Or, how to be a path purist
So a final farewell to Devizes and the horses, back home via Woodhenge and home in time for tea and to greet my little pussy cat boys after 8 days away.
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Or, how to be a path puristI told you the mileage would go down and the quaffage would go up once Pete got here. Annie and Graeme and Adam and Karen also came up on Saturday. We had a short stroll around Avebury followed by several pints in the Red Lion. My friend the barman said he didn't recognise me without my hiking gear on! Then back into Devizes for several more pints at the Black Horse near Caen Hill Locks. This pub had quite possibly the worst / most comical method of ordering food. We were told that a couple of things were of the menu, then a couple more and so it went on. "Tell us what you have got," says Annie "and we'll order that." So we do. Then a few minutes later they come back to tell us that's off as well. A&K's meal was completely overlooked and arrived much later. They also ran out of ice and Jack Daniels. Sunday was a case of meeting up from our respective B&B's for a final marvel at the Caen Hill locks before wending our ways homewards. Now, whilst I didn't mind so much that I had missed a few miles of the path to fit in with the buses, I was perturbed that I hadn't got near enough to the horse at Alton Barnes to actually tickle its ears, as I had with each of the others. And so Pete and I set off on a lovely walk to see it up close and personal. The Alton Barnes 'Henry' is on Milk Hill, one of the highest points in Wiltshire and you can see it for miles around. Can also see the Cherhill monument and the Pewsey horse from up there. The Alton Barnes horse was cut in 1812 and paid for twice as the person originally paid £20 in advance absconded with the money. He was later caught and found guilty for a number of crimes for which he was hanged. After tickling the ears, we walked over to Adam's Grave, a neolithic chambered long barrow. Nice. Turns out the little 7.5 mile loop I had planned was like the trail in summary - canal tow path, a bit of the Wessex Ridgeway, amazing views across the Vale of Pewsey and to Avebury and Silbury Hill, glacially scooped out hill sides with paragliders, a chalk horse, an ancient monument, a pretty village and a pub! In fact, could have just done this and saved myself the strain of the other 94 miles! But this was a great walk on a sunny day. And of course I wouldn't have missed the rest of the walk - I thoroughly enjoyed myself and all the local history was amazing. Can't believe how much there is crammed into such a small space. Big up to the ancestors.
So a final farewell to Devizes and the horses, back home via Woodhenge and home in time for tea and to greet my little pussy cat boys after 8 days away.
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Including an Alien Abduction at HoneystreetLast of the long walks today. Packed my trekking sandals in the rucksack and headed into Devizes for the bus to Pewsey. I had some time before the bus arrived, so popped into chemist to get some surgical tape. The Compeed all came off after my bath last night. I think they have changed it 'cos it used to stick to your feet for ages, and now the slightest bit of heat and water turns it to a gluey mess and it falls off. Pointless. I fear it is a ruse to get more money from us. I also got some local cheese, the yummiest pork pie ever and some peaches from the farmers market all for £1.50. Bargain. Still taking the antihistamines as am now up to at least 8 horse fly bites and they are all rather red, swollen and itchy. Lovely. My bus driver told me he used to be a shepherd and that he used Autan to keep the blighters at bay and Waspeze if he was bitten. So these babies are on the shopping list for next adventure. Resorting to more traditional blister prevention methods, I taped my toes up once I got off the bus. And then off to see my last 2 horses and to finish the trail. Well it wasn't difficult to get to the gorgeous little hoss at Pewsey - he was directly in front of me when I alighted the bus, so it was just a matter of climbing the rather steep hill up to him. This is the second youngest of the horses, having been cut by volunteers of the Pewsey Fire Brigade in 1937 to commemorate the coronation of King George VI. I loved the fact that the sign on the gate to the enclosure read "Animals Please Shut the Gate." But how would their little paws / hooves be able to manage such a feat? And how would they have been able to open it in the first place? It was another lovely high level walk across to the village of Manningford Bruce and then I ran out of path and into nettles and thistles once again! It should have been easy...point north until reach canal. But a criss-cross of footpaths and non-paths led me astray, and although I cursed at the nettles, I did like the field full of piglets that I crossed. I knew I was right once I got to Swanborough Tump. I think Tump is an old dialect word for mound. The inscribed stone reads "Swanborough Tump - Swinbeorg c850. Here in the year 871 the future King Alfred the Great met his elder brother King Aethelred I on their way to fight the invading Danes and each one swore if the other died in battle the dead man's children would inherit the lands of their father King Aethelwulf." Sandals on at this point, boots in rucksack. From here it was a direct line to join the towpath of the Kennet & Avon canal that would take me all the way back into Devizes. I joined the canal at the rather fancy Lady's Bridge. The landowner did not want the canal to cross his land and so the family insisted that the bridge be made to look ornamental rather than the more functional brick bridges elsewhere and that the canal was widened to look like a lake and planted with water lilies where it passed near their mansion. A little way further along and I was glad to see the Barge Inn at Honeystreet which markets itself as "the international centre for crop circle enthusiasts." It's in a fabulous location and has its own microbrewery, so I was obliged to try both the Croppie and the Alien Abduction. But the place itself was a bit too dippy hippy for me (I had forgotten to pack my nose flute and runes, but then again I was wearing socks and sandals).
As I headed off, the final insult to my battered, bruised, scratched and bitten legs was being pinged with the hook from a bungee which flew off a tethered dog that leapt up at me on the way past. And then the last 6 miles back into Devizes. My final chat along the towpath was with a chap who was renovating his barge in order to make money to travel to Australia. His barge was called Solsbury Hill, which I thought was very apt as I had been singing it all week. I finished with a view of the final horse at Alton Barnes, cats in canal boats and the sunset over the water as I hobbled towards my own white horse at Devizes, my guiding beacon each night home. Trail over, job done. 94 miles covered in 5 days and I'm giving myself the day off tomorrow to visit the Canal Museum and see the gold from Stonehenge at the Wiltshire Museum. Really looking forward to seeing Pete again tomorrow. Already thinking about the Two Moors way for next spring. Including a rakish pint at the Outside ChanceToday saw me once again on the now familiar 49 bus from Devizes, through Avebury and on to Broad Hinton. I keep bumping into the barman from the Red Lion at Avebury on the bus. He doesn't look old enough to drink, never mind work behind a bar (oh dear, another sign of getting older!) This morning there was also an American lady on the bus who told me that she was a lecturer in Mesopotamian history and was here to attend a conference (probably the one on crop circles in Devizes methinks!) As we passed Silbury Hill, I was saying how it was contemporaneous to the pyramids and how rich this area is in Neolithic and Bronze Age culture (since she was asking about Avebury). She then attempted to tell me that Bronze Age Britain basically had no culture as it was only those Mesopotamians and the Egyptians / Greeks. An American, telling a Britisher about history, well I ask you! I politely suggested that she might want to see the collection of ancient gold, amber and jade at the Wiltshire Museum where she could also read up on neolithic and bronze age ritual, royalty and religion and that simple working people lived in pretty much the same conditions the world over...an American, indeed! The route took me across fields and up a very steep hill to the graceful little horse trotting along at Hackpen just below the Ridgeway, The Hackpen horse was cut in 1838 by the local parish clerk Henry Eatwell (great name) to commemorate Queen Victoria's coronation. As I climbed up onto the Ridgeway, I was asked by some Germans if I knew where the crop circle was. I didn't. Then I thought, do I look like the sort of person who knows where crop circles are? And then I thought, yes, I do! Then it was a long stretch across another part of Fyfield Down (more sarcen stones) and a drop down by the gallops towards Marlborough, which seemed to go on forever. My feet were on fire and, as the way was now all over grass, I took my boots off and walked with just my socks on. Heaven! I understand the appeal of barefoot running now. Tomorrow I am donning socks and sandals and I don't care what that looks like.
I had to put my boots back on once I got to the village of Manton and was just about able to hobble into a very nice pub there called The Outside Chance - obviously with a racing connection. There were three rakish types who insisted I join them with my pint and asked if I wanted to dine with them - they were ordering scallops and pints of prawns. I declined, also the offer of a lift back to Devizes in the shiny black vintage Daimler parked outside. They were very funny, clearly enjoyed a bit of a gamble and the high life and laughed that they had tried to tempt me away from my white horse, but I wouldn't be persuaded. Anyhow, as usual, a cold pint on a hot day was thoroughly reviving and thus regenerated I headed off to the grounds of Marlborough college in the nearby village of Preshute for horse number 6. He was cut in 1804 by boys from a local school in a walking pose and is a very slender chap. Years of chalk downshifting have built up the lower legs and belly, increasing the foreshortening effect and making him look like an anorexic diplodocus to me. Another steep climb to follow a section of the Saxon Wansdyke path through cool beech woods and then one final turn up the stunning Avenue of standing stones to return to Avebury where I got the bus back with the barman (we sat on separate seats though, I don't know him that well!) Last 2 horses tomorrow. When I got back, I was looking up about the Outside Chance pub as a possible one to return to with Pete at the weekend and it turns out that one of my rakish new chums was actually its millionaire part owner. Perhaps I should have accepted the kind offer of the lift in the Daimler after all! Including a diversion to Trowbridge and more horse fliesDiscovered the local buses run to their own timetable - one which bears no resemblance to those on the internet or at the actual bus stops. I was hoping to get the 08.50 bus directly to Bratton (as per internet timetable) but it was a no show, and the only direct bus shown at the bus stop was at 7.30. What gives? Ended up going to Trowbridge and then down to the start of my walk from there. To be fair, Trowbridge is a very pretty town and I was able to pick up a replacement pay as you go phone for 99p whilst there. And a load of antihistamine tablets. I know I'm walking the white horse way, but I am not an actual horse so I would like to say a big naff off to the evil horse flies. Leave me alone you buggers. I also got some more compeed and fashioned myself a new little toe for my left foot (Christy Brown style??) Anyway, this little diversion meant that I didn't start walking until about 11.30 which is late for a 20 miler. As I was walking back last night, I passed a field with what looked like a reconstruction of an iron age village in it. Funny, I thought, I don't remember seeing anything about this. On closer inspection (I really am going to have to start wearing my glasses while I'm walking) it turned out to be a piggery. I mentioned this to Tony my landlord at breakfast this morning and he said that was where my locally produced award winning sausages were from, so thanks piggly wigs - delicious. And it is good to know exactly where your food comes from. The horse at Bratton (also called the Westbury horse) is a stunner. He is standing square just below, you guessed it, an Iron Age hill fort called Bratton camp. It is the oldest and the biggest of the Wiltshire 8 and was made to cover a much older strange-looking horse - you can see the probable design of the original if you expand on the black printed picture. I think the original was a stallion! An appropriately named Mr. G Gee cut the new horse in 1778. He did not like the old (possibly Bronze Age, oh the horror of it all) horse and so completely covered it with his own design based on the currently fashionable artist Stubbs. It was concreted over in the 1950's as it suffered badly from erosion, which is great for visibility and maintenance but a shame that the traditional chalk has gone. However, you could argue that the concrete is fitting in that it overlooks the now defunct Westbury cement works in the valley below. I picked up the Imber Ranges Perimeter path from the summit of the camp and headed west for the long walk back to Devizes. The path runs along the edge of the army firing ranges and looks down over Sailsbury Plain. Imber is a village given over to the MOD in WW2 - like Tyneham in the Purbecks. It is only accessible at Easter and during August when the MOD open the road. There is a good article about it here.
Not long after starting down the path, I had to 'use the facilities'. No-one around for miles, so time for a quick tinkle 'en plein air'. What I didn't do was look up. Too late, several hang-gliders and paragliders overhead...just needed the Red Arrows for an official fly past!!! Although it was easy to follow, the path is more of a stony track and with the heat (it was very, very hot) this only contributed more towards my sore little tootsies, shame. But onward the path went, with fantastic views over the plain on my right and the valley on my left. From the high ground I could also see the horses at Cherhill and Alton Barnes, as well as the Lansdowne Monument at Cherhill. In fact, the monument was visible on most of my walks. It's a shame I can't take any pictures. My camera is still drying out with my phone in a bag of rice. I skirted around the village of Market Lavington then turned northwards to Urchfont. What a pretty village it was. Traditional duck pond, gorgeous thatched cottages and a superb pub, The Lamb. I was hot, tired and very thirsty. A couple of pints of Amstel went down a treat and the atmosphere was most conducive to staying for several more. However, I still had 5 miles to go and wanted to get back before dark. So I bade a sad farewell to the good folk at the Lamb and started off up the hill towards Devizes. I was aware there was a new crop circle not far off the path at Etchilhampton Hill, but at this stage in the proceedings I simply couldn't add another couple of miles on, which was a pity as I would have liked to have seen it. As I crested the hill ready to drop back down into Devizes, the sun was setting with a beautiful red glow over Devizes ahead of me to my right and their white horse on my left following my own little ley line back to the B&B for a late finish at 9.30pm. Miles covered 20, White Horses 4, horse fly bites 6, number of people that have probably seen me weeing today 16! Today's walk was bloody hard work in the scorching heat. So scorchio in fact that the fire brigade were out to a field fire. Had a lovely walk around the Bronze Age White Horse and Iron Age fort at Uffington and then along the ridgeway to the long barrow at Wayland's Smithy. After that we crossed some golden wheat fields and looped back up via the racehorse practice gallops in the Lambourne valley. Enjoyed a well earned ice cream back at the car. I had some lovely photos that Pete took, but can't upload them for now. So here are some from the internet. I was wondering why you could only see the horse properly from above. The best theories I can find are from the excellent guide http://www.wiltshirewhitehorses.org.uk/uffington.html: The horse-goddess Epona was worshipped by the Celts in Gaul, and she had a British counterpart, Rhiannon, so the horse may have been cut by those worshipping her cult. Alternatively the horse could have been cut by worshipers of the sun god Belinos, who was also associated with horses. Either way, the horse would have been cut so as to be seen from above by the god or goddess.
Wayland's Smithy (not to be confused with a character from the Simpsons) was once believed to be inhabited by the Saxon god of metal working, Wayland. He was thought to shoe horses for those who left them overnight at the Smithy with a silver coin as payment. In fact 14 people were buried there nearly 4000 years ago. It feels like connecting with the ancestors. The B&B is superb. Wonderful hosts and home-made cake on arrival. Yummy. And a heated swimming pool. Pete headed off home and left me to my own Devizes (geddit?) for the next week. And then a mishap occurred. And before you ask, no I wasn't. But it was dark and I tripped over a tree root on the canal path on the way back from dinner. I dropped the torch and my bum bag went into the canal with camera and phone in it. Then I fell into a massive bed of nettles as I fished the bag out of the water. Hence not being able to upload photos. Or take any more. Or use my phone. I also look like I've got measles all on my arms and legs and they sting like mad. I have been slathering on the Anthisan - seems to be helping. Think will adjust plans for shorter walk tomorrow as legs so stingy mc'tingly. Ouch! And double ouch re the gadgets. The phone was cheap enough, but the camera was a nice one......here's hoping they will dry out ok. |
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