Monday, 22 May 2017

Ripon and Fountains Abbey

Renewing the Bonds of Friendship from an American Exchange 34 Year Ago

Some Background

In 1983 I had been teaching for 11 years, our daughter Siân was two, Lynne was a full time mother and we felt up for an adventure. So, with an unjustified confidence in my abilities, I applied for a year's teacher exchange and was duly paired with Joel Wingard, a high school teacher from Gig Harbor, Washington, a small, pretty town nestled beside the Puget Sound, 45 minutes’ drive from Seattle.

Before taking over each other’s lives - jobs, houses, cars and even in-laws (Siân acquired a much-loved third granny) – the British and American exchangers gathered for a few days orientation at San Francisco State University. And there we met Joel and Lucinda Wingard and their three children, all eight of us about to embark on what had been a dream and was now becoming a pretty scary reality…

San Francisco State University, August 1983, l to r Gabe, Lynne, Siân, Me, Dija, Joel, Lucinda, Tyler

…and here are the adults thirty four years later. The children, now with jobs, families and lives of their own are far too busy to take time off in mid-May.

Kettlewell, North Yorkshire, May 2017
Siân is now older than I was in the top picture

We had met Joel and Lucinda at Manchester Airport two weeks earlier and once their heads and bodies had settled in the same time zone they set off north to walk a lot and drive a little of the Coast-to-Coast route with the Sierra Club.

21/05/2017 (or 05/21/2017 for J & L)

A Whizz Round York

Their walk heroically completed, though with Lucinda now hobbling with the same tendon damage that had ruined my SW Odyssey last month, we met again in York.

The National Railway Museum

After a look at the train museum,…

Stephenson's Rocket (replica), National Railway Museum, York

Bettys and a Fat Rascal

…. a visit to Betty’s for the obligatory fat rascal…

Lucinda and a fat rascal, Bettys tea Room, York

York Minster

…and a walk round the Minster,…

Inside York Minster

...we set off for Ripon.

Arriving in Ripon

City of Ripon

20 miles from York, Ripon (pop 17,000) is England's third smallest city. Founded, according to tradition, by St Wilfred in the 7th century it was first an important ecclesiastical centre and then prominent in the medieval wool trade. The city was noted for manufacturing spurs in the 16th and 17th century, but lost its importance when it was by-passed by the industrial revolution.

Passing the racecourse we discovered it was race day and our B&B, a pub just south of Ripon’s little River Skell, was catering for those preferring to watch the horses on television. We were warmly welcomed by the landlady, but the bar was loud and we wondered how long the noise might continue.

Tapas in Ripon

Joel and Lucinda had spoken of their difficulties in finding places to eat in 1983, particularly with three children in tow. It is much easier now, but not necessarily on a Sunday evening - my internet search had shown only two local restaurants whose day did not finish with Sunday lunch.

A quick exploration suggested there was more choice than expected. I do not know how many tapas bars there were in Britain in 1983, but I doubt there were any in places like Ripon. Manchega is there now and although quiet on a Sunday evening (so that is why so many places close) it served us well. We enjoyed nine tapas plus desserts and every one - old favourites like patatas bravas and pescaditos or new discoveries like Morcilla de Burgos (Castilian black pudding) and padron peppers - showed authentic Spanish flavours. One criticism, the wine list was dominated by South America with hardly a Spanish wine in sight; that said I enjoyed our Chilean sauvignon.

Outside Manchega, Ripon (photo: Lucinda)

The Ripon Wakeman

Well fed, we made our way to the market square, an expanse of cobbles and tarmac half given over to car parking. In the centre is an obelisk.

Obelisk, Ripon Market Square

At 9 o’clock precisely the Wakeman arrived to set the watch as he has done (allegedly) every single evening since 886. He blows his horn at each corner of the obelisk before announcing ‘The Watch is Set’.

The Wakeman sets the watch, Ripon Market Square

This done, the small multi-national crowd gathered round Wayne the Wakeman who explained something of the history.

Wayne the Wakeman explains, Ripon Market Square

According to the Ripon Hornblower website Alfred the Great visited Ripon in 886. Impressed by the city and its stand against the marauding Vikings he wished to give it a charter but lacking parchment he gave it a horn instead, advising them to appoint Wakemen to be ever vigilant against attack. Wayne did not claim the horn came from Alfred in person – he probably never ventured this far north – but he told us of the charter and how the original Charter Horn is still kept in the Town Hall.

In time the Wakeman (elected for a year) and the 12 self-appointed constables who elected him came to control the city, not always to the benefit of the ordinary citizens. It was time for a reboot, and in 1604 James I granted a new charter with a more democratically elected mayor tasked with employing a Wakeman. And so, more or less, it has continued. Today’s Wakemen (two of them job-share) may serve the town’s tourist industry rather than ensure its security, but they maintain a tradition which is, they claim, unbroken for over 1100 years.

Psalm 127, verse 1 says (in the Authorised Version)

Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it: except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh in vain.

To give their Wakeman some divine back-up the city chose as its motto a modified version of the second part of the verse and emblazoned it across the Town Hall at the end of the Market Place. St Wilfred, the city’s founder can be seen keeping vigil from a niche (some locals call it his bath) on the wall of the NatWest Bank, the regrettable 1960s building to the left of the Georgian Town Hall.

Ripon Town Hall with St Wilfrid half way up wall of the bank next door

Ambling back to our B&B we found the pub, like everywhere else, had closed early and a restful night was had by all.

22/05/2017

Ripon Cathedral

Ripon’s former importance has left it with a huge Gothic cathedral and to visit we again had to cross the River Skell. The bridge has a 7.5t weight restriction, and a warning sign telling you so. Lucinda found the sign amusing, if not downright funny and insisted on photographing it. I do not understand the joke, but here it is anyway.

Hilarious sign (Photo: Lucinda)
note to self: try not to turn sideways when you know there are people with cameras nearby

Perhaps American readers are now breaking out in loud guffaws while Brits are saying ‘yes…and…?’ with furrowed brows. Or maybe not. ‘O wad some Power the giftie gie us, To see oursels as ithers see us!’ to quote the wise, if occasionally incomprehensible Robert Burns.

The huge Early English west front was added in 1220 to what was the fourth stone church on this site. The first, constructed by St Wilfrid in 672 was one of the earliest stone buildings in the Kingdom of Northumbria while the fourth, started in 1160 by Roger de Pont L’Évêque, Archbishop of York, incorporating parts of earlier churches and took 400 years to complete. The cathedral is now one of the three co-equal cathedrals of the Diocese of Leeds (none of them actually in upstart Leeds).

The west Front of Ripon Cathedral

Though not as elegant as York Minster, it is an impressive cavern surrounded by soaring stonework.

The interior, Ripon Cathedral

I have read that the cathedral has a fine organ, but it was being tuned during our visit and hearing its complete range at full volume was sometimes excruciating.

Organ, Ripon Cathedral

St Wilfred's Chapel, Lewis Carroll and a Rabbit Hole

Beneath the quire, is a stone corridor...

Towards St Wilfred's Chapel, Ripon Cathedral

…leading to a small chapel – all that remains of St Wilfred’s original church.

St Wilfred's Chapel, Ripon Cathedral

The quire has some fine carving….

Choir, Ripon Cathedral

…the 35 misericords were carved between 1489 and 1494 by the Ripon School of carvers who were active - and not just in Ripon - as stability returned after the Wars of the Roses. A member of the cathedral staff kindly pointed us towards one depicting a gryphon hunting rabbits. The rabbit’s backside disappearing down the hole, top right, and the corridor to St Wilfred’s chapel were, she suggested, the inspiration for the opening of Alice in Wonderland. Charles Dodgson was appointed a Canon of Ripon Cathedral in 1854 when his son, also Charles but better known as Lewis Carroll, was 20, so it is possible, though our informant fair-mindedly admitted that there are other claimants.

Gryphon hunting rabbits, misericord, Ripon Cathedral

She also told us that later that morning Ripon would be standing in for Westminster Abbey for the filming of the new series of Victoria and that was why the modern candle holders were being removed.

Removing the modern candlesticks for the filming Victoria, Ripon Cathedral

Before leaving the cathedral we visited the exhibition in the transept. There was church plate, some interesting jewels and a small library, but my eye was caught by a series of models of the cathedral. From 672 to the 16th century each successive version showed enlargements and improvements. The last showed the cathedral with pepper pot spires, like those at Southwell, topping the towers. The only alteration since has been to remove those spires. The building has been lovingly maintained but not enlarged or expanded in any way - I am uncertain what conclusion to draw from this observation.

Fountain's Abbey

We made the short drive to Fountains Abbey where we were redirected from the main to the west entrance to avoid a steep descent – particularly irksome to those with heel tendon problems.

Fountain's Hall

By the gate, as a sort of hors d’oeuvre, is Fountain’s Hall.

Fountains Hall, near Ripon

Built as a country home in 1597, the sandstone (including a complete staircase) was quarried from the abbey. Now also owned by the National Trust, the ground floor is open while parts can be rented as holiday accommodation.

Inside Fountains Hall

In 1132 Thurston, Archbishop of York, granted land to 13 monks who had left the Benedictine abbey of St Mary’s in York after a dispute. The site for their new abbey was a sheltered valley beside the River Skell where water, wood and building stone where readily available.

The buildings were initially wooden and it was not until after the monks had joined the Cistercian order that the first stone church was built in 1143. In 1146 a dispute over who should be the next Archbishop of York led to the abbey being torched by a mob. The next 25 years saw a great reconstruction and some of the stonework we could see as we walked across the sward dates from this period, though the quire is 13th century and the Huby Tower was built when Marmaduke Huby was abbot, not long before the dissolution in 1539.

Fountains Abbey

We detoured right to walk along the wildflower bedecked bank of the Skell; though it becomes less attractive when you realise that the river’s main function was to carry away the monks’ waste!

The River Skell above Fountains Abbey

We walked through the hospitium where hospitality was offered to travellers….

The hospitium, Fountains Abbey

…and the cellerium, or store rooms, with their fine medieval vaulting.

Cellerium, Fountains Abbey

A walk through the cloister…

The cloister, Fountains Abbey

…took us into the main church….

The nave, Fountains Abbey

….with the Huby Tower in its unusual position to the side of the nave.

The Huby Tower, Fountains Abbey

Leaving the abbey we followed the River Skell towards Studley Royal Water Gardens, which together with the Abbey make up a UNESCO World Heritage Site. In 1984 the Wingard family had pitched their tent (actually, come to think of it, our tent) in a nearby camp site and gone for a walk. They knew nothing of Fountains Abbey, but following the water meadows of the Skell they had rounded a bend and been confronted with this totally unexpected sight. Our 2017 trip could not hope to recapture the excitement of that discovery, nor could we recreate the reading of a Shakespeare play (and I have forgotten which one) which they attended that evening in the abbey grounds, but I hope it stirred some pleasant memories.

Fountains Abbey from the West

Studley Royal Water Garden

Continuing to Studley Royal Water Garden we found a garden where form and reflection outrank plants and flowers.

Studley Royal Water Gardens

At the café we paused for a National Trust snack lunch. With two aching tendons between us it seemed wise to whistle up the site minibus which took us across the deer park and back to the west entrance.

In an ideal world we would have stopped at St Mary’s Church. Consecrated in 1878 it was designed by William Burges, gothic revivalist and drinking buddy of the Pre-Raphaelites. Lynne discovered his over-the-top fantasies in Castell Coch as a child and they have long been a source of delight and amusement.

St Mary's Church, Studley, Photograph by Alison Stamp (borrowed from Wikipedia)

In an ideal world we would have stopped at St Mary’s Church. Consecrated in 1878 it was designed by William Burges, gothic revivalist and drinking buddy of the Pre-Raphaelites. Lynne discovered his over-the-top fantasies in Castell Coch as a child and they have long been a source of delight and amusement.

We returned to Ripon before heading on to Masham, Wensleydale and Wharfedale.

I should not finish a post on Ripon without mentioning its trio of Museums, the Courthouse, the Prison and Police, and the Workhouse, collectively known as the Yorkshire Law and Order Museums. After listening to the Wakeman I am sure they are worth a visit, but you cannot see everything in one trip, so we didn’t.

Thursday, 27 April 2017

Bennett's Cross to Lustleigh: Day 30 of the South West Odyssey (English Branch)

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.

Updated with extra pictures and text 04 Nov 2018

A Tedious Little Prologue (skip if you have read Day 28 or 29)

The ‘five like-minded people’ would only be 4 again this year. I did my preparations and after four full-day practice walks with Mike and Francis and some solo strolls I was feeling fit and ready… except for a nagging little pain beneath my right heel.

Then, with less than a week to go, a further morning’s walk saw that nagging little pain exploded into something I could no longer ignore. It was no better next day and a trip to A&E resulted in a diagnosis of plantar fasciisitis, inflammation of and/or damage to the tendon where it joins the heel bone. And the cure? Rest, probably for several months.

Devon
But the accommodation was booked so Lynne and I went anyway. There were cars to shuffle which Lynne usually does on her own, food to be eaten and beer to be drunk for which my talents might be needed.

I found these three days frustrating, transferring people to starts, collecting them from finishes and in between hobbling around various tourist sites.

[Brian volunteered to accompany me filling in these missing legs in February and we walked Day 28, but the arrival of the ‘Beast from East’ forced a tactical withdrawal.

It was not until November that we returned to Drewsteignton, this time with Francis as well, to complete the job. I have added some extra photos and comments – in red, as before.]

Day 30, Bennett's Cross to Lustleigh
The morning started with scrapping ice from car windscreens before I followed Mike and Alison to Lustleigh where they left their cars at the end of walk. After breakfast I took the walkers back out to Bennett’s Cross. There was no snow today, instead there was a platoon of soldiers with packs and rifles preparing for a yomp across the moor. As the others pulled on their boots the soldiers appeared to be forming a firing squad so I courageously decided to leave. On mature reflection I realise I was in no danger, it was Alison they were after – several decades as a pacifist-activist must have made her enemies in the military!

Bennett's Cross on a bright but cold morning (Photo: Brian)

Francis now describes the walk He also took the pictures (except where noted).

We re-joined The Two Moors Way but only for a kilometre as we inadvertently veered off our planned route over Birch Tor.

[Our November Day did not start with frost, indeed it was tolerably warm, but the visibility was totaly different. We did not veer off over Birch Tor, though we could hardly see it from Bennett's Cross]

That's probably Birch Tor
We could see the unmistakeable outline of Grimspound on the hillside east of us so took a path to Headland Warren Farm then another across Hookney Tor to the pound.

[We could not see Hookney Tor, never mind Grimspound, and from the tor (once we had found it) the Warren House Inn had disappeared in the mist. It now started raining, and apart from occassional pauses for breath it rained for the rest of the day. At least it was relatively warm and there was only a gentle breeze so the rain fell vertically rather than being blown in our faces. It was more comfortable, than yesterday, but just as wet.]

Hookney Tor looking back to the Warren House Inn near Bennett's Cross (photo: Brian)
[Grimspound is just a drive and a short iron from the top of Hookney Tor. I was about half way down when I took the picture below.]


Grimspound from 200m away - it is there somewhere, and not very far away
[the photo below was taken from much further away - but under different conditions!]

Grimspound is a Bronze Age settlement (first settled 3,000BC) containing at least 24 huts. They were enclosed by a large double circle of granite stones but over time their walls have collapsed inwards to leave a single much lower circle.

Grimspound Bronze Age Settlement (Photo: Vince Hogg)
The best way to photograph Grimspound is form the air. As no one was carrying a drone in their pack I have taken Francis' advice and stolen this one from

[The best preserved hut in the centre of the circle is obvious in the picture above. We dropped in for coffee sitting on the walls during a brief cessation of the rain. It was nice to meet the Grims, but they should consider putting the roof back if they are hoping to open a coffee shop.]


The best preserved hut, Grimspound (and a little rain on the lens)
We continued on over the summit of the ridge and steadily down for our coffee stop on the grass near Natsworthy Manor then followed a track to Jay’s Grave. [Nobody knows who Jay was. The earliest report is from 1851 when the landowner's workmen discovered a skeleton. Enquiries suggested it was the remains of Ann Jay who had hung herself some 60 years previously. Many later reports add flesh to these bare bones, but I suspect the writers were more concerned with telling a good tale than getting to the truth. An unknown person regularly leaves fresh flowers on the grave and there was a goodly pile of loose change on the headstone.]


Jay's Grave - through a very watery lens
We joined a road here for just over a kilometre then headed uphill over Hound Tor Down passing Hound Tor on our left and Greator Rocks on our right.

Hound Tor
The path led down through woods to Becka Brook....


The Bridge over Becka Brook - it gives a fare impression of the day
....then up onto the side of Black Hill. We crossed a high minor road then steadily descended to the car park we want to use next year on a slightly lower road. [And that was where we stopped. We had started from here in April so all is properly linked up. It had been a far easier day than yesterday, mainly because it had been considerably shorter, but also because the conditions, though grim had been far better.]

From the lower road we descended steeply and then precipitously down through a deciduous wood to a track at its base - the shortest possible route to Lustleigh.

Here we had some brief refreshment after the ordeal of our descent then crossed a small packhorse bridge across the River Bovey....

Mike and Alison and the River Bovey
...before ascending and zigzagging on a track through Hisley Wood passing some excellent bluebells and reaching the minor road into Lustleigh.

Bluebells in Hisley Wood (Photo: Brian)
We planned to finish with a cream tea at the tea rooms but they were closed for renovation so instead we enjoyed drinks in The Cleave. Finally we walked to the cars, and so ended the tenth year of the Odyssey. For the four of us it had been a very enjoyable three days and we look forward to next year’s instalment.

The Cleave Inn, Lustleigh (Photo:Me - we joined the walkers at The Cleave)
But for the fifth it had been a frustrating time. Last year the walking had not been outstanding, much of it merely a matter of getting from A to B but this year had crossed fine walking country in almost perfect conditions – and I missed it. I hope I will get down to Devon later in the year and will then be able to look forward to the next instalment with everybody else.

Today's distance 17km
The total distance for the three days 61km

[I did not quite 'get down to Devon within the year', but I have done it now. Meanwhile all five of us have completed the 2018 walk and next April/May will bring this 12 year project to its completion.

Thanks to Brian and Francis for walking these repeat (for them) legs just to help me out - and in such unpleasant conditions. Thanks also to Brian and especially Hilary for the hospitality, it is very much appreciated.

Thanks also to Brian for lending me his camera. I took mine, but left the card in my lap-top in Staffordshire. I hope the camera recovers from its drenching.]




Wednesday, 26 April 2017

Drewsteignton to Bennett's Cross: Day 29 of the South West Odyssey (English Branch)

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.

Updated with extra pictures and text 03 Nov 2018

A Tedious Little Prologue (skip if you have read Day 28)

The ‘five like-minded people’ would only be 4 this year. I did my preparations and after four full-day practice walks with Mike and Francis and some solo strolls I was feeling fit and ready… except for a nagging little pain beneath my right heel.

Then, with less than a week to go, a further morning’s walk saw that nagging little pain explode into something I could no longer ignore. It was no better next day and a trip to A&E resulted in a diagnosis of plantar fasciisitis, inflammation of and/or damage to the tendon where it joins the heel bone. And the cure? Rest, probably for several months.

Devon
But the accommodation was booked so Lynne and I went anyway. There were cars to shuffle which Lynne usually does on her own, food to be eaten and beer to be drunk for which my talents might be needed.

I found these three days frustrating, transferring people to starts, collecting them from finishes and in between hobbling around various tourist sites. (End of prologue)

[I needed to fill in these missing legs and Brian kindly volunteered to provide accomodation in Torquay and accompany me on the walks in February 2018. We completed Day 28, but the arrival of the ‘Beast from East’ then forced a tactical withdrawal.

It was not until November that we returned to Drewsteignton, this time with Francis as well, to finish the job. I have added some extra photos and plenty of extra text (in red).]

Day 29, Drewsteignton to Bennett's Cross
As we were staying a second night in Moretonhampstead, car shuffling was simpler this morning. Before breakfast Alison and Mike took a car to the finish at Bennett’s Cross, 3 kilometres onto Dartmoor and 435m up – details I mention only because they found the moor under a carpet of snow, a rare event in April though the snow would not last for long.

Mike leaves his car at snowy Bennett's Cross (photo: Alison)

Later I drove the walkers to Drewsteignton. It is a lovely village which I wrote about yesterday, though I failed to mention its little square with church and pub – what could be more cosily traditional?

Drewsteignton Square
My picture, but it's a shame I could not come back for the afternoon sun. 
Text (in blue) is now by Francis who took all the photos (except as noted).

It was again cold but we set off in clear sunshine. [The 3rd of November started as a very warm and pleasant day, for November – it would be a day of two halves!] We immediately dropped steeply down off the road and then steeply up on a path so punishing it needed steps, but at the top we were provided with an excellent view back to Drewsteignton.

Drewsteignton
We then had a very pleasant walk along the top of the valley side along the edge of Piddledown Common (yes, really). [Walking across Devon has involved an endless succession of ridges to climb, only to drop down into the valley beyond to climb the next ridge to drop….etc, etc. It was a rare pleasure to reach a ridge and to walk along it (or just below it) and enjoy the views].We were in the Castle Drogo Estate and caught a brief glimpse of the castle though it was hidden behind scaffolding.

Along the top of the Teign valley below Castle Drogo (photo: Alison)
[Sorry to interrupt. Castle Drogo, designed by Edwin Lutyens for Julius Drewe, founder of Home and Colonial Stores, was built between 1911 and 1930. It is often called ‘the last castle built in England’, but as there is no agreed definition of ‘castle’ and Castle Drogo was never in anyway fortified I prefer the description ‘vanity project'. Economic uncertainty meant it is only half the size originally planned and the asphalt roof – a new and untried technology - leaked almost from the start. In 1974 the building was donated to the National Trust and in the current six year restoration programme the roof is being replaced and the windows reset which accounts for the scaffolding. Lynne and I visited Castel Drogo while the others were walking; the gardens are magnificent, but the ‘castle’ will be a lot more interesting when fully reopened next year.] [The National Trust’s 'project watertight' is ongoing, so the scaffolding is still there.]


Castle Drogo, still scaffolded and covered in Niovember 2018
Much pleasanter sights were Whiddon Wood…

Whiddon Wood - looking remarkably like broccoli
and a Pearl-bordered Fritillary.

Pearl bordered fritillary
The path passed Hunter’s Tor then descended to the River Teign which we followed for 6 kilometres [it is a lovely walk along the Teign, too, so I have inserted one of my pictures as a complement to Francis']...


The River Teign near Dogmarsh Bridge, 03 Nov 2018
passing Dogmarsh Bridge where we crossed the A382 and shortly afterwards saw a red kite, Rushford Mill where we paused for coffee, and Chagford.

Along the River Teign
On the narrow road after Chagford Bridge we were passed (with difficulty) by an amazing number of delivery vans all heading to Gidleigh Park Hotel and were pleased to leave the road and join a footpath heading up to Teigncombe. [We were not troubled by delivery vans, but spots of drizzle started to become noticeable as we rounded Chagford and headed up towards Teigncombe. It was far too misty for the view below].

Looking back to Chagford
Here we left The Two Moors Way.... [A little navigational inattention meant we missed this path and appeared on the moor 300m metres to the north.]

The last stretch before the open moor (Photo: Alison)
.... and headed further up onto Dartmoor intending to pass north of Kestor Rock, but the best path went to it and it seemed sensible to visit the rocks and sit out of the cold wind on its lee side to have our lunch. Mike and Brian had bought pasties in Moretonhampstead, Alison had Bombay Mix while I made do with cereal bars. As we sat in warm sunshine admiring the 360 degree views we visually plotted our afternoon route.

Lunch at Kestor Rock
[We headed up up Kestor Rock through tussocks and gorse as the drizzle thickened and the wind began to blow. After a very pleasant morning the day was taking a turn for the worse, but the rock provided shelter for our lunch, too.]


Kestor Rock, November
The moor was incredibly dry and the afternoon walk was pleasant and easy. We came eventually to the restored Grey Wethers Stone Circles and then headed south-east over White Ridge (just over 500m) and east over Assycombe Hill to an ancient settlement on the side of Water Hill.

[The day became incredibly wet and the afternoon walk was unpleasant and difficult. The remains of Hurricane Oscar had worked its way across the Atlantic and we walked south across open moorland straight into a strong south wind driving the stinging rain into our faces. We gained a little shelter rounding the north of Fernworthy Forest, but seemed to have been toiling round it for ages before we again turned south into the teeth of the wind and picked up the path to a clapper bridge...


Clapper Bridge, near Grey Wethers Stone Circles
...and a few metres beyond that the Grey Wethers stone circles.


One of the Grey Wethers Stone Circles
Grey Wethers is a pair of stone circles, both about 30m in diameter with their centres aligned North-South. On a good day (like the 26th of April in Francis' picture below) I would have greatly admired these Bronze Age circles; in the circumstances my first thought was 'What the expletive did these people think they were doing building this out here?', closely followed by 'What the expleteive did I think I was doing out here?']

Grey Wethers, a pair of re-erected  (1909) pre-historic stone circles
From here it was an easy amble through the heather to meet the B3212 ..

Across the moor from Grey Wethers
[November did not provide an easy amble through the heather. Given the weather conditions and the visibility we followed a wall back to Fernworthy Forest and turned south beside it descending sharply to cross the Vitifer Mine Leat, then climbing to the 500m White Ridge. From the top I was hoping to be able to see the end of the walk, but instead the stumps of the forest stretched ahead until they dwindled into the mist. Words from Scott of the Antarctic's diary seemed to describe it well. 'Dear God, this is a dreadful place....' he wrote, though I cheered myself up with the thought that unlike Scott I still expected to get out of this dreadful place alive.

Darkness falls early in November, so to get off the moor in the light we followed a wall to the B3212 and walked along it to the car. It was a longer, but safer.]

...and follow it a short way to The Warren House Inn. Brian and I enjoyed pints of beer while Alison had a soft drink and Mike a pot of tea but quite why we opted to sit outside in the cold I do not know.

Sitting outside thee Warren House Inn (Photo: Alison)
I had planned a walk down to the old mines below the Inn then back up to the road at Bennett’s Cross but in the end there was a unanimous decision to simply follow the road to the car park.

Bennett's Cross
And who, you ask, was Bennett and why was he cross? The simple answer is nobody knows, there are theories but no definitive answer. Its age is unknown, too. It was mentioned in a tithe dispute in 1702 but its rough-hewn nature suggests it might be much older. It marks the boundary between the parishes of Chagford and North Bovey and once bore the letters WB for ‘Warren Bounds’ as it denoted the limit of Headland Rabbit Warren - so you knew if you were poaching someone else’s lunch.

Later, back in Moretonhampstead, we had pre-dinner drinks in The Horse. Francis described the Drewe Arms as ‘delightfully unimproved’ and at first glance the same could be said of The Horse, but I suspect it is more archly retro.

We ate a few doors down at Berto’s, a tiny Italian restaurant. We had booked yesterday on a recommendation from our B&B – and booking is necessary when six people want to eat at a restaurant with only four tables. Berto’s has no drinks licence but we non-walkers had been tasked with purchasing appropriate wine. The menu is limited but the quality is high and the flavours genuine. It has the vibe of a small family run Italian restaurant, which is what it is, if not quite in the expected place.

Walking to the car we passed a youth group coming off the moor with their leaders. We later passed the minibus going to pick them up. They were destined for a hostel, or worse, a night camping. We were heading for the warmth and comfort of Brian and Hilary's home, a hot shower, dry clothes and a good meal. The misfortune of others can be strangely cheering.

Today's distance 23km


The South West Odyssey (English Branch)