Toller Fratrum, Wynford Eagle and West Compton

The weather forecast looked great again and I find it hard to resist the opportunity to get out and walk. Fortified by my last walk, I plotted a route which was 11.4 miles and intended setting out earlier than usual. Note to self - always set off half an hour earlier than you think you need to, otherwise you'll set off half an hour later. So that's what happened today.

My parking spot had been chosen only because I wasn't sure I could park amywhere else and didn't want to be driving round for ages looking. At least I knew for certain I could park where there was a big blue P sign on the map - do not be fooled by big blue P signs; they do not always mean what you think they mean. I squeezed into the parking spot, got my gaiters on (eventually) and set off eager to take my first photo on this serene day.

Field systems great - Paul would be pleased!


The first part of the walk was a bit monotonous. I'd thought there'd be no traffic on the road, which was a mistake; there was quite a lot of farm traffic on the road so I kept having to smile sweetly and step onto the muddy verge to allow vehicles to pass. But hey ho, it was a lovely day and it couldn't be far to the footpath surely? On checking my map (for the umpteenth time), I discovered it was about a mile to the footpath, which is longer than I generally like to walk along a road. With not much to photograph, I listened to the sounds of birds and looked for signs of spring whilst I plodded on tar mac and took a boring photo of a farm sign for SY5595 - albeit the sign for Woolcombe Farm, the supplier of Eggardon Natural Spring Water.

Field systems (SY5594)

Tree on Shatcombe Lane

Woolcombe Farm (SY5595)

I worked out that the next gridsquare was where I'd leave the road and join the footpath for Ferndown Farm so I plodded along until that point.

Bridleway to Ferndown Farm (SY5695)

I managed to miss the footpath at Ferndown Farm - it is confusing, there being a confluence of footpaths at this point. Fortunately I hadn't gone far so I retraced my steps and went through a gate and headed north-east towards Prestwood. I wasn't in this square for very long, but I was in the next one for even less long!

Bridleway to Ferndown Farm (SY5696)

Prestwood (SY5697)

Footpath crossroads: Toller Porcorum/Wynford Eagle/Toller Fratrum/Shatcombe Lane (SY5796)

I was approaching Toller Fratrum and my first destination. There was an unusual conduit upheld by stone pillars just after Little Toller Farm; for which purpose I knew not.

Conduit at little Toller Farm (SY5797)

I followed the sign to the church and there amidst the daffodils was a quaint little church with an interesting history.

Parish Church of St Basil. Toller Fratrum (SY5797)

'Toller' is Saxon for 'River with deep gravelly pools' and 'Fratrum' translates as 'of the brothers'. I wasn't able to confirm the veracity of either of these claims. There has been a church on the site since time immemorial. Of particular note in this one is the font (apparently). Scholars dispute the age, but agree that it is very old! There is either a man-faced Lion of Judah succouring the human race depicted in the stonework or Christ and His apostles, some of whom are depicted as martyrs. Take your pick.

But I was more interested in the newspaper article about 'The Titfield Thunderbolt'. Apparently the congregation and the vicar fell out because the congregation objected to the 'happy-clappy' style of worship introduced by their vicar and subsequently declared a state of independence which effectively closed the church. Seems rather a shame to me.

Metaphorically closed or not, the door seemed to me to be literally closed and locked. Despite following the instructions to 'give the door a good push', I couldn't gain access to this little church. having partaken of my morning tea, I reluctantly turned away, resigning myself to not getting in, when I bumped into a parishioner and inquired about the church. He promptly gave the door a good push (evidently better than my push) and the door opened!

Inside St Basil's Church - it is lit mostly by candles.

Font in St Basil's Church, Toller Fratrum

After a quick look round, I left the church for a second time and headed off into a cow field. Oops. I really don't like it when there are cows in a footpathed field. I have repeatedly sought reassurance from farmers about this, hoping that they'll say something like 'Oh, don't worry about them! They'll not go anywhere near you!' Sadly, however, this hasn't happened; quite the opposite in fact. They've advised me to walk through a different field instead (in some cases!)

In this instance, I walked at some distance from the cows and calves and breathed a sigh of relief when I was safely through the gate. I wandered up High Hill and eastwards to Fore Hill, noting the many pits (dis) in view.

View west from High Hill (SY5796)

Pits (dis) in Blanchard Plantation (SY5896)

The hamlet of Wynford Eagle and my second church was soon in view, nestled in the valley between two chalk ridges. I passed the time of day with some removal men and walked down to the church. Sadly this one was definitely locked, but I peered through the grating and got a good idea of the lay out of the interior.

Apparently 'Wynford' is derived from an old Celtic river name for a tributary to the River Frome meaning 'white' or 'bright stream' and 'Eagle' is from the medieval family of Gilbert del Egle (latinized form de Aquila) who came from L’Aigle in France.

Wynford Eagle's most famous resident was Thomas Sydenham, born in the Manor House in 1624. An Oxford graduate he went on to serve in the Parliamentary army and then to practise as a doctor and surgeon in Westminster. In the course of his life he is credited as being the first person to write clinical descriptions of many diseases, including scarlet fever, pleurisy and gout. Now known as The English Hippocrates, his achievements were not recognised during his lifetime. He died in 1689 and is buried in St James' Churchyard, Piccadilly.

Whilst I could not go in the church, I could admire the tympanum beside the door.This is a sort of arched stone carving and is relatively rare. This one depicts two beasts which look about to engage in battle.

St Lawrence's Church, Wynford Eagle (SY5895)

Tympanum, St Lawrence's Church, Wynford Eagle

Bridge over tributary of River Hooke (SY5895)

I headed south now, crossing the tributary of the River Hooke and looking back often to the picturesque scene I'd left behind.

St Lawrence's Church, Wynford Eagle

I briefly entered SY5795 and took a photo of a barn and then continued on the Jubilee Trail south through arable land (SY5794 and SY5793), with little of excitement to photograph, with the exception of an ancient settlement northwest of Compton Barn.

Barn on Jubilee Trail, Round Hill (SY5795)



Settlement near Compton Barn (SY5794)

Reservoir on Jubilee Trail (SY5793)

I crossed the minor road and entered a large plantation, mainly of Scots Pines with a good footpath running through it and plenty of signs advising that access to the right and left was largely prohibited on the grounds that it was a conservation area.

I stopped for lunch in the middle of this plantation and watched Chaffinches and other passerines flit amongst the trees.

Crossroads in woodland (SY5792)

A standing stone was my feature for SY5791, albeit from a distance as the footpath did not run through the field in question.

Standing Stone near Long Bredy (SY5791)

It took a while to cross the busy A35 and reach my southernmost gridsquare of the day - and the trigpoint at Martin's Down. There are fantastic views from here and lots of archaeological interest for those who have time in the form of many tumuli and barrows. I'm always heartened to see the sea and looked yearningly towards its glistening form before turning my back on it and heading northwards.

Trigpoint, Martin's Down (SY5791)

Long Bredy from Martin's Down

Tumulus, Martin's Down (SY5791)

There is a plethora of ancient burial grounds in this area and another tumulus, north of the A35 and en route to North Barn Farm was my chosen feature for SY5691.

Tumulus, North Barn Farm (SY5691)

SY5692 and SY5693 were rather boring squares and I was growing weary. The footpath wends its way north through arable land and is crossed by wacking great pylons.

Footpath northwards from North Barn Farm (SY5692)

Approaching the Roman Road near West Compton (SY5693)

SY5693 was far from boring birdwise, however. I scared a small flock of Golden Plover and was delighted to hear their piping call, reminiscent of long hill walking days on Islay.

When I got to the road I realised that I couldn't join the footpath I had in mind without scrambling under a barbed wire fence. Instead I walked westwards along the road.

I joined another right of way (shown by green circles) and headed down the valley towards West Compton.

Approaching West Compton (SY5693)

I took a wrong turn at West Compton but quickly realised my mistake and retraced my steps, turning right just before the archway to West Compton house. I was busy admiring a garden bench made from a cartwheel when a voice addressed me, "Hello," Awoken from my woodworking reverie, I turned to see a lady drinking tea in her garden. I enquired about the church (my third of the day) and she said it was closed to the public. her tone indicated her displeasure at this fact and my reply indicated mine! "Oh, I've come such a long way," I implored, hoping that she could magically open the doors for me. She advised me to return from whence I'd come (Really?) and bang on the door of the big house. I followed her advice (I dared not do otherwise for her eyes were following me) and found Mr Stewart mending a roof. he was ever so sorry, he assured me, but he couldn't open the church for me as he was fixing a roof whilst he still had daylight. I understood, I replied, disappointment and disbelief in my voice as I turned away. In the end, he gave me his phone number so I could arrange a guided tour next time I was 'passing'. This information did little to appease the embittered tea drinker. "We raised a vast sum of money at the fete for the church", she bemoaned and even we can't access the church.

It took a lot of will-power to turn down the proffered cup of tea ("I've still got two miles to go," I explained "and if I sit down, I'll not get back up again.") I assured the lovely couple that when I returned I would take them up on their offer of refreshments for I found out they were going to Skye in April and in fact the husband hailed from Barra.    Instead I went on to view the church and its Churchill gravestones (relatives of our erstwhile Prime Minister). 

St Michael's Church, West Compton (SY5694)

I headed westwards now, past Eggardon Hill Farm where I waited for a farmer to herd his sheep. he then pointed out the way I should go to return to my car. I had viewed my car from several different locations throughout the day and none so frustrating as now for I had to walk an extra mile on designated footpaths in order to reach it legitimately (rather than wander illegitimately through fields and perhaps be thwarted by barbed wire fences).

Though all my squares were 'done' I paused to take photos when it pleased me and also to add to my list of birds for the day as I saw Tufted Duck, Moorhen and Mallard at a pond just beyond the farm. had I had time, inclination or energy i would also have paused to pass the time of day with a pair of cyclists who may also have been trig baggers who were taking photos at the trigpoint at Eggardon Hill. It would only have been a short detour, but my 11.4 miles had turned into 13.5 miles and my feet were begging for a rest.

It had been a good day. 13.5 miles and 16 gridsquares.

Piddletrenthide to Lyscombe (again)

I know I said that there were far too many gridsquares to return to a place, but I so enjoyed my walk on Thursday that I wanted to share it with Paul. I also wanted to find my hat and actually explore the interior of the chapel which I had so carefully avoided on the grounds that I thought it was somebody's home. Trouble was, the weather was nowhere near as good as it had been on Thursday.

I planned a slightly different route which would include the route I took and where I thought I might have lost my hat, but which would also take in a few extra gridsquares.

We passed a settlement on West Hill, which really just looks like a few lumps and bumps in the ground, but makes an interesting feature for a gridsquare photograph. (ST7002). I'm really too embarrassed to include it here because it really is a boring photo.

I wish it had been sunny today because we saw some amazing field systems. Now Paul gets really excited about field systems. I always like it when he gets his camera out - it makes a change from it always being me who takes the photos - and field systems are a sure fire way of him getting his camera out. I have to admit they looked pretty good (even if they didn't constitute a gridsquare photo as they were in one square and I was in another so it doesn't count - purist that I am!)

Field system, Watcombe Plain (east side of valley)

After getting very excited about that field system, we got a tiny bit more excited when we realised we were walking through another field system. Yes, I mean that our feet were treading on the very boundaries of ancient fields - you really know your day has been made when that happens. At the T-junction of the Wessex ridgeway, I wandered left gratuitously for about 100 metres just so I could get a photo of ST 70 03 (I really thought I'd left those days of gratuitous walking behind when I left Islay!) It was an even more boring photo than the one of the West Hill settlement so I'm not including it here.

I really wanted to take a photo of Little Elias Copse because of its name, but that would have meant even more gratuitous walking, so I satisfied myself with a photo of the Celtic enclosure at the north boundary of Watcombe Wood for ST7103 (honestly it was just more lumps and bumps so i'm not including it here.)

This part of the walk was fascinating - full of ancient history and I would like to return (yes, I know, AGAIN) to take photos in the sunshine - it does make such a difference. It was also interesting to view where I'd walked from the west side of the valley. i could just make out the trigpoint on Higher Hill.

On we trotted to Ball Hill and down to Folly where the Fox Inn is no longer a pub, but still has a Fox as its weather vane. That made my photo for ST 7203, which I'll include despite its boringness.

Fox Inn, Folly

Gate detail, Ball Hill

As we entered ST7303 and circumnavigated Nettlecombe Tout, I was back on familiar territory and could stop looking at the map quite as often. After all, we needed all four eyes to look for my hat.

At the Dorsetshire Gap we took time to sign the rather damp Visitors' Book and ponder on the five ancient intersecting routes which meet here. Then on through the mud to the top of Nettlecombe Tout where we could see the fort and made a mental note to return in better weather to have a bit of explore there. We turned past the funny little building again and scoured the landscape for my hat. We eventually found it perched on a gatepost near Higher Melcombe. Yippee!! It was slightly damp, but not too bad considering it had been out in the rain for three days.

We stopped for lunch at Lyscombe Chapel again - this time inside the building. Although it was probably no warmer inside, and definitely damper, the place is beautiful. Very simply decorated and apparently restored in 2007, for which it won awards due to it being in keeping with the original workmanship. It has a thatched roof, a rustic wooden cross and some pillars have been restored and part of the upper storey to show what it would have looked like in its heyday. Apparently there were once bedrooms up there.

It is a most delightful place and I would like to return in each season to admire its different flora and fauna.

We strode out across another gridsquare now - yet more boring fields towards Thorncombe Farm and Whitcombe Hill (two more squares). Then we rejoined the path I had taken from Whitcombe Barn on Thursday, but instead of turning left down Tallon's Lane, we continued past Dole's Ash Farm (a massive, rather posh place), crossed the minor road and walked past New Barn Farm (another gridsquare), through Tokenhills Coppice to the minor road between Piddletrenthide and Plush. Here we saw rather an unusual structure - it looked a bit like a sunken hobbit's house, with just the chimney sticking up out of the ground. We discovered later that it is in fact a hydraulic ram (I'm not entirely sure what that is either, but something to do with water!)

Hydraulic Ram, Piddletrenthide

We wandered through Redlands Coppice, admiring the coppiced hazels and realised we'd strayed form the footpath and needed to fight our way through said hazel back to the road, where we turned off onto the footpath which led back to the church. Another great walk.

Distance: 10.8 miles

New gridsquares covered:  6

Piddletrenthide to Lyscombe

My brand new (published 2016) More Secret Places of Dorset book recommends visiting the secluded Lyscombe Chapel 'in the early morning or evening for a heady dose of atmosphere.' Should I really be advertising on the internet a place that rejoices in the epithet of 'secret'? Well, given that only 7 people read my last post, I don't think I need worry too much! (Sadly)

My book also assumes one will be arriving by car - what a ludicrous suggestion to someone who is attempting foot by foot to photograph every Dorset gridsquare! So I painstakingly worked out an approximately 10 mile route which just touched the red route of my previous Bulbarrow Hill walk - well, it's so satisfying to see all these red routes on the Ordnance Survey 'joining hands' across the gridsquares.

My route started in Piddletrenthide, partly for convenience of parking and partly for the sheer joy of starting from somewhere which delights in a name like Piddletrenthide. My attempts to start walking before 9 am were thwarted however by 1) icy roads, 2) taking a wrong turning in the village (due to my stubborn refusal to use the Garmin sat nav 3) road blockage by an oil tanker. The latter was filling a property's oil tank and taking up the whole road. The frustrating thing about it was that I had shunned one parking spot because I decided it would be best to park at the church. Unbeknownst to me I had missed the church car park and had just decided I would turn round when I came upon the tanker. With one car in front of me and a car and a digger behind I was blocked in. "I only want to drive a few more yards," I protested to the driver in front when I'd got out of the car to see if they knew how long it would be before traffic flowed again. My protests were in vain, not that he could have done anything about the tanker, but it sounded like he wouldn't have done anything anyway, because he started to engage in an argument with a fellow driver about who should reverse back to allow the tanker to pass.

When I finally parked (outside Mr Angry's house - with his permission), I listened to him relate the tale of the tanker to his wife whilst I donned my gaiters (unusually for me) and boots. How I wish I could do a Mr Benn and just stand there with arms slightly outstretched and watch all the appropriate clothing attach itself to me within seconds!

I marched off triumphantly at 9.52 am, about 50 minutes later than I'd wanted to. I had everything marked on both GPS and phone. It was so exciting. And what a glorious day. Yes, I would revel in the day's apricity and not reinforce those negative thoughts of exasperation by giving them anymore room in my brain. "Be gone, negativity!" I exhorted my mind - and it was, just like that! Well, sort of!

Piddletrenthide - (ST 70 00)

I climbed my first hill out of Piddletrenthide, which I guess is East Hill, although it seems to stretch northwards really, pausing to take another photo of my first gridsquare of the day with a view back to Piddletrenthide.

Piddletrenthide - (ST 70 01)

I wiggled my way across the fielded summit of East Hill and then descended to Plush via some unmarked strip lynchets. (Having seen quite a few of these now, I feel I'm something of an expert on identifying them - although, to be honest, it'd be hard not to be an expert on it.) This took me into gridsquare number 2 and I was delighted to find (yes really) that my view of the village and the village itself lay within the same gridsquare. Yippee! A photo was in order and duly taken before my descent into the village where a master thatcher was at work on the roof of a thatched cottage (where else?)

East Hill, Piddletrenthide (ST 70 01)

Nettlecombe Tout from West Hill (ST 70 01)

The Old Schoolhouse, Plush (ST 71 02)

Plush Church (ST 71 02)

After a brief coffee stop at the church, I started my ascent of Plush Hill which is adorned with a water tank which apparently once had an Ordnance Survey benchmark on it, but which apparently no longer does - not one I could find at any rate (if I haven't already mentioned my obsession with benchmarks, what can I say except it makes walking even more interesting!) I was onto my fourth gridsquare already and the day was young. I'd almost forgotten that my chosen footpath took me straight to a trigpoint as well - until I saw it in the distance. That was square number 5. By now the apricity was so great that I had to stop to take off my fleece and hat. The views from Higher Hill (where the trigpoint was) are fantastic all round. I couldn't really get a handle on what I was looking at, but who cares! The sun was shining, the Buzzards were riding the thermals and I was happy. I'd photographed five gridsquares. Yippee!!

At this point I was walking along the ridge of Higher Hill, so no uphill slog, just wonderful views of the valley and surrounding hills - and several cross dykes, a feature I'm not quite as confident about identifying as strip lynchets, but which Wikipedia informs me are  prehistoric land boundaries - now that is surely something to get excited about - in my book anyway!

Cross dyke on Higher Hill (ST 72 02)

View west along the ridge of  Higher Hill (ST 73 02)

Higher Hill trigpoint (ST 72 02)

It wasn't long before I had to make the first of several decisions that day. Do I continue on my originally planned route and risk being late for our house viewing appointment at 4.30 pm or do I take the shortcut and miss out on Nettlecombe Tout? I decided it would just be too much of a sacrifice to miss out on Nettlecombe Tout. After all, I'd deliberately planned my route to include this intriguingly named massif. And it meant more gridsquares :)

Fortunately I did not have to climb the 258 metres of its height as the footpath circumnavigates the ancient fort. I have since discovered that the fort looks a lot more inspiring upon approach than it does from its foot and is probably worth another look.

Nettlecombe Tout from the west. (ST 73 03)

Having circumnavigated the Tout, I had another decision to make. I was keen to join up with the route of my previous walk in the area, but was conscious of the time. I hate having time restrictions when I'm out walking and it is unusual for me to be bound by one, but this time I decided I had better miss out the joining up bit and take a shorter route instead. I did happen upon what I discovered is the Dorsetshire Gap - an intersection of five ancient trackways. I was disappointed to discover that I had missed the Visitors' Book. All things to go back for. But with over 2500 gridsquares still to do, I don't have time to revisit any of them!

Signpost at the Dorsetshire Gap (ST 74 03)

Victim of a storm near Nettlecombe Tout (ST 73 03)

I continued up to the southern summit of Nettlecombe Tout (but didn't realise that until later) and happened upon an unusual building which seemed to serve no other purpose than be a place to put footpath signs on.

I passed more cross dykes on my way down to Lyscombe Chapel. I was making myself wait until Lyscombe Chapel for lunch, despite feeling hungry. I was conscious of the time  and knew I'd want to stop and take photos of this allegedly haunted chapel so there was no point having another stop before then to have lunch.

Cross dyke near Higher Melcombe (ST 74 02)

Funny building for purpose of putting footpath signs on? (ST73 02)

Sheep at Higher Melcombe (ST 73 02)

I wandered down Hog Hill and paused to take in the beauty which is Lyscombe Bottom - an ampitheatre of green (with noticeably no cows).

Hog Hill (ST74 01)

Lyscombe Bottom (ST 73 01)

Now for my first glance of the chapel. I was reminded of when I first cast eyes on Tigh na Speur on Islay (Sky cottage for non-Gaelic speakers). After hours of wading knee deep through bracken and heather, crossing featureless, pathless, spaghnum moss and peat, adorned with Round-leaved Sundew and Butterwort, I looked across a criss-crossed blanket peat bog and viewed a miniature heaven. OK, so there was no spaghnum, sundew, peat, bracken or heather and there was a plethora of paths on this occasion, but otherwise it was - well nothing like it really, I suppose, except that inside I anticipated it in the same way that I'd anticipated my first sight of that delightful little Scottish ruin.

I have to admit it wasn't the 'Wow' moment that I'd known when I saw Tigh na Speur,  more a sort of an 'Is that it?' moment. However, there was a bench and Snowdrops and so I paused and relished my cheese and onion pasty in the apricity (yes I know I've used that word three times; when you learn a delicious new word like that you just have to take every opportunity to use it - it means 'the warmth of the winter sun', in case you're wondering).

It was here that I realised I'd lost my hat and also that I didn't really have enough time (or energy) to retraces miles of steps to find it. I'd had to swap my lovely Arran bobble hat for my sun hat because there was just no cloud to ward off the brow-beating sun (a terrible problem, I know). When I saw another walker approach I started garnering courage to ask if they had espied a black bobble hat, but they vanished into thin air in a ghost-like fashion before I had chance to say 'Good Afternoon'. 

Lunch eaten, I went to explore. Now, I wish I'd had more courage to try the door of what I assumed was a holiday cottage next to what I assumed was the ruinous chapel. When I got back home and returned to my 'Secret West Dorset' book, I read with mounting frustration that the thatched and intact building was in fact the chapel and that the building I'd taken lots of photos of was simply a ruined cottage (albeit a fascinating one). Well, I had several things to return for so that was just an additional one - and the finding of my hat being the biggest one so far.

The chapel dates from the 12th century and was part of the endowment of Milton Abbey, which is located a few miles eastwards. In the 17th century it is thought that the chapel became a dwelling. The ruined cottage next to the chapel was the Bishop's Cottage. It is altogether a most delightful place. At the time of my visit there was an empty music stand in the Bishop's Cottage which looked rather forlorn. I'll bring some sheet music for it next time.

The delightful Lyscombe Chapel and cottage (ST 73 01)

Lyscombe Cottage (with upper storey fireplace intact) (ST 73 01)

I now had to put the double shuffle on as my mum would say. There was one more shortcut I could take at Whitcombe Barn. I wandered round a potato field trying to find the way which would be least damaging to the crops under my now heavy feet. I don't think I succeeded, but I reached the road and a welcome veritable track to Whitcombe Barn - and my shortcut. Something exciting (cartographically) happens at Whitcombe Barn. Bear with me on this. The first two letters of the Ordnance Survey British grid reference change from ST to SY (the pair of letters represent 100 km square).  I'm not exactly sure how it all works, but I find it exciting and I just know you're buzzing too!

Fields near Thorncombe Farm (ST 72 00)

Whitcombe Barn (SY 72 99)

I committed a bit of a crime here in digressing from the footpath in order to take my short cut (but don't worry, I only missed out on one gridsquare as a result). Then ensued a bit of a boring slog through arable fields back to Piddletrenthide. Here I came across several dog walkers - a sure sign that you are within a stone's throw of civilisation. I took the requisite photo for my penultimate square along this rather boring track (I might just have been tired at this point so forgive me if you hail from Piddletrenthide and walk along Tallon's Lane regularly).

Tallon's Lane (SY71 99)

I was back in civilisation again after just over five hours. I raced back to my car, just pausing long enough to take my final photo and then sped swiftly home, knowing that if I hadn't had time to reflect on my walk then, I would certainly be able to do so later when writing my blog!

Chestnut Cottage, Piddletrenthide (SY70 99)

Length of walk: 10.9 miles (including about half a mile retracing steps in futile search for lost hat)

Gridsquares covered: 17 (that might be a record!)