Bath
31st October, 1992
1st November, 1992
2nd November, 1992
3rd November, 1992
4th November, 1992
5th November, 1992
6th November, 1992
Saturday 31st October, 1992
oday was another freezing dawn, car scraping again before heading west. An uneventful day, insofar as nothing big, either bad or good happened on the way. But it was very pleasant driving down country roads lined with vividly coloured autumn trees and it was fine and sunny and packed with small incidents. For example, we stopped for morning coffee in a very pleasant place, by a pool with swimming gulls. It didn't say "private" although there was a no fishing sign. So we parked under a tree by the water and had our coffee.
It was halfway through this when I saw movement under the water and when we looked further we saw that the water was seething with enormous trout. It was incredible, must have been a fish farm or something.
nyway, on we went, and as we were just tootling along, we passed a group of people inflating a hot air balloon. We've seen lots of them in the air, in fact we saw two today, but I've never seen one on the ground before. Then, just as we got to Devizes we looked across the rolling plains etc and on the side of a distant green hill we saw a white horse hill figure cut into the side of it. I must try to get closer.
Brochure for the Old Dairy, Greyfields Farm, Avon
hen we arrived at High Littleton, where our cottage, The Old Dairy, is located at Greyfields Farm. This cottage is unquestionably the best yet. It is perfect for two, a long ranch style, one room deep with doors out to the yard at the back which has a picnic table and masses of ducks and chooks of all kinds. There is a bathroom larger than ours at home, with bath, shower recess, toilet and bidet!, heated towel rails, you name it. The bedroom has a queensize bed with a doona, the kitchen has an automatic washing machine and microwave oven as well as the usual stove and all other amenities. The lounge has two recliner chairs, an antique dropfront desk, TV and video with remote control and a chest of books, everything from Chairman Mao's little red book to Douglas Adams. I like the landlady, who left a bottle of wine in the fridge and provides lots of local information, a free tumble dryer, video library and sports equipment. The cottage is centrally heated and very well equipped . At only ninety five pounds per week, it seems too good to be true.
Brochure for the Old Dairy, Greyfields Farm, Avon
Sunday, 1st November, 1992
Pulteney Bridge, Bath from the River Avon
oday we did two loads of washing, went to Bath and walked around the City. We spent a couple of hours in the Costume Museum which is located in the old Assembly Rooms, had lunch at Sally Lunn's tea shop (the oldest house in Bath) and went on a cruise up the Avon to Bathampton, where Capt. Arthur Phillip is buried.
Monday, 2nd November, 1992
terrible start to the day, rain pelted down and the wind was galeforce. We decided to go to Wookey Hole Cave and Papermill because at least it would be indoors. On the ten mile trip the visibility was very bad as the rain lashed the windscreen but as soon as we turned off the main road towards Wookey Hole, it stopped.
e toured the Cave system which is not limestone, like Jenolan, but something peculiar the locals call "puddingstone"(and the guide said was Dolomitic Conglomerate - so there!) There is a lot of water in the caves, millions of gallons (literally) flow through every day. They are not as spectacular as Jenolan but are spectacular for all that. There is also a prehistoric hyaena's den (yes I know, but it isn't a fake. Bones of all sorts of creatures from mammoths and woolly rhinoceros to cave man have been identified from here. )
he Victorian Papermill is (or was) driven by the water and you can see the processes of making paper by hand from not wood pulp but cotton. There used to be teams of ragpickers working there but now apparently there is too much synthetic fibre in the sheets etc so they use raw cotton from America. There was also a collection of fair ground machines, merrygorounds and the like, a mirror maze and penny arcade (5 pennies for 20p.)and a very interesting museum. By the time we got outside again the sky was blue and the wind had dropped enough for us to have a picnic there.
The Povertygate, Wells, Somerset
hen we went on to Wells, the smallest city in England. It is a city by virtue of its wonderful Cathedral. We explored it and it is so beautiful. The decor features a system of inverted arches which is unique among all the Cathedrals we have seen (and that's plenty). It also has an ancient clock which has knights on horseback tilting to strike the hours and quarters. Fascinating. The Bishop's Palace is a moated castle, complete with drawbridge, of which the moat is formed by the famous wells, a spring which gave the town its name. Out to one side of the Cathedral is Vicar's Close, where the vicars of the Cathedral choir used to live. It is the most complete, probably the only complete 14th C. street in Europe. You enter through an archway with a dining hall over it, then the street is lined on both sides by houses built in the 1300's and completed in the 1400's. At the end of the cobbled (no cars allowed) street is a chapel. It is perfectly lovely and Mac found a host of cats to talk to. There were two supercilious tabbies and one large and one small black cat, which leapt around like a mad thing chasing autumn leaves and trying to disappear up drain pipes.
o get to the Cathedral we walked through the Povertygate, which opened on to the Market Square. The Povertygate was where the monks of the Cathedral gave alms to the poor. The gate led to the lovely Cathedral.
Rosemary by the moat of the Bishop's Palace, Wells
I liked Wells. I think if I were offered a home in any city in Britain I would choose Wells. It is small, only about 10,000 population, and so beautiful. York, Chester,Bath, Shrewsbury and Edinburgh are also old and beautiful but their traffic and sheer size spoils it rather for me. No, Wells takes the prize, I think. Home, still in galeforce wind but not raining. May it continue.
Tuesday, 3rd November, 1992
ff today to Wales. First to Caerleon, the Roman garrison of Isca. I had read about the amphitheatre there so we went to explore it. It is perfectly circular and the foundations are all there. Then we walked along a Roman street to see the foundations of a Roman legionary barracks, which, although quite extensive, was only a fraction of what had been there. The Legionary Museum had a marvellous exhibit of finds from the site including a lot of glass, relatively intact, and a great collection of engraved seals (intaglio) on semi precious stones found in the ruins of the baths. Natural that they should be dislodged from their ring settings by the hot water. Fascinating.
View from Symonds Yat
hen we headed up the course of the Usk River to Abergavenny, then on to Monmouth and Symonds Yat. The Yat is apparently a stone (cliff sized) and the views down to the Wye Valley were absolutely fantastic. All the trees are different colours now and the area is beautiful. It was starting to get dark when we headed for home, down the Wye Valley, but not too dark to see the ruins of Tintern Abbey, probably the most intact we have seen, and quite lovely, as we passed. The weather was mostly fine and it was an interesting run, along the Motorway and the Severn Bridge, two and a half miles long and spectacular, toll of two pounds eighty, but only charged going into Wales, not coming out.
Wednesday, 4th November, 1992
Cheddar Gorge
ff in fine weather again (they'd better be careful or we'll get used to it) through narrow country lanes and villages with names like Stoke Chewton and Hatton Chew to the Chew Valley Lake, which is a dam for the Bristol Water Works, picturesque though, with lots of waterbirds, picnic areas etc. Then on to Cheddar Gorge, a hugely scenic, rather blue mountainish area, riddled with caves and souvenir shops.
e stopped at "cheddar rural village" which had a Cheddar (of course) cheese factory, museum and shop, a cider museum and shop, a potter, a cooper and a fudge maker. I tried my hand at throwing a pot and it turned out quite well, I enjoyed it and the potter said I should take it up. I just might. We tasted cheese, cider, mead and fudge and bought some mature cheddar, some scrumpy cider and some absolutely sinful choc rum and raisin fudge and some coffee and cream fudge. Yummmmm. The whole area is beautiful but we decided that one cave per week was enough after Wookey Hole on Monday.
The Glastonbury Thorn Tree
fter lunch we drove to Glastonbury, town of myths and legends. We saw the ruined Abbey, the oldest foundation in Britain, with a thorn tree growing there which is said to be a descendant of the staff made from the Crown of Thorns tree in Palestine by Joseph of Arimathea which took root in the soil of Glastonbury Tor. There is also the site of the grave of King Arthur and his Queen. Apparently, the monks found the ancient log coffin with a lead cross inscribed to that effect after the Abbey burned down in the 12th Century. Whether or not the story is true, it is very intriguing.
Glastonbury Abbey Guide Book
Postcard of the Abbot's Kitchen, Glastonbury Abbey
The only intact building is the Abbott's kitchen which contains a fascinating account of monastic life and a history of the place. It's funny, Mac finds these places just as interesting as I do but he professes no interest in history or religion. He says he would never have thought of going to them, left to himself, but enjoys them when he gets there.
Thursday, 5th November, 1992
emember, remember, the 5th of November. We headed off for Dorset in very misty weather which cleared to a lovely afternoon. First to Sherborne, a lovely small town with an old castle, a new castle (more of an Elizabethan manor, built by Sir Walter Raleigh on land provided by Elizabeth I). She gave him the old castle (12thC) but he didn't like it and built a new one. The old one was reduced to rubble by Cromwell (but it took him 16 days). It's been abandoned ever since. It is managed by English Heritage and their very enthusiastic custodian there persuaded us that we should join, because there were lots of sites in Devon, Cornwall and Hampshire and the Isle of Wight "and at this toime of yar, are soites are the only ones open" He had a point, we only wish we had met him at Hadrian's Wall or somewhere two months ago. However it will save us some money, even now. We had our lunch on a bench by the dry ditch of the old castle, looking out over the ditch, wall, lake and lawn to the new castle, which as I said was more a lovely Elizabethan mansion. The fact of it's being built by Sir Walter Raleigh makes it more interesting.
hen we drove to Dorchester, and by villages with strange names (Piddle Trenthide, Winterbourne Abbas) to catch a glimpse of Thomas Hardy's cottage (closed now for winter). We walked through the forest to it, amid crunching leaves underfoot (covering the mud) and chattering squirrels overhead. All this Dorset area is Hardy country, he just thinly disguised the names of the towns (e.g. Dorchester is Casterbridge and Sherborne is Sherton Abbas) It's lovely, very green and rural. Coming through Winterbourne Monkton we encountered a hunt! Redcoated and top hatted horsemen and packs of hounds. Whatever you think of foxhunting (and my opinion is the same as Oscar Wilde's) it was a sight you do not see every day.
Unfortunately, my camera was empty.
Friday, 6th November, 1992
Glastonbury Tor, Somerset
irst to Glastonbury where we were unable to get into the Chalice Well (where Joseph of Arimathea hid the Holy Grail) because we were too early, so we went to look at Glastonbury Tor, site of myth and magic. Unfortunately I felt inadequate to the task of climbing it so we just looked, waylaid on the way by a wild and apparently hungry cat on a gatepost, biting the hand which was trying to feed it.
hen we drove on through Bridgewater and Taunton and the site of the Battle of Sedgemoor (where Captain Blood was involved innocently and transported ) to Cleeve Abbey, nearly on the coast. Cleeve is a rarity, a ruined Abbey that was not totally destroyed at the Dissolution, but turned into farm buildings. There was a lot left, including upper rooms, of which one still had traces of 13th century paint in pictures on the wall and the refectory had an incredible timber ceiling with carved figures and bosses all around it. The dorter was intact and a lot of the cloisters. After all the ruins we have seen, which only had foundations and broken tracery left it was a real insight into what a small abbey would have been like.
Gatehouse of Cleeve Abbey, Somerset
ome to clean up a bit as we leave for Devon/Cornwall tomorrow. Our last full week. It is rather sad, but I think I will be glad to get home. Everything is beautiful and interesting but I am tired.
