Naunton and Bourton-on-the-Water

Tuesday 11th September 2001 

Following on from the previous day I was walking in the Cotswolds on quite an enjoyable walk, which was ruined by what I heard on the radio at lunchtime. I was following a walk described on the walkingbritain.co.uk website which starts from the picturesque, tourist-filled village of Bourton-on-the-Water, but when I saw the price of car parking I instead went to the tiny village of Naunton where I was easily able to park for free by the side of the road. Just like the day before I had taken the original route and adapted it for my own means making it rather different to how it was supposed to go. Not only was I now starting from half way round the route but I also headed off in the opposite direction (going anti-clockwise instead of clockwise) and towards somewhere that wasn’t even on the original route. Instead of dropping south into the Windrush Valley I headed North-West to the Guiting Power Nature Reserve, which is a thin strip of wetland where a small tributary of the Windrush threads through unspoilt scenery. Using a guidebook is an excellent starting point for walks, but you should never feel bound by their route. If there is something nearby that perks your interest, then feel free to abandon your route to investigate, as I did ten years ago. 

At the end of this 17 acre reserve I joined the Windrush Way as it climbs through Grazeley Wood to reach the A436 at Westfield House. I remember at this point not being sure of my route. I think I might have taken a wrong turning (and not actually have passed Westfield House) and so I was not where I thought I was. In fact I was so sure that I was right and the signpost was wrong that I tried to move the signpost back to the direction I thought it should have been pointing! I suppose I thought that someone else had tampered with the sign because it didn’t agree with where I thought I was. The lesson I learnt from this was that I should match what I see on a map with what is on the ground and not try to force what is on the ground to match what is on the map. I followed the Windrush Way across fields littered with Foot & Mouth notices (but none actually baring access) and passed through the medieval village of Aylworth before joining the originally described route coming out from Naunton beside the River Windrush. After a pleasant, at times muddy walk along the valley I eventually reached the tourist-packed village of Bourton-on-the-Water. This photo of Bourton-on-the-Water is courtesy of TripAdvisor 

With the time approaching two o’clock I settled down on the grass beside the river that runs right through the middle of the village and had my lunch. As I switched on the radio the news was on, which ended with: “And to repeat the opening news item…” You know something significant has happened when the news feels the need to repeat themselves and on this occasion it was indeed important. As I sat on the lawn in brilliant sunshine surrounded by dozens of blissfully unaware tourists I heard that an aeroplane had crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Centre. You always remember where you were when you heard something ground-shattering like that. JFK being shot I’m sure must have had a similar reaction and more recently I remember that I was in my bedroom getting ready for Church when I heard about Diana, Princess of Wales. But I find it surreal when I remember the sunny, happy circumstances that I was in when I heard about the Twin Towers. 

After the second plane crashed it was obvious that this was terrorist action and left me in a daze for the rest of the walk. I went out of Bourton-on-the-Water and followed the Warden’s Way up a hill to a road and then down into the tiny village of Lower Slaughter. I’ll never forget standing on that road being asked by an American tourist for directions to the Slaughters, while in my ears was the three o’clock news talking about the events that had just occurred in New York. It was all too surreal and I just mumbled that it was down the hill trying not to think what this tourists reaction would be when he heard the news. Numbly I walked through the picturesque little villages of Lower and Upper Slaughter as I slowly made my way back to my car in Naunton. My mind was no longer on the walk, but on the awful things that I was hearing on the radio. The Warden’s Way provided me with a sure guide alongside the River Eye before climbing over Brock Hill and down onto Naunton. 

The following day I didn’t feel like doing much walking, so I dragged myself around a short walk starting from the village of Chedworth incorporating the nearby Roman Villa. The walk ended before lunchtime in rain so with no motivation to do anymore walking I decided it was time to go home.

Chipping Campden and Broadway

Monday 10th September 2001 

After my holiday in Devon and Cornwall during the summer of 2001, the next walking holiday that I took was in the middle of September. I remember that I had originally booked my holiday for a week or two earlier but due to a clash of holidays at work I was asked if I’d be move my holiday. Since I hadn’t booked any accommodation I agreed, which meant that I was on holiday the week commencing 10th September 2001. Events later in the week put me off doing much walking so this proved to be a rather short holiday. With Foot and Mouth still prevalent in my usual haunt of the Brecon Beacons I decided to go somewhere new, and somewhere that was not far away from where I live. I had travelled north, such as to the Peak District, many times in the past, but I had never gone south, for example, to the Cotswolds, which is a range of rolling hills, farmer's fields and picturesque villages. It may be a popular place with tourists but frankly I found the scenery a little dull.

 

It has been very hard to reconstruct this walk from my memory and from the small number of files on my computer that I’ve found archived away. None of the walks described seem to match my memory of the walk or the description of it in my diary. I remember that it was a walk in the northern part of the Cotswolds along the edge of the Cotswold Escarpment. My diary simply says “Monday I went to Chipping Campden and Broadway. I walked from Broadway Tower round Snowshill and Stanton. Nothing great.” From this I assume I started from Chipping Campden, and I do recall parking beside an old brick wall (all the villages in this area have very old houses). My best guess is that I was following a guide book that I’d found at the library, but the contents of the website walkingbritain.co.uk seems rather promising, though not perfect. Walk 1308 seems to be close to my memory of the walk but it doesn’t go through the villages of Snowshill and Stanton mentioned in my diary. It is entirely possible that I made up this walk from the map based on many sources and is now impossible to reconstruct. 

On the assumption that I started in Chipping Campden, my first destination would have been Dover’s Hill, which is owned by the National Trust. This hill lies on the edge of the Cotswold Escarpment and must have far-reaching views to the west. Joining the Cotswold Way I walked along the Mile Drive all the way to Broadway Tower and the top of Broadway Hill, which is one of the highest points in Cotswolds at a dizzying 313 metres. If I did indeed go through the villages of Snowshill and Stanton then I must have found a way through or around Broadway Tower Country Park to the village of Snowshill (where I believe I had lunch). The sight of Stanway House on the map sparked something in my head so it’s possible I continued south-west from Snowshill as far as the village of Stanway and then ploughed on north through Stanton, unless I just took a direct route over Shenberrow Hill to Stanton. As you can tell this walk didn’t leave much of an impression on me, but I do remember my reaction to the village of Broadway which I eventually reached mid-afternoon: I couldn’t get out of the tourist-laden trap fast enough. 

The broad high street was striking enough but was not really the sort of thing that interests me. These pretty villages in the Cotswolds are nice enough if you like that sort of thing but it wasn’t really my sort of thing, and after half a dozen of villages all with the same coloured stone buildings it starts to get a bit dull. From Broadway I still needed to get back to Chipping Campden, returning by way of Dover’s Hill, which I either visited twice or missed out at the beginning of the walk. This was not a great walk, but the next day would be much more memorable for completely different reasons.

St Ives to Land’s End

Tuesday 24th July 2001 

Continuing the account of my holiday of 2001 in Cornwall I come now to a really tough day that really pushed me to my limits. I was walking from the railway station in the picturesque resort of St Ives to the Land’s End Youth Hostel in the Cot Valley along the South West Coast Path. I had been dreading this walk for weeks as it was the longest walk that I had planned, but checking the distance I don’t think I would find it that hard now. The distance between St Ives and the Cot Valley according to the distance calculator on the official website of the South West Coast Path is 18.7 miles, which is not an impossible distance even taking into account the hilly terrain, but I had other problems as well that made this walk one of the toughest I have ever done. 

I started just before 10 am after travelling to St Ives by train from Penzance, where I had been staying. The first couple of miles were okay as I walked through the artist’s resort of St Ives onto the South West Coast Path on a fabulously rough path above dramatic cliffs and under hot, cloudless skies. It wasn’t long however before I realised that I had lost my compass and I had to go back for it, eventually finding it some distance back lying on the path, but in my desperate rush to run back I got very hot. I remember stopping for lunch near the village of Zennor and draping a towel over my head as the heat poured off me. Beyond Zennor the terrain is very rough with many steep gradients which were just pure torture in the sweltering temperatures. I hated the heat and every rise and fall of the land was agony. During this time my nose starting running freely and this further drained my energy. Ever since this time I have noticed that during strenuous walks, particularly in hot weather, my nose sometimes starts to run so now I make sure that I have packed some tissues with me. This was the first time I’d ever noticed the phenomena so I had no tissues with me. I’m not sure what causes it (I didn’t have a cold), but it may have been related to not drinking enough water. I had taken just one litre of water on this walk which proved to be nowhere near enough. On a strenuous walk in hot weather one needs to take a lot of water or basically as much as you can carry and ever since I have tried to make sure I take plenty of water with me. 

Once I got to Pendeen Watch the terrain eased, the weather cooled and I was able to buy a drink from an ice cream van. It was now 4pm and I had come to the most interesting part of the walk. Beyond Pendeen Watch is a large collection of old tin mines, most notably Levant Mine. I remember walking through the ruins of our mining past with awe at the high chimneys and the huge area that these mines covered. At Cape Cornwall the remaining part of my carefully rationed water ran out and I limped down the hill into the Cot Valley. During the course of the day I had a pain in my shin got gradually worse but for now that wasn’t so much of a concern as the pain from the sunburn that I had acquired the day before which no amount of sun cream seemed to stop. Eventually I arrived near the hostel but I could not find a way across the river to the hostel. In my dehydrated, exhausted state this was the last thing I needed. Eventually I found someone to ask directions, but I’m afraid I rather snapped at them. I was not in a good state of mind. Wearily I dragged myself to the youth hostel, thanks to the directions that I had been given, where I was able to get a drink from the friendly staff. Despite aching legs I was able to get a long night’s sleep and regain my energy, but this mammoth walk had taken everything out of me.

Land’s End to Porthcurno 

Wednesday 25th July 2001 

The shin splinter that had been getting gradually worse during the course of the previous day was just as bad in the morning as it had been when I went to bed. My original plan for this day had been to walk all the way back to Penzance along the South West Coast Path, but my limping progress the first couple of miles soon put a stop to that idea. Slowly I walked past the popular seaside resort of Sennen Cove to Land’s End and its tacky theme park. At Land’s End I ate a lunch bought at exorbitant prices from the theme park and after writing a postcard home I continued along the coast as fast as my leg would allow. After Land’s End the Atlantic becomes the English Channel and the terrain eases so by walking very slowly and taking every shortcut that I could find along the way I was finally able to reach Porthcurno. It was almost 4pm when I eventually descended to the packed beach having limped my way along ten weary miles (maybe a little less with the route I took), and my forearms were still in agony as a result of my short-sightedness of the previous Monday despite tonnes of sun cream since. I couldn’t go any further so I walked into Porthcurno and visited the excellent Museum of Submarine Telegraphy (the Trans-Atlantic telecommunication cables come into Britain at Porthcurno), before catching a bus to Penzance. 

Any idea of further walking this holiday had been removed thanks to my aching leg. With hindsight I shouldn’t have done such a strenuous walk on the Tuesday when I already had a shin splinter (or whatever it was that was wrong with my leg). Thankfully this is the worst that I have injured myself while walking and it was nothing serious, my leg eventually healed itself with plenty of rest once I got home. I feel like I seemed to have turned a corner with the walks that I did during this holiday. They were my first really serious, strenuous walks and they really put me to the test. Although I didn’t come out of them in perfect health I learnt a lot during this holiday that I continue to put into practice during my walks.