Lorna
did say she wanted a long walk and I did warn both her and Paul that, despite careful calculations, my last walk had magically grown from being 11.4 miles (at planning stage) to 13.5 (in reality). So they were prepared and my conscience is salved.
The walk looked rectangular on the map and we started in the delightful village of Shipton Gorge, where we were told we could park at the church ("as long as you park tidily.")
|
Sheep at Shipton Gorge (Lorna's photo - taken whilst she was waiting for us to get ready!) SY4991 |
|
Shipton Gorge village (SY4991) |
|
St Martin's Church, Shipton Gorge (SY4991) |
I was quite excited about finally climbing Shipton Hill, having often viewed it from all angles in the past. It is not a high hill (170 m, 588 feet); naturally it has a trig point, and it is a prominent hill which makes it all the more inviting to climb. So off we went to the summit, wishing just a little bit, that it was a brighter day for better views.
|
Shipton Hill from the village |
|
Leaving Shipton Gorge and starting our ascent (SY5091) |
|
Shipton Hill (SY5092) |
We briefly entered SY5192 and walked past a settlement on our way to Hammiton Wood (SY5191).
|
Settlement, Shipton Hill (SY5192) |
|
Hammiton Wood (SY5191) |
We did not know it yet but this walk would turn out to be the muddiest walk we had yet attempted. At this point we were just getting a taster for the mud! (I'd warned Lorna about the mud as well and we'd even thought to bring a spare pair of shoes - mine- for her to wear when we went for the much-anticipated pub meal later.)
We were following a tributary of the River Bride throughout our walk and seeing a variety of small birds - Chaffinch, Wren, Robin, Long-tailed Tit, Blue Tit and Great Tit. We saw both woodpeckers as well today, which is unusual - Great-spotted and Green and were pleased to see the Rooks building their nests. They are ahead of our own Rooks in East Coker who have only just started building as I write.
We were on our way to Chilcombe through one more pretty featureless (and muddy) gridsquare - SY5291.
|
Sturthill (SY5291) |
|
Lorna's photo: Muddy field near Chilcombe - where we were glad of the spare shoes! (SY5291) |
At Chilcombe we found our way through the hamlet to the church, where we found a clutch of chickens wandering freely in the tiny churchyard. Apparently the tiny churchyard used to be larger than it is today (we know this because bones have been found outwith the churchyard). The church too is tiny (built originally for a congregation of about 40) and undedicated. It must be unusual for a church to be undedicated - could they really not think of anyone worthy?! The tiny congregation was further diminished when it lost its clergy in the Black Death.
The church was open so we went in. There is a lovely oak 'armchair' made in 1642 to commemorate Robert Bishop who once owned Chilcombe Manor. We sat in the porch with our lunch and were not disturbed by chickens or humans.
|
Chilcombe (SY5290) |
|
Chilcombe Church (SY5291) |
|
Chickens in the churchyard |
|
Oak 'armchair', Chilcombe Church |
We had one more gridsquare to walk through heading east before turning south.
|
Bridge over River Bride tributary (SY5390) |
Even when we did finally head south, no-one was convinced that we were heading seawards. It just didn't feel right and it took quite a bit of my persuading words (and showing them my GPS) to convince Paul and Lorna that we were heading south.
|
Bridge over the River Bride near Four Meads Farm (SY5389) |
I was disappointed not to be going past the delightfully-named Golly Knapp Farm. Instead we turned westwards on the road and turned southwards (really?) again at West Mill Farm. At Puncknowle (pronounced Punnel) we joined a path that Paul and I had walked on before with the Dorset walkers (albeit in the other direction and we didn't realise it at the time!) Major-General Henry Shrapnel (1761-1842), once lived in the Manor House in this village. He developed a fragmentation bomb used in the Crimean War and his name survives as the word describing the injurious fall-out from bombs.
|
Wesleyan Chapel, Puncknowle (SY5388) |
Less than a mile almost directly westwards of Puncknowle is Swyre. Now I admit the place does not have a nice name (I think of 'swear', 'swine' and 'sire'), but in my opinion it is more attractive than Puncknowle, though we did not have time nor energy to explore - not even to enter the churchyard and look for the benchmark! (And that's saying something!)
|
Swyre (SY5288) |
We'd intended looking for the ancient cross which is marked on the map here, but forgot and then couldn't be bothered to return. I haven't been able to find out anything about it online though, so maybe there's just a tiny remnant left. We were dead set now on reaching the sea but had lots more mud to negotiate first. Once through that, Lorna started getting excited about reaching the coast and her enthusiasm waned only ever so slightly when she discovered that the vast brown expanse stretching out before her was not sand, but tiny pebbles - "eight miles of it!" we told her, being quick to add that we weren't walking all eight miles!
|
South to the coast (SY5287) |
Upon arriving at the beach with boots weighed down with sticky clay, it didn't take long for them to resemble a cake sprinkled with sugary 100s and 1000s!
|
My 100s and 1000s boots! |
Despite our depleting energy levels, we were keen to walk as close to the sea as possible and do a bit of beach combing. We found some pretty coral/seaweed/wood (not sure which!) and lots of Slipper Limpets. Lorna found a Velvet Crab shell which of course she took away with her and then regretted it because it ended up crumpled in her rucsack - no, wait - it was
my rucsack - ergh!
|
Chesil Beach (SY5187) |
Amost SNAP!
|
Chesil Beach (SY5087) |
Our decision to follow the tideline was a mistake as we had to detour round the fishermen's lines. We only did this once and then headed up the beach where eventually, after about a mile of weary stone-crushing, we found an easier footpath. Yes, I know we are wimps. I'm used to the deliciously squelchy sphagnum deserted peat bogs of Islay. They made for hard walking too - and I never found my boots were as dirty when I got home!
|
Back on the proper path (SY5088) |
|
Footpath to Burton Bradstock (SY5088) |
We were nearing Burton Bradstock now, home of smuggling at one time. I've often thought how we have romanticised this illicit pastime. We all love stories of historical smuggling, but no-one I know of condones modern day smuggling!
|
Lorna's photo; Approaching Burton Bradstock (SY4988) |
|
WWII Pill box, near Burton Bradstock (SY4988) |
After a brief stop at the Hive Beach cafe toilets at BB, we joined a path Paul and I had walked between Christmas and New Year. (Note to walkers - you dn't have to use the cafe to use the toilets, which is unusual - and great! :), but the facilities are only open during cafe opening hours.)
|
Burton Bradstock (SY4889) |
We crossed the road into Burton Bradstock, which is another very attractive Dorset village (despite all those erstwhile smuggling 'baddies'). Here the River Bride flows in a torrent (well, a torrent compared to its paltry tributaries). We looked unsuccessfully for Dippers as we still haven't seen our first Dorset Dipper.
|
River Bride at Burton Bradstock (SY4989) |
We were heading north-eastwards out of the village, past the mill.
|
Burton Bradstock (SY4889)
|
|
The Mill, Burton Bradstock (SY49890 |
It was pleasant walking beside the River for a while, but we soon headed northwards, sadly missing Peacehaven Farm (for I felt in need of a dollop of peace). Naturally our last footpath was going to be a muddy one - I kept telling Paul not to bother washing his boots in every piddling little stream we came across - "they're bound to get muddy again!" I insisted.
|
Muddy footpath north of Burton Bradstock (SY4990) |
Despite looking we could see no evidence of a cross to give St Catherine's Cross its name, so we trudged onward and upward, pausing to admire the setting sun as we crossed our final bridge before returning to our tidily parked car at Shipton Gorge.
|
Lorna's photo: Setting sun, Burton Bradstock (SY4990) |