Wednesday 28 March 2012 – Lancashire Trail – Part 6 – Mellor to Whalley (Episode 1)

On a lovely sunny March morning some 16 Plodders and Maude congregated at Springwood Picnic Area in Whalley, before transferring to Mellor and setting off from the point at which we arrived in the rain on 22 February.

We soon reached an orientation point at 223 metres on Mellor Moor, the site of an Underground Nuclear Monitoring Post, now sealed.

Pendle Hill lurked almost unseen on the horizon, through the March heat haze, as we passed by Midge Hall and the course of an obscure Roman Road, before reaching the site of Norman’s latest addition to his property empire, foolishly purchased on the basis of an agent's particulars.

Norman toasted his success and proudly offered the property as a base for club weekends.

A capped reservoir was passed, so well fortified and equipped with security cameras, that we decided it must be a fuel store rather than a ‘water store’.

A very pleasant descent led to the village of Wilpshire, from where a hot rise to the golf course had everyone gasping, and annoyed some golfers who had to wait for all sixteen of us to cross through their line of fire.  Grumpy old men, they should have appreciated the break, on such a hot day.

It was time for lunch, taken from a hollow in the grass (Roger), or a comfy bench (Reg), and much in between.

From there, good turf led towards Snodworth, and the approach to Dean Clough Reservoir.

Reg skilfully guided everyone past the reservoir and through a dense forest of gorse, before lingering at the rear with Norman as a sort of test to see what would happen next.

It's best to stay behind Reg and Norman - they usually know the route.

Luckily for the rest of the group, as soon as a decision had to be made, Roger collapsed like a Granny’s jelly, preventing the need for any guesswork before our esteemed leader arrived on the scene.  Reg (‘The Butcher’) started to salivate at the sight of Roger’s collapse, but the victim suddenly revived at the sight of the scalpel.

The foothills of Pendle Hill loomed ahead – perhaps that had caused some to falter, but after reassurance that we would not be going much further today, everyone ambled gently down to the pleasant village of Whalley, and the River Calder.

There’s a fine viaduct here, but we by-passed the village by taking a ginnel to a riverside path.

Norman performed some of his usual antics in the weir, as illustrated in Episode 2 of this report (which being more timely may be more accurate than this poorly recalled Episode 1).

Leaving the riverside, Reg’s well recce’d route passed a display of classic cars.

Having made it back to Springwood picnic area, just beyond Whalley, we then returned to Mellor to pick up transport and enjoy a beer and a planning session.

Thanks as always go to Reg for organising the 'Plod', and to Norman for his excellent 'clown' impersonations.

Here’s today’s route, approximately 14 km with 340 metres ascent, taking us just about 4 hours.

Reg’s (more accurate as always) report is on this page, and I’ve uploaded a few more images here.

Back to Lancashire Trail Index

Easter Monday Antics

“Where can we go to show my parents some local culture?” asked Sue’s Italian teacher.

“I don’t know”, replied Sue, “I shall have to seek advice from my ‘Culture Secretary’”.

And so it was that I found myself ambling along the Bridgewater Canal on a wet Easter Monday in search of ‘culture’, as recommended by Sue’s unlikely choice of personnel, her ‘Culture Secretary’.

Passing through Broadheath, I noticed with sadness that ‘Malbo Joe’ hadn’t quite made it to the party in Timperley.

“Is the party in Timperley still raving on?” asked the lady with the dog on a boat.  “No, you need to turn around” I replied “a ‘Culture Secretary’ says it has moved to ‘The Swan’.”

By and by I reached the Swan, just late enough for Sue (who chose a more sensible mode of transport) to have done the honours at the bar, in the company of a jolly band of Thelwall Morris Dancers.  Sadly, neither Sue’s Italian teacher and her family nor Sue’s ‘Culture Secretary’ had been able to make it, so the audience for the Morris Men was, shall we say, ‘limited’.

“We blame you for making us do this” spluttered the drenched dancers after Sue had told them she had come specially to see them.  Despite encouragement from the jolly chap at the top of this posting, the diners in the pub couldn’t be persuaded away from their beef dripping and chips.

JJ had put on an ingenious face mask and stilts today, but there was no doubting that this was he, scouting for Italian tourists whilst modeling his new TGO Challenge hat.

The dancing continued.  The dancers got soggier.

There were glum looks from below the masks as beer glasses were slowly diluted by the persistent rain.

Sue took a video that will no doubt zoom up YouTube’s chart lists.  Or not.

After the third dance the men cleverly diverted their efforts to the bar, where in the absence of JJ her ‘Culture Secretary’ Sue thanked them for their efforts.

It was still raining, the Swan’s picnic tables were deserted. 

Whilst Sue zoomed off on ‘Essential Business’ I tottered back down the slithery towpath, where at least the Forget-me-nots were enjoying the rain.

There was hardly anyone else about on this normally very popular stretch of towpath, just three very muddy ‘mountain’ (sic) bikers and a puzzled looking drenched family that looked as if it has been deposited by an alien spaceship.

I’ve not yet seen any swallows or martins, and it’ll be weeks before the swifts return to share our home for a while, but the mallards have been busy…

“Hello” quacked mum “I’ve heard there’s a party at Malbo Joe’s – is it far away?”

“Not far at all” I whistled, casting my eye a few metres down the canal in the direction of Broadheath.

Nice weather for ducks!

Friday 6 April 2012 – Cliveden, and a long journey home

It takes us less than a day to return home from Ottawa.  Why then should it take two and a half days to return from Kent?

After some last photos of Water’s Edge and a long chat with Gemma and Ed about the ups and downs of renting out a cottage in your own garden, we reluctantly departed the lovely cottage that had been our home for the past week.

Several hours on the M25 later, and our butties were finally unwrapped in the delightful gardens at Cliveden, another National Trust property.  We’ve certainly got full value from our National Trust membership this week!

Whilst the gardens are fully open to the Public, the house at Cliveden is a posh hotel, a place of history, mystery, intrigue and scandal for over 350 years.

The current house dates from 1851, previous incarnations having been destroyed by fire, and the most notorious scandal involving the house was the Profumo Affair, which my contemporaries will no doubt remember – here’s an extract from the Wikipedia entry about that:

In the early 1960s, Profumo was the Secretary of State for War in Harold Macmillan's Conservative government and was married to actress Valerie Hobson. In 1961, Profumo met Christine Keeler, a London call girl, at a house party at Cliveden, the Buckinghamshire mansion owned by Lord Astor. Many years later Profumo would claim, in discussion with his son, David, that he had met Keeler previously at a night club in London called Murray's and "probably had a drink with her." Also present at the Cliveden party were Profumo's wife and the fashionable osteopath, Dr Stephen Ward, a long-standing acquaintance of Keeler. The relationship with Keeler lasted only a few weeks before Profumo ended it. However, rumours about the affair became public in 1962, as did the allegation that Keeler had also had a relationship with Yevgeny "Eugene" Ivanov, a senior naval attaché at the Soviet embassy in London. Given Profumo's position in the government and with the Cold War at its height, the potential ramifications in terms of national security were grave, and this, along with the adulterous nature of Profumo's relationship with Keeler, quickly elevated the affair into a public scandal.

Our journey continued uneventfully over the next two days, via Solihull where I took part in the Saturday morning Parkrun, (‘parkjog’ in my case) the first time I’d tried jogging for over a month, due to a pulled calf muscle – luckily it stood up to the test.  The runners here are much quicker than those I usually jog along with at Wythenshawe, with a turnout of 160 people, many of them club runners, whereas Wythenshawe – a newer event – usually gets fewer than 100 participants.

Finally, a visit to Dot, on her 87th birthday, concluded our holiday.  It was good to see her continuing to recover, albeit slowly, from her hip replacement that got infected.  Hopefully the antibiotics she needs to take for the next 2-3 months will get rid of the infection and obviate the need to go through the whole process again…

Here we are with her last Christmas Eve.

Thursday 5 April 2012 – Canterbury, and a North Downs Way Bimble

Sue had never been to Canterbury.  Today’s overcast skies allowed her to remedy that omission.  She enjoyed the cathedral, and the walk through gardens by the River Stour was very pleasant, but much of the town resembled any other medium sized conurbation in the UK.

We adjourned to the nearby village of Wye, with its view towards the Millennium Crown on a nearby hillside, before parking at the top of the hill on the route taken by the Long Distance Path known as the North Downs Way, which in this area also bears the name of ‘European Route E2’.

I wonder whether we’ll find similar signs on the E5 route we plan to take in a few weeks time.  We certainly won’t be taking a laptop computer with us on that trip!

A brighter day would have shown the North Downs in a better light, but despite the chilly gloom, and a scarily vacant picnic table from the Marie Celeste, we enjoyed the empty countryside on this pleasant amble.

Those invisible skinny-legged picnickers need very long arms to reach the condiments, but from what were they hiding?

Here’s our route – 10 km, with 300 metres ascent, taking 2-3 hours – one of a plethora of walks you could devise in this well footpathed part of the world.

Sadly, that’s it for now as we imminently embark on a long journey northwards, so after any interlude that we may or may not report on, it’ll be back to the delights of the Lancashire Trail and the Bridgewater Canal next week…

Thanks go to Gemma and Ed, the owners of Waters Edge, for providing such a delightful abode, via English Country Cottages, for our week in Kent.

Wednesday 4 April 2012 - Scotney Castle and some Kentish Bimbles

Much to our surprise we were greeted by yet another sunny day, so wet weather plans were deferred in favour of a trip to nearby Scotney Castle, which may not yield childhood memories for many of my readers as it was only relatively recently opened to the public.

We arrived early, making time for a 7-8 km walk around the circumference of the estate, using the marked ‘Parkland’, ‘Woodland’ and ‘Hop’ paths.  Here’s Sue, dashing on ahead in the woodland…

… and here’s where they grow the hops for the local Westerham Brewery’s beer.

By the time we got back the tea room was open for us to refuel before embarking on a tour of the house, built in 1837 for Edward Hussey III, whose last descendant lived there until 2006.  It has a rich history, being renowned in its heyday for lavish entertainment. 

In later years the upper floor was divided into flats, one of which was surreptitiously occupied by Margaret Thatcher when she was leader of the opposition, as her safety in her nearby matrimonial home couldn’t be guaranteed by the people who look after that sort of thing.

At the bottom of the garden lies an abandoned medieval moated castle, stones from which were used in the construction of the house, the castle being left in a deliberately ruined state, as the focus of the celebrated gardens.

After lunch we scrapped plans to visit Bewl Water and a nearby Pinearetum due to exorbitant parking charges, and headed back to Waters Edge, from where we could enjoy an equally scenic 9 km circular walk.

This led us along pleasant byways with expansive views over the Kentish countryside….

… and on to the village of Rolvenden, past fields full of bleating lambs, and this splendid windmill.

St Mary the Virgin, Rolvenden, was passed as we ambled along the High Weald Landscape Trail…

… past the impressive house and grounds of Great Maytham, where another green woodpecker was seen foraging in the grass.  Then it was back to Forsham down the ever quiet Wassall Lane.

Here’s our route, a much abbreviated version of Saturday’s walk – 9km, 130 metres of ascent, taking about 2 hours.

All in all another splendid day, aided again by the BBC’s seemingly unending ability to get the weather forecast wrong, though we aren’t of course complaining about it being sunny all day, again!

Tuesday 3 April 2012 – Sissinghurst Castle, Tenterden and Smallhythe Place

An unexpectedly sunny morning saw us heading off to Sissinghurst.  Like Rye and Bodiam it’s only 15 minutes from Waters Edge, so travelling this week has hardly been arduous.

Sissinghurst isn’t really a castle.  It started life as a Saxon pig farm, but it prospered and a manor house was built.  Only part of a moat from the original structure survives today.  By the late 16th century wealthy owners had built the existing tower and a magnificent Renaissance courtyard house with 38 fireplaces and a vaulted gallery 40 yards long.

Deterioration took place when the building was leased to the government during the Seven Years War (1756-63).  It was used as a prison camp for over 1000 captured French sailors.  They called it Chateau de Sissingherst or Sissinghurst Castle.

After the French sailors had wrecked the courtyard house, much of the building was demolished, but from the 1800’s a series of owners carried out repairs on many of the remaining structures, and used the fertile land to great advantage in the production of a wide variety of crops.

However, the photos from the time when Vita Sackville-West and Harold Nicholson bought the place in 1932 show that its condition was very far from the pristine sight that greets the viewer from the top of the tower in these days of comparative affluence.

Harold and Vita got to grips with the building and the garden, and left a fine legacy to the National Trust, with their grandson still involved with the estate.

The gardens will be brilliant in the summer, but even now certain sections are in fine fettle, keeping a team of nine gardeners fully occupied.

After our usual picnic lunch we hopped back into the car for a few minutes before parking up at the small town of Tenterden.  Although the town dates from early times, the oldest building these days is thought to be a 15/16th century gatehouse cottage on the main street.  There’s lots of interest in the town, but time permits only a snippet just now… (slide show later, perhaps).

This ‘snippet’ is the old Miller’s/Chandler’s Warehouse, a three storey 18th century building.  Looking up to the roof you can see the doors and a pulley, clues to its former use.  It is edged with white wood quoins and clad with ‘mathematical tiles’, so called because, made geometrically and laid flush, they present the appearance of sophisticated brickwork.  Many buildings from around 1770 to 1800+ used this technique of laying tiles on old timber frames to produce a new brick like appearance.  The illusion was impossible to disguise at the corners, hence the use of the vertical timber quoins to finish the edges and assist in weatherproofing.

A couple of miles down the road, Smallhythe Place, another National Trust property, houses many interesting artefacts and possessions of a leading actress in her day, Ellen Terry.  One of her notebooks shows that she cleared over £300 profit in one week for a performance around 1900.  She was one of the wealthiest women of her times, and clearly very influential in the world of theatre.  The rickety-floored timber framed house in which she lived in later life seems to be held together by a series of metal bars.  Like many such places, it has probably seen a huge number of changes in its long life.  In the garden, a theatre in a thatched barn occasionally draws today’s leading actors to perform short programmes in honour of the great lady and of old traditions.

It was only a ten minute drive back home from this interesting spot where there were some very helpful and informative National Trust guides.

But Ellen Terry’s death mask was a bit disconcerting.  Would you like to think your descendants will remember you for ever as they view your death mask displayed in a cabinet in their front room!?

Monday 2 April 2012 – Rye and Winchelsea

Another cloudless day, perhaps the last for some time, saw us heading back into East Sussex and down to Rye, one of the Cinque Ports, for a browse and a bimble.

Rye has pretty streets and a fine hilltop church, St Mary’s, which dates from… well, there’s a list of its Vicars, Rectors and Patrons since 1036.  The clock dates from 1561 and is one of the oldest working church tower clocks in the country.

(I’m saving today’s ‘church’ photos for a later slideshow.)

We freed ourselves from the fleshpots of Rye, notably Fletcher’s House Tea Room, for today’s 17 km bimble, which headed first into Rye Harbour Nature Reserve. 

The first target was Camber Castle, built in the reign of Henry VIII to protect Rye from the growing threat of French and Spanish invasion.  This was one of a chain of south coast defences protecting vulnerable areas.  However, shingle soon built up in front of the castle, and after a while its cannon fire would no longer have been able to reach the sea.  So it was abandoned in 1637 and now lies a mile inland.

A short walk from the castle is a bird hide that we had all to ourselves today, a day of deserted but well marked paths (as is the norm down here) in bright sunshine.  Our brief stop at the hide quickly revealed the following birds:

Mute swan, Coot, Mallard, Black-headed gulls, Tufted duck, Lapwing, Shelduck, Teal, Cormorant, Shoveler, Oyster catchers, Greylag geese, Gadwall, Moorhen, Canada geese, Wood pigeon, Chaffinch, Marsh harrier, Blue tit, and Reed buntings.

Adjourning to a sunny bench for lunch, we added the following to that list:

Carrion crows, Rooks, Blackbird, Robin, Magpie, Kestrel, various sparrows, Blackcap, Heron and Linnet. 

And given that we just have a very crappy little pair of binoculars, limited knowledge of bird species and negligible knowledge of their calls, we probably missed many more.

Continuing onwards,  we found that Winchelsea proudly announces itself to the world.

It’s a quaint little place, with another big church.  At one end of the village the Strand Gate has failed to halt a recent spread of buildings, but in the countryside to the south of the village the ‘New Gate’ was never reached, due to a decline in population following the ‘Black Death’ epidemic.  Perhaps the houses will get there during the 21st Century.

After passing through both gates and the intervening village we found ourselves beside the Royal Military Canal.  This was built from 1804 to 1809, when Napoleon was threatening to invade.  The excavated soil from the 28 mile canal was piled up on the landward side to protect troops from enemy fire.  Every 500 metres along the length of the canal a kink (‘enfilade’) was inserted to enable cannons to be fired down each stretch.  In practice, the canal was never called upon for defence purposes, but it did help to control the smuggling that was rife on Romney Marsh at that time, albeit subject to the corruption of the authorities that is now practiced in the UK in more subtle ways, but is still commonplace in its more blatant guises across many parts of the world.

The flask was de-dregged at a pleasant spot beside the canal, before a pleasant wander back into Rye and our expensive incorruptible car park.

Here’s today’s route – about 17km with not much more than 100 metres ascent.  Given the distractions, it took us all day.