for the whole of summer. The third on my list has space for him thankfully, otherwise the trip would have been off, friends who in the past have looked after him at home are no longer with us. 

***

“The Telford T50 50 Mile Trail was created to celebrate the new town’s 50th anniversary in 2018. The trail was designed to showcase the many beautiful green spaces, interesting places and industrial heritage”  

This is the route in outline –

OIP

The trail is apparently waymarked but in urban areas the discs have a habit of disappearing. We shall see.

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***

Time to get the small backpack out, dubbin the boots and create a new category on this webpage, Telford T50. As it is only 5 or 6 days I shall be traveling light with just the clothes I am wearing. 

TELFORD T50 – 6. Wellington, the northern loop.

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“a delightful ramble through the town, woods, local nature reserves and across open spaces”

The best breakfast of the trip set me up for the day.

A well marked route, often shared with the Shropshire Way, takes me through Wellington centre, where I duck down Ten Tree Croft, where cloth was hung in the C18th (tenter) and eventually into Dothill nature reserve. There are extensive woodlands and two lakes. It is dog walking territory. Some of the trees have identification plaques, and it turns out there are 50 of these. I don’t think I can recognise 50 trees. I do a loop around the second lake before another housing estate. Wouldn’t it be good to have the time to follow the whole 50 tree trail.

The path leading to Apley is hemmed in by the dreaded developer’s fencing;. “It was all green fields last year,” a passing couple tell me.

Entering the grounds of the former Apley Hall, one immediately notices the variety of trees that must have been planted in the estate’s heyday. The pool is closed to fishing  due to an infestation with blue-green algae. Several other pools passed this week are in a similar situation.

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One of the reasons to complete this northern loop was to see the famous Yew Avenue. I will soon turn down into it for a wonderful view. I don’t know it’s age, but halfway down is one very old yew. 

I join the Silkin Way, for the last time, a lovely avenue of limes, and some juicy blackberries..

I almost catch a bus back from near here but persist with the convoluted route through housing estates into the centre of Wellington, with a view up to the Ercall and Wrekin at the end. . 

***

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***

I have time to spare so go in search of that little middle-eastern café, Dina. I enjoy a bowl of lentil soup and a delicious falafel/salad wrap for the princely sum of £4.  To top it off I go next door to ‘Spoons’, The William Withering, for a £1.79 pint of Ruddles.  Luxury. P1070571

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***

Well that has been a great mini trip. Good to get away for the first time this year. The Telford T50 is a well thought out trail, obviously devised by locals who know the area and the best bits. The guide book is excellent for background information and precise navigation. Waymarking was excellent. There were more ups and downs than I expected. I did about 7,000 ft in the 48 miles I actually walked.

All the joined up green spaces in the vicinity of Telford make the walk feel rural for 90% of the time. Passing through one doesn’t catch much of the wild life that must be thriving here. A  good blueprint for new towns, we should have more of them rather than the haphazard new developments plaguing our rural areas.   

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TELFORD T50 – 5. Little Wenlock, over the Wrekin, to Wellington.

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“it is a highlight well worth the climb”

I can almost see The Wrekin from my bedroom window but there is a tree in the way. I’ve been able to see its sharp profile from most of this week’s walk, now all I have to do is climb up it. The T50 goes below it with an option to backtrack up to the summit and then reverse the last section – a strange way of doing it. I plan to walk to the far end and then climb up and over with no messing about.

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The first mile or so, on a little lane, is all downhill, not the best of starts. The day is more pleasant than of late with a refreshing breeze. Along the way The Wrekin is visible with its nobbly bits obvious.

I pass the junction where The T50 goes off and walk on, hoping there is a right of way along my planned route. I arrive at the  forest drive and find there is a permissive way. Not by the scout camp but close to it. The estate’s map, which shows the permissive paths clearly. is upside down, which is strange.

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The climbing begins gradually and then levels out going from deciduous to fir trees. There are distant views south with the shapely Caer Caradoc prominent.

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I join the Shropshire Way to go steeply up the western nose of the hill. It is steep and slippery, but I just plod on. The secret is not to get out of breath. A little zigzagging helps. Runners pass me easily, but there are no others coming this way.

First, you reach a volcanic rocky outcrop, where you can pretend you are on Striding  Edge for a while.

A good spot to sit and take in the views south to the other Shropshire hills and distant Wales. Down below to the east is Telford and its satellite villages where I’ve been walking for the last few days. I’m glad I stopped here for the views rather than up at the top, as you shall see.

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Up ahead I can see lots of people at the summit trigpoint, 407m, mainly taking selfies of their achievement. I arrive to find one man leaning on the trig point, talking loudly to his wife on his mobile when others wanted to reach the trig, especially as the base is a work of art. He carries on for over 10 mins, oblivious to anyone else. There is also toposcope to identify distant hills etc, but it is being trampled all over by a trio taking pictures, no doubt to share on Instagram. A right circus, or perhaps I’m being petty. What else do you expect on a popular hill in the summer holidays? I make a quick exit as hordes more are arriving.

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There is a board explaining the hillfort up here, but as usual for me, I fail to make out much on the ground. Could this be a hut circle?

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In my rush to get off I didn’t thread the needle’s eye. The way up for most has actually been concreted at some time, a final degradation of a hill, they are wrecking the Wrekin.

In the woods, lower down peace returns. I stop and sit for a while and admire the beech trees.

Lower still is the Halfway House, a café where I enjoy a coffee in their garden. A nice surprise. I don’t know where everyone parks their cars but is it really halfway? I am told the café has just been taken over by a charity helping ex-offenders, Yellow Ribbon, well done.

Thankfully, the T50 takes a different route to most, and I don’t see anyone else for a long time. What a beautiful stretch of mature forest. Even a fallen tree is showing signs of life again.

A short stretch around a reservoir, and I come onto a minor road. Just as I am about to dive back into the woods, I spot up ahead a hotel serving coffee. I go one better than that and enjoy a well presented serving of tuna and cucumber sandwiches, all in the luxury of their lounge bar. My downloaded map tells me I’m off course!

Back on course, I enter Ercall Woods. An old quarry is seen high up with volcanic overlaid with sedimentary rock, dating from when animal life had begun to change to a having a skeleton, 500 million years ago. 

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Beautiful beech trees give way to sessile oak higher up.

I am not sure which little path goes where, but I reach the fence overlooking that quarry, and that is as high as you can get, The Ercall, 265m. What a contrast to the Wrekin seen across the way.

Coming down I just wander at will, enjoying the peace and quiet, especially after my Wrekin experience. The greenery continues almost into Wellington down below. I’m jolted back to reality by the sound of the motorway, which I duck under.

I come out on Holyhead Road, Watling Street, not far from my B&B, but there across the road is the Wickets public house, time for a refreshing pale ale to replace all that sweat.

My lodgings are reassuringly old fashioned. A shared bathroom down the corridor, mix and match furniture, and electric extension cables all over the floor, all looked after by a delightful lady in her latter years. When did you last have a chocolate marshmallow or chocolate finger?

In the morning I will walk the north Wellington loop before catching the train home.

***

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TELFORD T50 – 4. Ironbridge to Little Wenlock.

“bear right for paradise”

A day and a half! Lots of walking and lots of sightseeing in the gorge, the ‘raison d’être’ for this trip.

The day starts with a climb up from the river into Lloyd’s Coppice woods. A clear path winds its way through the trees high above the valley. At one time these hills were used for timber and coal mining for the nearby furnaces but all is peace and quiet, a perfect start to the day. And then the steps appeared, climbing higher up Blists Hill. No sooner up than I am going down, Old King Cole style.

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Somehow I go round in circles for a while down at the entrance to Blists Hill Museum, a working village. The museums in the gorge can all be accessed by a rather expensive yearly ticket, maybe good value for  regulars, but of no interest to me just passing though. I will have to be content with the the free bits.

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Blists Hill furnaces

I can see the old railway below me but can’t find a way out of the car park to reach it. Once I read the guide more carefully I’m on my way. I’m back on the Silkin Way, the disused L&NW Railway line which has come down from Telford the easy way. All I have to is walk into Coalport. I pass under Hay Inclined Plane designed to lift boats from the canal below. It is under scaffolding here but more of it later.

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The buildings by the canal, including a YHA, are part of the Coalport China factory, now a museum. The brick kilns are remarkably well preserved, I suspect rebuilt in more modern times, Under a bridge can be seen the end of the inclined plane. High above it connected to the Shropshire canal built in 1790, coal could be transported from the pits to here and then down the incline to the china works canal. Finished wares then shipped down the River Severn close by. The ingenuity of the first industrialists. In 1861 the London and North Western Railway arrived and the canals ceased to function. In the mid C20th china manufacture was moved to Staffordshire.

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I cross the River Severn on the Jackfield and Coalport Memorial Bridge, a WWI memorial, arriving on the doorstep of The Boat Inn, with the heights of flooding marked on the door.

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Going alongside a massive wall, Maws Works, I read that from 1883 -1970 it was the largest tile factory in the world. Local clay proved ideal for encaustic tiles, those decorated ones found in Victorian houses, pubs and churches. Now what is left is a craft centre and apartments.

I pass the Half Moon pub, there seem to be a lot of pubs in the gorge. Those workers had quite a thirst, and now sufficient tourists must keep them open. A bit of rarely trampled greenery by the river and then I’m in Jackfield.

The next major attraction here is The Ironbridge Gorge Tile Museum. I do poke my nose into the Peacock Café of this place and end up with coffee and cake. A lady with her dog is sat on the adjacent table, I complement her dog, always a good conversation starter. She is biding time whilst her daughter and husband paint tiles in the museum (dogs not allowed), and they will be fired and sent on in due course.

A short walk along another old railway, a branch of the Great Western, and I pass the home of Jackfield Brass Band in the old Coalford Wesleyan Chapel. 1825. It would be good to hear them playing in the gorge on a sunny Summer’s day.

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At last I arrive at the Ironbridge Toll House, not looking good under scaffolding. Inside is a little museum telling the story of the bridge. The first cast iron bridge in the world, built in some ways to highlight the progress of the iron industry of the area. It was designed by an architect T F Pritchard, enthusiastically funded by ‘Ironmaster’ John Wilkinson, and built by the Quaker Abraham Darby. It was completed in 1779 and opened in 1781,replacing a ferry across the Severn. Closed to traffic in 1934 and freed from tolls in 1950, the price hadn’t changed from 1781- a halfpenny or a pedestrian.

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It best viewed from the riverside.

All along here are cafes and tourist shops, and yet more pubs. There are some smart cottages and houses, again with well tended gardens.

By the road side are Limekilns used when there was a large amount of limestone quarried on Lincoln Hill above. There is the usual informative board that I have come to expect on these trails.

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The museum near here has no exhibitions any more because of repeated severe flooding, sign of the times. Down the road the co-op is housed in an old warehouse, as is a smart gallery.

Across the way is a steep lane, Paradise, climbing out of the gorge. Soon, I’m back in the woods and a few hundred steps up to The Rotunda. This was originally a covered viewing platform with a revolving seat for the gentry to look down upon all their industries. All that is left is the platform base, and trees are robbing the views.

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Base of the Rotunda.

In my header photo taken from up here you can just make out the Ironbridge in the woods by the Severn, Here’s a zoom to it.

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The woods following have lots of tracks – ‘Sabbath Walks’ devised by C19th industrials to provide leisure for the workers on a Sunday and keep them out of all those pubs.

Bearing left, as I usually do, I never achieve Paradise.

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Soon I’m dropping down into Coalbrookdale.

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Here there is a large historic iron industry complex, The Museum of Iron. I’m not sure what is on display in the Museum but I head straight to the café for a pot of tea, it has been a muggy day down in the gorge. You probably need a tea or something stronger if you have read this far with me.

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In the  grounds are the remains of an early furnace and the attendant infrastructure, including the waterwheel building and the upper pool, which fed it.

Through the many arched viaduct, the Great Western Railway, that ran until 2017. Above are houses on the hillside habited by the Darby families. Dale House, built in 1717, and Rosehill House, built in 1738. They have been restored in the style of the period but close at three. The workers’ cottages are higher still. I meet the dog lady again, with her family, and the tiles painted look impressive.

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The day is slipping away and I have four more miles to go. That is the last of the museums and I’m heading into more open countryside. Back down the hill I go through a little arch into a different land. Loamhole Dingle is a delight of shady paths alongside a sluggish stream.

I escape up steps and follow a lane into Lydebrook Dingle which gives more of the same before steps climb out into fields.

I realise I’ve hardly seen any livestock on this walk – until now. 

Some of the fields are massive – this machine is a modern type of hoe.

I’m quite high up but the distant hills are in haze, although The Wrekin is getting closer. I follow the Shropshire Way into the small village. The Huntsman is all a walker needs, at a price.

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I feel miles from Telford, another world. Tomorrow there shouldn’t be any historical industrial incidents to slow us up, I promise.

***

TELFORD T50 – 3. Telford to Ironbridge.

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“Madeley Court Hotel… is open to non-residents and there is a pleasant lakeside bar”

Late morning and I’m doing a diversion to see the C17th Madeley Court. It is surrounded by pools.  I’m hoping to get a morning coffee as it is now a hotel and it is now  coffee time.. But something is strange. There is a heavy presence of burly security men all around and at the entrances. No way are they letting me pass, and they are not for telling me why. “No photographs sir”.  Conspiracy theories go through my brain, but I’m most disappointed about missing that coffee.

Earlier I had made my way past the shopping mecca, all 25 acres of it, at heart of Telford,

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Suddenly, I’m in the Town Park, all 370 acres of it. There seems to be something for everyone in here. Fairground, zoo, paddling pools, climbing wall, lakes, all sorts of playgrounds, cycle hire, and trails going in every direction. The Telford T50 officially starts by the old chapel, which is strangely in the centre of a kiddies play area.  There is the usual map and info, but the first section of the way is closed off for repairs. Not a good start.

I take a nearby road, which soon becomes the T50 with the now familiar waymarks. Families are out for walks, and a few cyclists come by. Along this stretch, I divert to have a look at the 209ft high Stirchley chimney, a remnant of the iron works started in 1790. The whole area was rich in Ironstone, wood, and then coal, limestone, and clay. Can you imagine the activity and pollution back in the heday of industrial production.

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Soon, the waymarks suggest I’m following the Silkin Way, here an old railway, originally a tramway. It goes all the way to Ironbridge directly, but T50 will take in convoluted paths through several nature reserves.

The Dawley and Stirchley station platform has been preserved. Trains last ran in 1952. The ‘line’ goes under an aqueduct, which brought water to the Coalport branch of the Shropshire Canal, which predated the railway.

Along this stretch, I meet a couple in their eighties out for a 15-mile stroll. They regularly do twice that amount, amazing. In contrast, a man on a mobility scooter stops to chat. I notice he is on oxygen. It turns out he has asbestosis, that cruel industrial disease. But getting out as much as he can. All very humbling.

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Now, out of the Town Park, I leave the Silkin Way at an old windmill to head down to Madeley Court.

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After the missing coffee a few intricate paths through flowering meadows, just follow the waymarks, land me in a confusing housing estate, turn on the app. Once extricated, I come across the Dawley Pools, supplying water for the canal in the past. A couple of anglers are just setting up for the day.

I pass more pools, which are overgrown but must be a haven for wildlife. I stroll on through the maze of trees. There are few ancient trees as they were cut down in the industrial era. Mostly, they just regenerated naturally after the pits and furnaces were abandoned. Though new trees have been planted on some of the contaminated brownfield sites.

After crossing a disused railway, there is a newly surfaced path through Rough Park. Alongside bordering a stream, I notice a gate leading to a community willow plantation. Different varieties are being  grown, and there are some willow arches. It would be good to be part of that community.

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The first uphill of the day and a series of those dreaded steps lead up into a more open area of Rough Park looking north. A bench provides a suitable lunch spot. Dog walkers appear from all directions, all very friendly and proud of their woodland walks. Buzzards are soring overhead.

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Housing that I navigate through next shows little architectural imagination. More housing is destroying a wooded area. I see notices up asking people to object to overdevelopment of their green spaces. I think it is too late.

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Further on, I walk through a smaller nature reserve maintained by the community. Let’s hope the land is safe. Another small nature reserve follows now looking out over the wooded Coalbrook Dale, 500ft below, the Wrekin pops up its head as usual.

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All of a sudden, I’m in the  little lanes above Ironbridge. Workers’ cottages, some a few centuries old, display some lovely cottage garden flowers.

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One cottage squeezed into a junction is delightfully named The Wedge of Cheese.

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A plaque on an other records the birthplace of Billy Wright, the famous footballer from the fifties, if you remember.

Across the road was the old pub where the nine Madeley miners bodies were taken to after the mine shaft disaster of 1864.

Off route I find a steep stairway dropping all the way down to the Severn, Wisteria archways and little wild spaces add to its charm.

This brings me out right next to the remains of the Bedlam Furnaces which I wanted to see. All that remains are the rear walls and foundations of the engine house, bellows house and one of the furnaces. All is covered by a big tent and the casting area where pig iron would have been run into sand moulds would have been in the car park. Most people drive by without a look.

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Bedlam Coalbrookdale. c1780s.Edward Dayes.

You’re familiar with the word ‘bedlam’, a chaotic scene. The word emerged as a nickname for the early asylum, The Bethlem Hospital, established in London way back in the C15th. The scene in the early C19th painting below hints at the conditions in the valley in those days.

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Coalbrookdale by night. 1801. Philip James de Loutherbourg.

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I walk alongside the River Severn to reach my comfortable abode for the night, ‘Ye Olde Robin Hood Inn’. 

It’s been a long day with lots of history below my feet. I am ready for a pint of Holden’s Black Country beer, brewed in Dudley.

***

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TELFORD T50 – 2. Lilleshall to Telford. (Plus an Abbey)

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“the ruined medieval Lilleshall Abbey is some distance from the trail – best left for another occasion”

It takes 10mins to walk to Telford central station to catch a bus to Lilleshall. The crossing of the road and the rails in the futuristic bridge is dramatic. The buses are running half an hour late, and it is Lille-shawl not Lilles-hall! The bus goes around the houses, and one  begins to realise the size of this not-so-new town. I just looked it up, and the population is 190,000 almost the size of Preston. I have not started from where I finished yesterday, it all looked a bit too built up and I’m not a slave to the guide. (Probably means I’m walking the Telford T45)

My Bus app tells me when to get off, right outside of the church in Lilleshall. I have a look inside, although it dates from Medieval times, most is Victorian.

I plod up the lanes where there are some prime properties in a prime situation. A lady asks me about my walk and then tells me of some Abbey ruins not to be missed only a mile or so away. I half take it in, as often people underestimate walking distances. I’m more concerned at the moment with climbing the hill to see the view and the Duke of Sutherland monument.

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Up to now, it has remained hidden despite being on of Shropshire’s landmarks. The views improve as I climb, and a board tells me what I am looking at. The Wrekin is the stand-out feature and I hope to climb it later in the week. But other Shropshire hills are in view as well as distant Wales. Years ago, I completed a round of the Shropshire tops with my old mate, Mel. I shall have to revisit my diaries to check what we did. That was when we did 20 + miles a day, and now I am happy if I get up to 20 kilometres.

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The Duke of Sutherland is a controversial figure, hated in Scotland for his cruel Highland clearances. Yet here in the Midlands, he seems to have been a good landlord and philanthropic manager. I seem to remember climbing to a monument to him just outside Stoke. His monument here is certainly impressive and dominates the area from the 132m hill.

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I am soon back in the village, and there in  front of me is a footpath heading towards Lilleshall Abbey, which I’ve checked on the OS map, maybe a mile away. Decision made I climb the stile.

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Once away from waymarked, named trails, the state of public footpaths may vary. The next mile emphasised this. Not many come this way. The paths take erratic ways across the open fields, needing careful navigation ( that means using my phone to keep me right) Then, I’m faced with a field of corn through which no one has ventured this season. I walk  around the edge and escape onto the road. This is how public rights of way are lost,  I’m not being a hero today.

The Abbey is just off the road, modestly signed. But wow, what a place it turns out to be.  I marvel at its size and some of the intricate carved sandstone. The surviving abbey buildings almost all date from the late 12th and early 13th centuries.

The English Heritage web site gives a potted history – https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/lilleshall-abbey/History/

After wandering around I find a seat for a break and snack, I’m glad I came.

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Back along the road to pick up the T50 as it crosses fields towards housing at Muxton, on past the impressive golf course, and then into Granville Country Park.

This area was the centre for a thriving iron production industry as well as extensive coal mines. In 1764, the Granville family set up a company to develop the mineral resources on their land. This became the Lilleshall Company in the early C19th. A canal was constructed as well as rail lines eventually to facilitate the transport of materials. Some of the earliest blast furnaces in the country were constructed.

All is now disappearing under vegetation. The coal mines closed in 1979, and the land reclaimed. I spot bits of industrial heritage. The canal basin is remarkably intact, and some of the massive furnaces are still visible.

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There are interpretation boards everywhere so here is a concise guide to Iron making to get you up to speed.

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It is pleasant wandering through the woods with good waymarking on the myriad of paths. The birds are heard but not seen and there is prolific plant colonisation of the waste land. I just wish there were more insects about.

There are quite a lot of steps encountered which seems to becoming the norm for this trail,  the whole area undulating because of former mining operations.  One flight of steps takes me to “The top of the world.” Old spoil heaps giving more great views over Shropshire with The Wrekin as prominent as ever.

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Housing developments are creeping in everywhere. The open countryside and views disappear behind high fencing.

I’m getting ready for a break and some lunch when on the corner appears a pub, the New Cottage, . It is in the process of being modernised, probably not for the better. It doesn’t look inviting but a drinks a drink. I sit outside with a pint of Sharp’s Atlantic Pale Ale, all the way from Cornwall, and eat my sandwich.

A few streets, and I’m going around the water of Priorslee Lake (The Flash), a pleasant interlude with people  picnicking and fishing. All this minutes away from busy roads and housing, the essence of new town planning. There was talk of building more new towns to solve our ‘housing crisis’ rather than the haphazard development occurring on edges of our towns and villages.

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The route takes me through the older part of Priorslee village with cottages originally built for the iron workers and the odd house for the bosses.

Pedestrian alleys take me over roads and railway back to the centre of Telford. The road I was hoping to use was closed so I braved a dual carriage way for a time.

Quite a long day in the heat. I’m moving on tomorrow, down to Ironbridge. 

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TELFORD T50 – 1. Wellington to Lawley.

P1070628“the former opencast pits have only recently been restored to green fields”

A long day. Half the day is spent getting here. My bus ride before 7am into Preston was interesting.  No delays as it is school holidays and for a change there were no roadworks. At one stop, I witnessed a simple fraud carried out by a couple of lads. The first gets on the bus, buys a ticket, and promptly out of sight of the driver throws it out of an open window  for his mate to board the bus with! Would never have thought of that. Of course, it won’t work if an inspector appears, but when did you last see one of those.

Preston is not joined up transport wise. It is a 15min walk to the rail station from the bus station, but I try to factor that into my planning and have time for a coffee. Usually works. Change at Crewe. “Oh, Mr. Porter, what am I going to do?” always springs to mind. Another change at Shrewsbury, and I’m on a Welsh speaking train. It’s only one stop to Wellington where there is a distinct Midlands’ accent as soon as you step out of the station.

I immediately take the wrong turning and am lost, it is easily done in towns. It’s best to rethink and slow down, I head back into the centre and into a little Eastern café for a coffee, a bargain these days for £1. The food looked and smelt good. I may try it when I’m back here in a few days on my circular route.

Refreshed, I find my way across town, whose Medieval buildings will have to wait until I’m back. I do however pass the site of a former Chad Valley Toys building, I remember those. A little further and there is a blue plaque to the painter Cecil Lawson – I had to look him up.

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At last I’m on Limekiln Lane, which gives a clue as to past industries hereabouts. Limestone was mined and quarried in the 18th and 19th centuries and used as a flux in early iron making. I’m probably following the old tramway taking lime and stone to Wellington, situated on the important Watling Street.

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At some stage before going under the motorway, my first Telford T50 roundel appears, I have probably missed some in town. These red, or are they pink or purple, waymarks thankfully become a regular guide to the walk.

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I find  that within the first few pages of a written guide, one either likes and trusts the writer’s style or one resorts to the map and intuition. So far, it’s early days, but Anne Suffolk seems to be on the mark in both general information and directions. The maps in the guide are too small a scale to be useful for serious navigation, but they give a general idea of the route. I have downloaded the route map onto my OS app on my phone for when I’m lost. This is the first time I’ve employed this system, I’m slowly getting up to speed with modern technology. The app map hasn’t been needed in earnest yet.

This an easy lane to drive up and dump rubbish.

The limekilns would have been used to produce quicklime for mortar, lime wash, and soil fertility. Charcoal used first from the abundant woodlands and then coal from nearby provided the high heat necessary. Once into the woods I can I peer down into the tops of several kilns in amongst the trees, the brick work still clearly visible. It would have been interesting to see the kilns from below. There must be a track down there somewhere. The woods and open glades, being on limestone, are rich habitat for orchids in season, which, of course it isn’t, Yellow ragwort seems to be everywhere this year.

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Onwards and forever upwards, I hadn’t read the contours. The next stretch is more open, and the site of old bell pits and shallow shafts for the coal seams lying close to the surface. Coal mining here continued even into this century, but all is greenery now. Some of the open cast areas can just be made out.

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An old tramway. 


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Spoil heap next to track. 

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Recent open cast remains.


?flooded old bell pit.

?an old flooded bell pit.

After getting on for two hours of steady climbing, I reach a minor road at New Works. ‘New’ relating to the the C18th Darby family development of the area for coal to supply their furnaces at Coalbrookdale. No doubt more of this later in the walk, there is so much historical information in the guide book, on the many interpretation boards I’ve already come across and on the internet. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coalbrookdale#Industrial_Revolution

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Now there is only a collection of modern bungalows with good views over Shropshire and no doubt beyond. My route takes me on to the ‘Trundle’, not an expression I have come across relating to paths. Anyhow, a good wide surface takes me down through the woods to emerge onto the main road through Dawley/Lawley.

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The new builds here appear well constructed and interesting architecturally. All these suburbs are part of Telford new town, which started in 1968 trying to preserve some of the green networks and industrial areas. The Telford T50 was designed to reflect these and was to commemorate the 50 years since the start of the works. There is a prominent Mormon Church here and I get all the local information I need from one of the many dog walkers. Until now I hadn’t met anybody on the trail.

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As usual, a golf course appears on a long-distance walk, and this is where I go wrong for a while. Waymarks disappear, and I feel I’m trespassing, but with persistence, I emerge unscathed. It looks like a challenging course for the golfer as well as the walker.

I walk around peaceful Horsehay Lake, the pond for the iron furnaces and foundries. The lake remains, but the rest has mostly disappeared. What does remain, though, are the rows of workers’ cottages. Delightful Old,1750, and New,1830. I could live in one of those. 

And what is on the corner? A fish and chip shop. I can’t refuse the chance of a chippy lunch sitting looking over the lake. The ducks get my scraps.

The Telford Steam Railway looks a jumble, lots of work for the dedicated volunteers to get stuck into. I’m sure on a weekend when Steam is running it will be more exciting.

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The way forward coincides with The Ironstone Way, there seem to be lots of well-used trails in the area. I’m supposed to be walking alongside Lawley Common, but new developments have taken over.  Many obviously, since the guidebook was published in 2019.

The speed at which we devour the countryside is frightening.

I find myself in Morrison’s  café for a cup of tea. Those chips were salty. I had thought of going on a few miles or so, but it looked like suburbia all the way, maybe I am wrong, but I’ve had enough, 7 miles this afternoon, and call it a day.I seek out the bus stop reputably adjacent to Morrison’s. There is a bus in 5 minutes, obviously nobody seems to know where from. Why would they, they have all driven here. As I get onto the main road, my bus goes sailing past to stop a couple  of hundred metres farther on, but too far for me to catch it.

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Am I in Dawley or Lawley? I seek help from a lovely Indian man running a takeaway grill on the street. He phones for a taxi, and while waiting, we put the world to right. Should give his café a shout-out, but I didn’t get its name.

I was soon transported to my lodgings for the night, only two miles away – the Ramada in the centre of Telford.

A very comfy room and a deep bath. With eating those chips mid afternoon, I settle for a pint of Camden Town pale ale and some crisps in the bar.

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***

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THIS MORNING.

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                                                                                               Al.

Today.  This morning the day begins well as I sit listening to a beautiful Blackbird serenading his belle. My spirit is uplifted. Then the phone rings – my climbing friend, Al, had passed away in the night. I’ve expressed my vulnerability here before, possibly cloaked in obscurity. Today I feel very vulnerable.

Yesterday.  We had been out on a gentle walk in the Bowland uplands, I was about to write a post about it. My ex-work partner and I meeting up with a close friend who had recently lost his wife to that cruel cancer of the pancreas. I had attended her funeral last week. We three walked through farms owned by The Duchy of Lancaster. now King Charles. A welcome sunny afternoon after all the rain. We talked of many things. Lambs frolicked in the fields just beginning to dry out. primroses covered the banks surrounded by reef knolls. This is Curlew country.

A chance conversation, or was it destined? at one of these remote properties with a retired teacher. Not sure how it started but at one stage –  “Do you remember Dave? I was his senior colleague for years in Blackburn”  “Bloody hell yes, a lovely bloke I climbed with him for years”  I replied. Naturally more reminiscing followed and I promised to phone Dave and tell him of the meeting and bring him up to date. 

I first met Dave in Preston Hospital when he was recovering from a serious climbing accident. An accident in which Al was influential in saving his life. Despite that accident Dave and I formed a comfy climbing partnership with his wife’s encouragement.

A few years later through Dave  I met Al (1982). I remember the day. It was at Attermire, a limestone crag north of Settle. Barrel Buttress to be precise. The start of a forty year friendship. He has made many appearances in my posts as ‘the plastic bag man’ – a reference to his trade rather than his street appearance. Regular meet ups in the Lancashire quarries every Wednesday night followed, along with the ‘rockman‘ and the ‘pieman‘. Holidays in the alps became an annual treat. Long days on the trails and long nights in the refuges. We lived life to the full is the euphemism.

We all got older and for some, physical activities were restricted. But that friendship continued with catchup meetings for a drink or a meal. Latterly all Al could manage was a phone call and then not even that. Bringing us to this morning. I ended up phoning Dave, not about my chance meeting with his headmaster but with news of Al’s death. Circles within circles. 

Thanks for bearing with my vulnerability, here are some photos of that walk yesterday with friends in Bowland including that iconic phone box, now put into another perspective.. My thoughts are with Al’s family.

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***

In the words of Bob Dylan – It’s not dark yet.

SCULPTURES DOWN THE EDEN.

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 Eden Benchmarks are a series of ten contemporary stone sculptures located at intervals along the length of the river Eden between its source above the Mallerstang valley and Rockliffe, north of Carlisle, where it runs into the Solway Firth.
 “Each sculptor worked in residence for six weeks and this enabled them to formulate their ideas by familiarising themselves with the locations and talking with local people, including schools, who were encouraged to visit their workshops to see the sculptures taking shape. The artists’ brief allowed as much creative freedom as possible to produce site-specific sculpture, which harmonises with the landscape and captures the essence of each unique locality.
 Collectively the sculptures give visual expression to our awareness of the river’s ecology and the need to look after it; individually they foster a profound sense of place, their capacity as seats accommodating an interactive focus for quiet reflection.”

These sculptures were funded and commissioned by the East Cumbria Countryside Project group in 1996. It disbanded in 2008 when funding dried up, but the sculptures are still there even if not officially cared for.

I have already discovered the first two in the last couple of days, ‘WATER CUT’ in Mallerstang and ‘PASSAGE’ in Stenkrith Park, Kirkby Stephen. Today I intended to visit as many of the remaining eight before I ran out of daylight. It would mean more driving than walking, I had plotted a route down the Eden between all the village sites. The satnav on my new phone proved invaluable.

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I’d enjoyed my two nights at the Black Bull in Nateby and they sent me off with a hearty breakfast, I didn’t eat again until I was back home in the evening. I stopped briefly in Kirby Stephen to take that photo of Lady Anne Clifford’s statue which I used yesterday. I noticed this seat with its friendly notice, I didn’t have time for chatting but what a good idea. As the benchmarks have all been sculptured to provide a seat to sit and contemplate this was a good start to the day.P1010658

A mad dash up the scary A66 and I was taking the road into Appleby. A little side lane, Bongate, lead down to an old ford over the Eden by a derelict mill and a small carpark. At the edge of the carpark was a rough looking boulder – could this be the benchmark? It was only when I walked around the other side of it that I could see fully the carved flower. I brushed the leaves aside and sat in it for awhile watching the river flow by. Stunning.

‘THE PRIMROSE STONE’ by Joss Smith at Bongate near Appleby.

Shaped from a nine ton block of St Bees Sandstone, the Primrose Stone magnifies the ‘inscape’ of the much loved first rose of spring. As you approach the sculpture from behind it looks like a rough erratic boulder and the carved petals of the flower at the front come as a surprise. It envelops the sitter in a bowl shape that is positively seductive and, like a primeval satellite dish, amplifies the sights, sounds and smells of the river”.

 Joss Smith lives in London. His work is mainly studio based and traditionally figurative but has recently been making accessible sculptures for public places.

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 I needed more time to explore Appleby but I was soon on the way farther north. I found a bit of roadside parking by the cricket pitch on the outskirts of Temple Sowerby and strode across muddy fields towards the river. You can see the state of the ground after all the heavy rain. The sculpture came as a surprise with the spheres scattered over the surface ripples. There was a distinct feeling of motion as the spheres ran into the river. I loved the ripple effects she had created around each grain.

‘Red River’ by Victoria Brailsford at Temple Sowerby.

“The stepped slabs of Lazonby Sandstone in this sculpture represent the contours of the landscape and its light, shade, pattern, shape and form. The spheres, reminiscent of gigantic pebbles in a fast moving stream, are a powerful evocation of the river and its energy but also, like hugely enlarged grains of sand, recall the origins of sandstone in the shifting sand dunes of Triassic Cumbria”

 Victoria Brailsford’s  work relates to ecological issues and ranges from charcoal drawings to wood carving and large stone sculptures. P1010107P1010110P1010117P1010116P1010140P1010120

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 Back across the boggy fields and reset the satnav for Edenhall, a tiny red sandstone hamlet across the river from Langwathby. I park in a small pull off and ask the couple on the adjoining garden if I’m OK there. They don’t see many strangers in the village and I explain my mission. They are proud of their nearby Benchmark and regale me with their favourites, they haven’t made it to the Water Cut in Mallerstang as yet. I leave them to their pond maintenance and walk down the lane towards the squat red sandstone C12th church. I turn off at the wheel headed cross, the base looks ancient but the shaft as is often the case much more modern, There used to be a manor house down here which explains the churches isolated position surrounded by parkland. It also explains the name of the river bank walk I was about to set of along – The Ladies Walk. Built for the manor house occupants, a level path above the river with old iron railings and stone seats at intervals, fit for a lady. Not sure how far along I would have to go, met a bloke walking the other way but he knew nothing of Benchmarks. Up some steps and there is the sculpture. Two curved pieces of red sandstone in juxtaposition. They have graceful curving lines and wonderfully detailed surface rippling. The low lying one is being gradually covered by green moss and for a moment I think of cleaning it to reveal the detail, but I stop myself in time. These sculptures were specifically envisaged to reflect the landscape and now I feel they are slowly becoming part of it. That is probably hidden praise for the sculptor’s skill in the first place. I was warned that the ongoing path was flooded so I turned tail  and followed the  ladies alongside the ever enlarging river.

‘South Rising’ by Vivien Mousdell on Ladies Walk at Edenhall.

“Made from Lazonby Sandstone, ‘South Rising’ pays tribute to a vigorous ecosystem, representing the river’s perpetual journey and the annually recurring movements of migrating fish and birds. The horizontal stone alludes to the river itself, flowing north, and the tall vertical stone, with perhaps a passing resemblance to Long Meg, inclines south toward the rivers distant source. Chiselled with a surface texture reminiscent of water reflected sunlight, both stones have been carved in sweeping curves like the surrounding landscape, creating a rhythmic energy passing from one to the other”

 Vivien Mousdell trained in ceramics but switched to wood and stone carving and letter cutting. A skilled and versatile artist she has specialised in public commissions such as the stone boundary markers on the Cleveland Way and a variety of wood carvings on the Whitehaven to Ennerdale cycle path. She is also a puppet maker and performer and video artist. Some people are just so talented.

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 Straight up little lanes in picturesque scenery, through Great Salkeld, I need to visit Long Meg and her Daughters on the other side of the river some day. Down there by the river are Lacy’s caves, chambers carved into the soft sandstone, which I distinctly remember from my Eden Way walk all those years ago. There was also an excellent climbing crag which is unfortunately now banned. Public footpaths and access are at a premium along this stretch which is a disgrace. The Settle-Carlisle line comes through the middle of Lazonby, I duck under it and head for the riverside picnic area. The Eden is in full flow. In rather drab surroundings the next benchmark lies low in the grass, can you spot it? P1010747P1010724

This one really is becoming organic. Moss is taking over and obscuring most of the stones’  cyphers. I see the sun or is it moon at one end and that’s about it. I do like the view up to the graceful bridge though.

‘Cypher Piece’ by Frances Pelly at Lazonby.

“The sculptor presents us with a series of puzzles to be decoded. The combined stones mimic the river landscape and contain various references to human history. A sun and moon have been carved at one end of the sculpture representing the winter solstice and a variety of images are portrayed elsewhere, including a fish, a Roman 1996, a Celtic horses head’ a rams horn and decorations taken from a Norse tomb”

 Frances Pelly lives in Orkney. As well as carving stone she also works in bronze.  P1010738P1010732P1010733P1010740

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 Where next? A short drive along the valley to another delightful village, Armathwaite. This a spot I know well having climbed on the riverside crags many happy times. I parked at the bridge and walked through the grounds of the Fox and Pheasant and up into Coombe Woods on a carpet of leaves until quite high above the river and the crags. The path leveled out and there was the carved block in a ring of smaller stones. I could easily pick out the intricate carvings of discarded clothing from the bloke who has gone for a swim. What an imagination, the sculptor’s not mine. I found a lower way back closer to the roaring river. A magic stretch of water.

‘Vista’ by Graeme Mitcheson in Coombs Wood near Armathwaite.

“A solitary walker reaches a plateau in Coombs Wood where beneath him, between the trees, he can see the winding river Eden. Nine stones form an ellipse in clearing. It is a hot day and he removes his clothes and goes for a swim. This sculpture is about walking in the countryside and being at one with nature. The largest of the stones is carved with representations of various items of clothing and a map, which also functions as a sundial. A tiny face depicted on the cap is reference to a series of faces carved on the cliffs below in 1885 by William Mounsey who famously walked the length of the Eden”

 Graeme Mitcheson  lives in Derbyshire. His work is based in traditional stone masonry and he turns his hand to everything from commissions for bird baths and garden ornaments to architectural restoration and memorials.

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 An easy drive and I was parked on the village green at Wetheral near the church. It was just after one o’clock and for the first time I thought I might make the Solway today. A steep little lane took me down to the river and there was the next sculpture on a flat piece of land. This was a large affair, a bench with angels’ wings, cushions and arched panels reflecting the nearby bridge.

‘Flight of Fancy’ by Tim Shutter at Wetheral.

“The steep scale of the wooded bank across the river and the soaring viaduct combine to give the feeling of an outdoor cathedral. ‘Flight of Fancy’ plays with this ecclesiastical sense of lifting the spirit with angel’s wings, church style masonry and very convincingly carved prayer cushions”

 Tim Shutter is a master stone mason in the classical tradition. He is based in London.

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Back on the village green I became distracted by some tiny yellow fungi hidden in the grass -possibly Golden Waxcaps? There’s beauty in the minutiae too. P1010844

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 I was apprehensive of my detour into the centre of Carlisle for my penultimate benchmark. I new there was some parking near the castle so I asked my phone to take me there. It was clever enough to warn me that “the castle may be close today” Despite the heavy traffic delays I eventually arrived in the car park but couldn’t understand how to operate the pay machine. Two ladies took pity on me and as they had just finished their shopping spree gave me there still in time ticket. I felt the day was slipping away with these delays. P1010850

I walked towards the river only to find another car park without charges, the dog walkers used this one. Somehow rivers either bring a city to life or become subjugated into the background. The river Eden in Carlisle is of the latter character – lost between rail, roads and industrial sites or maybe it was the dullness of the afternoon that prejudiced me. The four stones were set in a line in the parkland alongside the river. Strange angular carvings which didn’t relate easily to me, erosion usually produces smoother features. OK they are smooth on one side but I find the other angles jarring.

‘Toward the Sea’ by Hideo Furuta in Bitts Park at Carlisle.

“The four components of this sculpture are manifestations of the sculptor’s intense and mathematical explorations of the stone itself and, almost incidentally, describe a sequence of water eroded stone running parallel with the flow of the river nearby”

 Hideo Furuta sadly died in 2007 aged 57. He was an artist of international standing and was based at a granite quarry  in Dumfries and Galloway. P1010853P1010861P1010862

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 Maybe I was a bit harsh about Carlisle as I know from my trip on the Hadrian Wall path that the Eden is in magnificent form either side of the city. Anyhow I was pleased to find an easy way out of the city to my last destination, the village of Rockcliffe on the Eden before it slips into the Solway.

The clock had turned three and the light was fading and I couldn’t find anywhere to park. I eventually used the carpark of a nearby pub and walked on down past the church to a little red cliffed bay area next to the river. Flood debris showed that it is often underwater. At the end I could see my final benchmark and thankfully it was a thing of beauty reminding me bizarrely of the amoebae I used to study under the microscope. How does the sculptor achieve such smoothness and shapes out of a block of sandstone? My only thought is that it could have been positioned closer to the Solway estuary itself but there may have been practical reasons against that. Here I saw the river slipping around the corner into that unseen estuary. I found a place to sit inside it and watched the sun fading in the greyness over the flat marshlands.

‘Global Warming’ by Anthony Turner at Rockcliffe.

“The title of this sculpture is indicative of its global perspective. Situated where the river Eden flows out to sea there is an expanding awareness of the wider world. It could simply be a huge sea creature washed onto the shore but it conveys the sense of an even bigger scale. There is a mysterious pregnant silence about it and it resembles a planet earth held carefully in a hand. The term global warming is now ominously synonymous with the world overheating yet we would like it to mean a nurturing, life enhancing glow”

 Anthony Turner was born in Kenya. A self taught painter and sculptor.  Recalling his childhood in Africa his sculptures are organic, exotic and sensual.

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 What a journey. I didn’t expect to reach all the Benchmarks today but time just seemed to flow for me. You must admit these sculptures are so impressive and yet so diverse. At each one I felt a strong connection with the artist, the stone and the setting. It is too late for me to rewalk the Eden Way but wouldn’t that be a finer way to appreciate the river and take in these works of art.

I’m back home after an easy motorway journey from Carlisle and preparing to visit my cousin and her husband down in Derbyshire. In the past I have shared walks with him but now he has advanced dementia and is bed bound.  Maybe I’ll show him some pictures of the River Eden.