Showing posts with label UK-England-Devon. Show all posts

Wednesday, 25 May 2022

Torquay and Around (2): Buckfast Abbey, Newton Abbot and Compton Castle

A Resurrected Abbey, a Fine Local Museum and a Historic Castle

A Brief Introduction

Devon

Torbay

Torquay and Around (1) dates back to April 2016, but we have spent a few days with Brian and Hilary every year (Covid permitting) since their move to Devon. The lack of blogs from the intervening years is no reflection on our generous hosts, it is just a combination of what we did, the weather and other commitments, bloggy or otherwise.

They live in a spacious third floor apartment with a fabulous view of the sea from their living room window, and a sheltered sun-trap of a balcony on the landward side. There was, though, precious little sun to trap this year.

B & H's sea view, Torquay

Never mind, we got about between the showers. The following visits took place on the 23-25 of May in roughly the order below.

Buckfast Abbey is near Buckfastleigh, and Compton Castle is roughly half way between Newton Abbot and Paignton

Buckfast Abbey

The little village of Buckfast and its larger neighbour Buckfastleigh, sit on the edge of Dartmoor a 40-minute drive from Torquay.

A Benedictine Abbey was founded in or near Buckfast in 1018. The site of the Saxon church is unknown, but by Benedictine standards it was ‘poor and unprosperous’ (Buckfast Abbey History). In 1136 King Stephen gave Buckfast to the Savignacs, who merged with the Cistercians in 1146 who could easily afford to build a sizeable Abbey on the current site.

The modern Buckfast Abbey, not the 1146 version (photographed on a sunny day in April 2017)

The abbey thrived, and by the 14th century fishing and the wool trade had made it one of the wealthiest in south-west England.

Buckfast Abbey interior

In 1539 the Dissolution of the Monasteries saw the lead stripped from the roof and the walls demolished, the stone being eagerly re-used by local builders.

The hair shirt of St Thomas More, above the altar of a side-chapel, Buckfast Abbey

In 1882 a group of French Benedictine monks bought the site with the intention of re-founding the monastery. The Abbey was formally reinstated in 1902 and Abbot Anscar Vonier, finding materials and expertise where he could, set about building a new church on the footprint of the former abbey church. The work was completed in 1938 and the Abbey has continued to the present day, now having about a dozen monks.

One of the delights of previous visits has been the shop, with handicrafts from abbeys all over Europe and, more to my taste, treats like Trappist beers from Belgian monasteries and rillettes – strangely difficult to find in this country – from an abbey in France. This time the shop was almost empty, the treats vanished. There was no clear explanation, but this is another of the ‘advantages’ of Brexit.

Coleton Fishacre and a Picnic

The full story of Coleton Fishacre is told in Torquay (1), but we also visited the garden in 2017 and again this year. The house, just outside Brixham, is owned by the National Trust, but was built for the D’Oyly Carte family in the 1920s. It is a fine example of an early 20th century country house.

Coleton Fishacre

The garden tumbles down a narrow valley to the sea. Aided by a warm microclimate the gardeners have produced something special, though there was more colour in our visits in the April sunshine than on this dank May day.

Gunnera - huge and heavily armed it feels a most threatening plant, Coleton Fishacre

We had taken a picnic, so braving the weather, we drove up nearby Scabbacombe Lane to a suitable spot. For a brief while the clouds obligingly parted and the sun shone, though with negligible warmth. Even this half-hearted reprieve was short lived and we opted out of the planned coastal walk.

Cool Picnic, Scabbacombe Lane

Newton Abbot

For most visitors, Newton Abbot is the gateway to Torquay. Whether arriving from Exeter on the A380 or Okehampton on the A382, you have to deal with all or part of the town. On a couple of occasions, I have spent more time traversing Newton Abbot than I considered reasonable, and I did not think fondly of the town. However, when a visit was suggested, I went with an open mind. I had set wheel in Newton Abbot but never foot, so it deserved another chance.

The Newton Abbot Town and GWR Museum

Recently rehoused in a 19th century church in the town centre, the cunningly designed and well thought out museum packs a great deal into a relatively small space.

Local History

Between 1246 and 1251 the New Town of the Abbot (that’s the Abbot of Torre in Torquay, not Buckfast, there were plenty to choose from in those days) was given the right to hold a weekly market on Wednesdays. Across the little River Lemon, Newtown Bushell (the Bushells were local landowners) gained the same right for Tuesdays. There was enough trade for both to flourish and the arrangement continued until 1633 when the markets and towns combined under the name of Newton Abbott. The Lemon, rising on the flank of Haytor on Dartmoor and 10 miles later flowing into the head of the Teign estuary, now runs beneath the centre of Newton Abbot in a 400m long tunnel. Lemon is derived from a Celtic word for elm, the citrus groves of Devon remain just a potential benefit of global warming.

The South Devon and the GWR

The South Devon Railway arrived in Newton Abbot in 1846. Brunel used the Teignmouth – Newton Abbot stretch to experiment with an ‘atmospheric railway’, a train driven by air pressure. It was a popular idea at the time and the small-scale model in the museum works perfectly but even Brunel could not make it work at large scale.

By 1876 most railways serving the southwest had become part of the Great Western Railway. The GWR developed repair and maintenance sheds at Newton Abbot and by 1930 they employed 1,000 workers. The sheds have all gone now and Newton Abbot’s days as a railway town are over, but the museum has a mock up of an old signal box, and where signals along the line were changed by pulling levers directly connected to them. Anyone can have a go, it is great fun for children of all ages, and for children of my age (70+) it is a comforting moment of 1950s nostalgia.

Two other exhibits to catch my eye were the ‘diving machine’ and the ‘foeffee chest’.

John Lethbridge’s Diving Machine

Wool merchant turned inventor, John Lethbridge perfected his diving machine in his garden pond in Newton Abbot before taking it to London and displaying it to the masses. On that occasion he was lowered into the water from a boat and stayed there for half an hour. He could see, downwards at least, through a glass ‘window’ and could use his arms inside the leather sleeves. To what purpose? One might ask. In his first commercial venture off Cape Verde, he retrieved 27 cases of silver, 868 slabs of lead, 64 cannons and 11 anchors.

Modern replica of John Lethbridge's diving engine

‘Silver fishing’ was big business, but highly dangerous. Fishers were dependent on being hauled up at the right time, and failures of the winch, ropes, pulleys or seals were usually fatal.

John Lethbridge died in his bed in 1759 aged 83, having made his last dive two years earlier

Feoffee Chest

A wonderful word and a wonderful chest: the Parish of Woolborough (long ago absorbed into Newton Abbot) kept its important documents in this chest. It has eight locks and each of the eight feoffees (trustees) had a key to one of them so all had to be present to open it. Eventually it was replaced by a dull but efficient safe and was lost. It was rediscovered in the attic of Newton Abbot workhouse in 1896. Over the centuries the many feoffees included Parliamentarian General Sir William Waller and the diver John Lethbridge.

Feoffee chest, Newton Abbot Musuem

After the museum, we had intended to explore Newton Abbott on foot, but the weather had other ideas, so we drove south to Compton Castle.

Compton Castle

Getting There

Newton Abbot to Compton is 4 mile down the A380 to the delightfully named village of Ipplepen, then left toward Paignton (silent ‘g’) along the less charmingly monikered Gropers Lane.

Ipplepen Info claims the name has Celtic origins and has been variously spelled over the years (where hasn’t?) The more authoritative Nottingham University Key to English Place Names says it is Old English, and it was here Ipela penned his animals. But for the village, Ipela would have been as forgotten as the unfortunately named Snot who donated his name to Nottingham (I jest not).

I have found no information about Gropers Lane, but such names and more vulgar variations (sniff the smelling salts, Fanny, before looking at Wikipedia) were common in medieval cities and denoted a street of brothels. Sensibilities change and so do names, over time many morphed into Grove Lane or Grape Lane. But this was an urban phenomenon, and every one of the 1,945 metres (streetlist.co.uk) of Gropers Lane is relentlessly rural.

The Gilbert’s Castle

Compton Castle, now owned by the National Trust, is more of a fortified manor house than a castle, but it is a magnificent fortified manor.

Compton Castle

Sir Maurice de la Pole had a castellated house here in the reign of King Henry II (1154–1189). Later, the manor passed into the hands of the Compton family who built an undefended manor house in the mid-14th century. The Comptons gave way to the Gilberts who added the fortress-like front in the 1520s.

Through the forbidding gatehouse with double portcullises…

Gatehouse, Compton Castle

…is a quadrangle with a chapel on the right...

Courtyard, Compton Castle

...which appears to still be in use.

Chapel, Compton Castle

Sir Humphrey Gilbert

Best known of the Gilberts was Sir Humphrey Gilbert (1539–1583). He and his half-brother Sir Walter Raleigh are alleged to have shared the first pipe of tobacco smoked in England at Compton.

Sir Humphrey was a complex character. His brutality in Ireland where he was involved in putting down the First Desmond Rebellion (1569-73) was extreme even by the standards of the time, while in the mid-1570s he devoted himself to writing and promoting education and the arts. Thereafter he turned to exploration and adventuring, applying himself with more enthusiasm than skill.

In 1583 he led a small fleet to Newfoundland in HMS Squirrel, a ship that had featured in some of his earlier adventures. The way the story is spun one might assume he discovered Newfoundland though John Cabot had been there 90 years earlier and St John’s was a well-established port occupied, if only seasonally, by fishermen.

Gilbert arrived, claimed Newfoundland and all surrounding land for Queen Elizabeth, accepted the gift of a dog from the locals and then he set off home. HMS Squirrel foundered in a storm off the Azores and Gilbert drowned. In his memory, squirrel motifs abound at Compton Castle.

A Squirrel on one of the chapel pews

And in memory of all the Tudor adventurers and legitimised pirates there is usually a volunteer somewhere on the premises in Tudor costume.

There is still at least one Tudor at Compton Castle

After the Tudors

The Gilberts sold the estate in 1785. The need for fortified manors had passed, the castle was allowed to deteriorate and eventually the Great Hall roof fell in. Walter Raleigh Gilbert, a young naval officer and a Gilbert descendant bought the ruin in 1931. In 1951, after much rebuilding and restoration, he donated Compton to the National Trust on the condition that members of the family should continue to occupy the castle. They still do, administering it for the Trust.

The Rest of the Castle

The chapel and Great Hall form opposite sides of a quadrangle. The Great Hall with Sub Solar and Solar behind are open to the public. The private residence is in a large wing forming the end of the quadrangle and continuing behind, leaving the rest of the enclosed space as a garden.

Walled Garden, Compton Castle

Sadly, no photographs were allowed inside. The Great Hall, filled with Gilbert memorabilia, has the feel of a medieval hall, despite the new roof. With modern furniture the Sub Solar has a veneer of modern comfort, while the Solar, reached by a vertiginous 15th century spiral staircase, feels more spartan. There is a small ‘snug’ beyond, but the vast fireplace and modern heating equipment are a reminder of how difficult it is to heat a building of this age to modern standards.

The kitchen is at the end of the main wing. A warm if rather smoky place, it was once a separate building so any inadvertent fire could be easily contained. The trade-off was that, in winter at least, the castle’s inhabitants would never get a hot a meal.

Kitchen, Compton Castle

The Last Evening and Beyond

Hilary had cooked two splendid dinners during our stay so on the last evening she deserved a rest. We ventured out on foot to a harbour side bar for a drink. Despite the ecologically indefensible space heaters on the terrace, the nippy breeze made inside the only sensible choice.

Afterwards we walked round to the Junjaow Thai restaurant. Between the four of us we ate prawn and chicken pad thais, a green curry and two red curries. It is few years since we have been to Thailand and the flavours were authentic enough to bring back pleasant memories.

The next morning, we took our leave. Despite the uncooperative weather, we had spent a very pleasant and convivial few days with Brian and Hilary, eaten and drunk well and visited some interesting places. Thanks to both for their hospitality, and particularly to Hilary for all the hard work in the kitchen and the excellent dinners that work produced.

Tuesday, 4 June 2019

The South West Odyssey: The Last Post

The South West Odyssey was a long distance walk.

Five like-minded people started in 2008 from the Cardingmill Valley in Shropshire and by walking three days a year finished at Start Bay on the South Devon Coast in May 2019.

[Links to all 31 posts can be found at the end of this one]

So, it is finished. After 36 days walking over 12 years we have arrived at the end.

On our journey from the Shropshire Hills to South Devon we walked 660km through 5 counties: Shropshire, Worcestershire, Gloucestershire, Somerset and Devon,

The South West Odyssey (English Branch) to use its full name

crossed two National Parks (purple on the map):

Exmoor

Exmoor was a delight, dry springy ground to walk on and blue sky above. (Day 25)

and Dartmoor,

Dartmoor ponies and Haytor Tor, Dartmoor (Day 31)
Wet, misty and boggy, I did not get the best of Dartmoor (though others fared better)

and 6 of England’s 34 ‘Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty’ (yellow on the map)

The Shropshire Hills

Alison on the top of Caer Caradoc in the Shropshire Hills (Day 1)
Our starting point, the Cardingmill Valley in the Long Mynd, is just the other side of Church Stretton, the town in the valley

The Malvern Hills

On the Malvern Ridge. (Day 6)
Here the path descends before the climb to the Herefordshire Beacon

The Cotswolds

Natural beauty is not always enhanced by human activity, but sometimes..... (Day 11)
Bagenden Church has a 15th century nave and a Norman tower, but this site was used for religious observance long before Christianity or the Romans came to these shores

The Mendip Hills

Our trip across the Mendips started with a gentle climb up to a dull, flat grassy plain. Ho, hum.
Then suddenly the ground dropped away, down to the village of Wookey Hole. Glastonbury Tor can also be seen on the skyline two-thirds left (Day 17)

The Quantock Hills

The Quantocks gave us a lovely walk in pleasant sunshine along a high(ish) moorland ridge (Day 22)

South Devon

Most of our time in the South Devon AONB was spent on the coastal path. (Day 35)
I think we were all impressed and perhaps surprised by the variety of scenery and walking conditions we met on our litoral perambulation

We crossed many rivers and streams including

The Rea, the Teme, the Severn,

The River Severn at Upton-upon-Severn (Day 7)

the Churn, the Chew, the Brue, the Cary,

The River Cary struggling to flow across the Somerset Levels (Day 19)

the Parrett, the Tone, the Barle,

The River Barle at Withybridge on Exmoor. It shortly joins the Exe and together they continue south to Exeter (where else?)
I took the photo from outside a café which sells a memorable cream tea (Day 25)

the Teign, the Dart, the Webburn,

The exuberant little River Webburn rushes down from Dartmoor and under Buckland Bridge to join the Dart a drop-kick behind my back when I took the photo. (Day 31)
The bridge, built in the 1780s to replace an earlet version, was payed for by public subscription

and no less than three River Avons (or should that be Rivers Avon), Shakespeare’s Avon.

Crossing 'Shakespeare's', the largest of the Avons, in Worcestershire not far above its confluence with the Severn (Day 7)

the ‘Bristol' Avon

Walking the Avon Way. We crossed the river where it is joined by the Chew in Keynsham (Day 16)

and the ‘Devon’ Avon (twice)

Francis and I on the magnificent Huntingdon Warren Clapper Bridge over the young River Avon on Dartmoor (Day 33)

and let us not forget the mighty Cressal Brook on Day 2

Brian swings across a chasm to cross the Cressall Brook (Day 2)

We also crossed the M5 (twice) and the M4, but I will spare you the photos.

Homer’s Odyssey described a ten-year journey across a small part of the eastern Mediterranean. It clearly did not involve a direct route. Neither did ours; after 3 years walking we were well east of our starting point, and on Day 12 ('Around Stroud on the Cotswold Scarp') we walked 18km and finished only 6km form our starting point. But then, it was about the journey, not the destination.

I asked the other Ody-ists for their comments. The brief was deliberately vague, the only stipulation was 150 words – and that was ignored by all. Francis decided to write about the route, he did all the route planning and booking of accommodation, a difficult job done supremely well, so he has earned the right.

THE ROUTE PLANNER SPEAKS

As the guy who plans each year’s walk, I have to say that it has been an excellent walk with each year taking us through fantastic scenery (even in the Somerset Levels). There have been four occasions when we have veered off the general south or south west trend. First, after we completed the traverse of the Malverns we headed east to climb Bredon Hill and get in line for the Cotswolds. Second, I encountered my only opposition to my route planning in the Cotswolds. Alison, with local knowledge (she lives in Cheltenham), correctly decided my route was rubbish and instigated the infamous ‘Alison Loop’ which we had to walk in inclement weather. Our third veering off was after we walked The Levels, we headed north west along the Quantocks and did a short stretch of the Somerset Coast between Watchet and Blue Anchor. And our final veering off was on the very last day after clearing Prawle Point and Start Point we headed north into Start Bay for a convenient point to set off for home.

Francis

It was a brilliant route with a huge variety of countryside and took me (and, I expect, others) to places I had never been before. The ‘Alison Loop’ was the Day 12 referred to above; it would have been an excellent walk but for the lousy weather. And I rather liked the Somerset Levels.

The Somerset Levels viewed from the towering height of Lollover Hill, all 90m of it (Day 19)

Mike, though, was less concerned with the mechanics of the route..

Has it really been twelve years of memorable three-day walks in order to reach Britain's south Devon coast from Shropshire? Yes, but my memories are not so much of wonderful English countryside, though there was much of that, but of the friends that I walked with and the shared experiences. The times I, and often others, spent walking varying distances behind Francis…

I had no shortages of pictures of Francis' back to choose from. Here we are entering Withypool on Exmoor at the end of Day 24

…. and the secret pleasure gained when, on occasions, he was behind me!

I don't have many pictures like this. Knowstone Inner Moor (Day 26)

Full English breakfasts,…

Full English, Brownstone Farm, between Exmoor and Dartmoor (Day 27)
(and Lynne does not even have the excuse of walking it off)

…. coffees at eleven and rarely before.

Coffee at Fire Beacon on the Quantocks. This photo timed at 11.21 (Day 22)

Pints at pubs at lunchtime,…

We are joined by Lynne and Heather for lunchtime pints in the garden of the Cross House, Doynton (Day 15)

… and stings in the tail – the short sharp hills at the ends of the day’s walks.

After climbing over Glastonbury Tor the little Wearyall Hill lived up to its name
The sting in the tail of Day 18 (and surely that's Francis' white hat 50m behind!)

But most of all the opportunities to catch up with and share family news with a small group of special people who became great friends over the years. Thanks everyone. And if I have to pick my favourite bit of the whole walk it would have be the last two of all, from Outer Hope to Torcross, a quite spectacular coast path.

Mike

I would also like to mention the many convivial dinners we have shared.

Brian and a huge fish, the Star Inn, Watchet (Day 23)
And a pint of that nasty, cloudy cider that is so popular in those parts but tastes like wet, rotting wood (so I won't be welcome back!)

I know Alison was interested in the route, but she chose instead to concentrate on time’s wingéd chariot.

Looking back, my thoughts go immediately to the changes we have all seen in our lives - getting older, retiring, children getting older and having children of their own. My biggest change has been moving away from Stafford, leaving Francis and starting a new life with a new partner. I feel tremendously grateful to Francis and the others, to have been able to continue the walk despite this change. On a practical level, it meant I could do the walks as a day trip from home for a couple of years, as we walked through the Cotswolds. Apart from all that, I have felt a bit of the "odd one out" as the only woman - especially with my sense that the other wives thought I was mad to want to walk all day. But it has been great to meet up in the evenings - always Lynne, sometimes Alison and Hilary. I have enjoyed the companionship of the walking, and the evenings, and what could be better than walking through the English countryside in the spring

No Alison, you were never in any meaningful way an “odd one out”. Although Lynne, Hilary and Alison T did indeed think you were mad – but that was their opinion of all of us (and I harbour a sneaking suspicion they might be right.)

As for other changes, Brian was the only retired member of the party in 2008, now none of us does a stroke of work and we all leach off society. And, yes, we could all supply a picture of a grandchild or two who did not exist in 2008, but if you look at the photographs of before….

Cardingmill Valley, May 2008 (Day 1)

...and after

Torpoint, Devon, May 2019 (Day 36)

…it is clear we all look younger than we did at the start (and if you'll believe that....).

Having talked about the route, the countryside and the people, perhaps I should finish with the wildlife.

I am no a birder myself, but Francis and Brian are, and I have tried to faithfully record everything they identified. If anybody wants to trawl through all 31 posts and compile a bird list, good luck to them. I will merely mention what I believe to be the highlights: common cranes circling above us on the Somerset Levels (Day 20) and cirl bunting on the south Devon coast (Day 35). Sorry no photos, that is beyond my capabilities.

Nor do I have photos of the fox strolling across James (vacuum cleaner) Dyson’s Cotswold Estate (Day 15), the muntjac deer running across the low-lying land beside the River Parrett (Day 20) or an Exmoor Stag. There were rabbits and squirrels, too, and possibly a hare that went unrecorded. I do have photographs of Dartmoor ponies (right at the start) and Exmoor and Quantock ponies, which are just about wild.

Exmoor ponies, Trisscombe (Day 25)

..and a slow worm on Day 35!

A slow worm basking in the sunshine on the South Devon Coastal Path (Day 35)

Farm animals featured as well, and they are easier to photograph. There were cute spring lambs in abundance…

Spring lambs near Exford (Day 25)

….young bullocks that run in packs in the spring, energetic, exuberant and supremely stupid…

This lot galloped round to cut us off at the gate....then meekly backed down, Avon Estuary (Day 34)

…the odd self-important cockerel...

Look at me, I am beautiful. Williton, Somerset (Day 22)

....rather more alpacas than I had expected....

These Alpacas near Chew Lake in Somerset (Day 16) were not the only alpacas we encountered

....and what would Gloucestershire be without its Old Spot pigs?

Gloucester Old Spots (Day 13)

That just about wraps it up, so I will leave the last word to Brian, who covered all bases:

For me these walks were more about meeting up with friends and enjoying their company whilst taking part in an outdoor activity rather than where we were. However, you could not fail to be impressed by what we were seeing. My highlights were seeing properties and parkland in the Cotswolds, walking through the Quantocks and meeting my first Quantock pony; seeing an Exmoor Stag in full antler growth standing in the gorse early one morning whilst positioning the car and, of course, the day walking to Prawle Point. Our accommodation varied but none reached the depth of the Commercial Hotel, Colne and I fully appreciate the difficulty that Francis has had each year to find somewhere that offered the particular combination that we required. Our final cottage was different and enjoyable. To finish I would like to thank everyone for their company and Francis for his considerable organisation - a great 12-year Odyssey.

I would like to add my thanks to everybody for your companionship and the way nobody moaned when my slowness held people up, to Francis for all the organisation, to Mike and Alison for dropping back to walk with me on some of the more challenging sections, to Brian and Francis for walking Days 21, 28, 29 and 30 with me when injury prevented me from doing it at the right time, to Hilary for hospitality when making up those days (but a small boo for Dartmoor which held back the vilest weather for those days) and to Lynne for just being there and for TLC. The one year she missed through illness I discovered how many little tasks she did that I then had to do for myself.

And that is it. We have all walked all the way from Shropshire to the South Devon Coast. It is an achievement.

Addendum

There is a little more, including the answer to ‘why did we start in Shropshire when in 2008 we all lived in and around Stafford?’

Before the English Branch there was, in 2005,6,7 The South West Odyssey (Welsh Branch).

South West Odyssey, English and Welsh Branch

And before that (roughly 2001-4) there was Go North when we walked (more than three days a year) from Stafford to Hadrian’s Wall.

The two Odysseys and Go North

And before that in 1998 (or was it 1999 - in the days before digital cameras nice clear dates are unavailable) there was Go West when we walked from Stafford to Barmouth on the Welsh Coast, linking Go West to the Welsh branch of the Odyssey, which links to the English Branch. But we started the latter two walks from different places in Stafford, fortunately the Stafford Wheel (2006-8) links everything together.

The two Odysseys, Go North and the Stafford wheel

One (or more of us?) missed some sections of Go West and/or Go North, but I think four of us have walked from Hadrian’s Wall to the South Devon Coast – with a side trip to Barmouth. I do not know how anyone else feels, but I am proud of that achievement, even if it took 20 years.

Francis has also walked from Stafford to the east coast, and in early June Brian will spend a couple of days more on the Coastal Path to link his former home in Stafford to his new home in Torquay. He now lives on the top of a hill, so there will be a sting in the tail.