The Land of the Fairies - Litton Cheney to Askerswell circular - 11.2 miles, 25th November 2017

This may well be the longest walk I've done for the shortest return! By 'return' I mean how many new gridsquares I gained. It reminds me a little of my 14 mile walk on Islay for the sake of two miles of coastline which I needed to walk to 'join up the gap'. Except that this was a much easier walk and did not involve an overnight stay, otters, gamekeepers and free trout!

Jane was able to join us for the day and what a day it was; my absolutely favourite, the sort which continues to bless us now - cold, frosty, crisp, clear . . . My hips were still a bit achy from my dance, but I wasn't going to let that or anything else bother me today. We wanted to reccy this walk for a group walk in December. It is almost identical to one I did in August when I did bag some new gridsquares. This was a repeat with a small change so I won't include photos of all the gridsquares this time.

We parked on the road by the White Horse which extended the walk a few hundred yards as we walked back to the church with its backdrop of serenely blue sky.

St Mary's Church, Litton Cheney - SY5590

The same photo in the summer has more green, but less blue!

We walked the same route across fields to Long Bredy where we popped into the church for an early cup of tea and were briefly joined by some other ramblers who we discovered had walked down the bridleway on the east side of Long Barrow Hill. They didn't actually say ,"we walked down the bridleway on the east side of Long Barrow Hill." They said, "yes," when Paul asked them if they were the two figures he'd seen walking down that way. Then they said they'd walked past this church many times before, but had never been inside. We agreed it was a beautiful church, but I think it is lamentable that so many people, even walkers, do not pause to visit more historic sites, especially when they're right on their doorstep. I can afford to be smug here, of course, because I always do! "Why aren't we doing that?" Paul questioned when we were back outside. "Doing what?" I queried, "Walking round the other side of the hill," he muttered, craning his head as if to exaggerate his opinion that the other way was bound the better. Honestly, there's no pleasing some people! I promised him we would when we did this walk 'for real' with the group. I'm guilty of the same thing though, always imagining that the grass is greener on the other side; choosing to go down one route and then bemoaning the fact I haven't chosen the other route - a bit like Robert Frost's wonderful poem, The Road Not Taken.

St Peter's Church, Long Bredy - SY5790

There was no cattle in the fields this time as we ascended Long Barrow Hill, for which we were grateful as it is quite a slog up there. Last time I had to go via the more gradual route but my heart was still pounding with fear when I couldn't see the huge bull and wondered if he might just be abot to thunder across the field towards me!

We were walking more or less parallel to  Long Bredy Hut Lane which we'd driven down earlier without realising that was its name. I wonder how it got its name? I googled it, but couldn't find anything out. From here we could see the sea - always an exciting sight!

Shipton Hill from Long Barrow Hill - SY5790

We crossed the busy A35 and went straight down a bridleway, past tumuli and North Barn Farm. We were amused by the electronic gate opening system which invited you to 'Press to Open' but we guessed it was for vehicular use only and opted to use the pedestrian gate instead.

It's a pleasant walk along a farm lane to a crossroads here which threw me momentarily as there was a big digger parked at our crossroads. We managed to get round the digger and onto another path open to all traffic before reaching the minor 'yellow' road at which I'd decided we would turn left and then right to avoid walking up the long straight stretch of road I'd used last time.

This turned out to be a mistake as it was hard going walking through a huge field of flint and we thought it would be inappropriate to bring a large group here so next time we'll just have to put up with the road. The views are amazing though and I realised that, although SY5592 wasn't a new gridsquare for me, I'd somehow failed to get a photo of it last time, so I was going to bag two new squares on this visit. Yippee!

Haydon Down - SY5592

Walking across flinty fields at Haydon Down - SY5592

 We could see across acres of hills and valleys to Golden Cap and the glimmering sea beyond, marred only by that ubiquitous pylonic eyesore. In days of yore this would have been a marvel to behold.

Paul was getting hungry and a little grumpy (the two go together). We promised him an early lunch spot as soon as we could find somewhere suitable to sit. "Yonder barn is our next landmark," I whispered to Jane out of Paul's earshot. "I'm not sure we'll find anywhere out of the wind before then." By the time we reached said barn (Two Gates) we didn't care about being out of the wind; we just wanted our lunch so we chose  seat with a view (not difficult) and munched on cheese rolls and gulped hot tea.

From Two Gates - SY5493

Haydown Down near Two Gates - SY5492

Fortified, we stood up to move onwards, but not upwards, "we're heading downhill!" I cheered, leading the way confidently across the plateau of Haydon Down. It wasn't long before I realised my desire to go downhill had led us prematurely down the wrong side of the hill, or at least we were heading that way. Naturally I quickly realised and bumped us along further left, keen to remain on the bridleway. On the lee side of the hill we found a path which led all the way down to Stancombe Farm and beyond to Naller's Farm. We wondered at how anyone could live this far down in the valley. I'd commented on how, despite the feeling of remoteness here, we had been constantly ale to see and hear traffic throughout our walk thus far. The A35 is never far away, but unless you wanted to get to these farms you'd never know they were there and we wondered what the tracks were like in the winter. I imagine, perhaps wrongly, that folk that live in these farms lead solitary lives, deliberately choosing to be far away from other people, but I suspect I am wrong. I hazard to guess that mostly the farm has been passed down from one generation to the next and there has been little choice in the matter. In days of yore of course the huge acreage covered by just a few farms would have been divided up into many more fields belonging or tenanted by many more farmers. Such were the days of Corncrakes and Skylarks galore, sadly now either gone forever from these corners or in serious decline.

Lane to Stancombe Farm - SY5492

Stancombe Farm - SY492

Fencepost at Stancombe Farm - SY5492

Such was our discussion as we plodded down the lane, glad to now be on more even terra firma. A rustling and movement caught our attention as we walked into the farmyard and a man's head appeared behind some rusty machinery. "We didn't see you there," Jane laughed as we bade the farmer a good morning.  He bade us a silent greeting, almost imperceptibly nodding his head in our  direction, as if to confirm my suspicions that the residents here are self-elected recluses. We hurriedly glanced at the map to decided which footpath we needed to be on, feeling the glare of the farmer who probably wasn't used to seeing many walkers in his farmyard. One track leads south to the A35 which is obviously the most direct (and probably only) road to Stancombe Farm. "We're heading west," I declared, explaining that my route had an almost phallic appearance drawn out on the Ordnance Survey map and that we were 'now leaving the phallus', "but entering the new gridsquare," I said, injecting as much excitement as I possibly could into my voice in the hope of it brushing off onto my fellow walkers. They didn't seem as excited as I'd hoped, but then I'm used to that!

It took us a bit longer than necessary to get to Naller's Farm on account of all the interesting rusting machinery left lying about and the splendid examples of strip lynchets now languishing in November apricity, sadly redundant.

Walking towards Naller's Farm - SY5492

Strip lynchets at Naller's Farm - SY5492

Strip lynchets at Naller's Farm - SY5492

Rusty wheel at Naller's Farm - SY5492

Really, there is a lot to be seen and admired here and it is sad that probably very few feet wander this far into contour lines to do so. On guard duty at Naller's Farm were some rather scary stone creatures on the wall.

Gargoyle guards at Naller's Farm - SY5492

We then crossed a spring, a magical spring appearing from nowhere and disappearing into the hills, frequented no doubt by fairies and elfin creatures as we were evidently in their territory.

Fairy spring at Naller's Farm - SY5492

Here also be hedge layers and more relics of days gone by.

Hedge laying at Naller's Farm - SY5492

Left to rust - SY5492

We were now not far from Askerswell and passed fields with horses. I took photos of all of them in case one belonged to our friend who keeps her horse here. I tried calling its name but there was no response, although my call was a bit feeble as I was a little fearful of calling too loud in case Magic came galloping across the field towards us!

Horses at Askerswell - SY5392

My offer of another stop at Askerswell Church was rejected on the grounds of it getting late and we were only just going to make it back before dark as it was. So we plodded on through this delightful village, pausing only to ponder the logic behind a weird crossroads where one road abruptly ends.

Confusing junction at Askerswell - SY5392

 I couldn't resist photographing some skeletal trees and admired the inosculation between branches of one particular tree.

Inosculation at Askerswell - SY5392

Trees at Askerswell - SY5392

We now had to negotiate a little bit of bog and probably the most unpleasant part of the walk - a steep climb to the A35. "But it's quickly over," I promised as we headed towards the traffic's deafening roar. There is no lead up to this 'mare' (Paul's son's term for 'nightmare'); you puff and pant your way up several contours to meet the ugly grey crash barrier, teeter on the side of the hill whilst waiting for a break in the traffic sufficient to get you half way across and then stand tall with your high vis jacket on waiting to sprint across the second half of the death-defying A35. If that hasn't put you offf this walk, nothing will!

Immediately on the other side you are rewarded with more glorious views. You can now ascend if you wish to Chilcombe Hill Fort and don imaginary weaponry and clothing of Iron Age times. We didn't, being well and truly in the present moment, muddy step by muddy step and bramble by bramble as we squelched our way through the thickest mud of the walk yet. I reminded my companions that 'this was nothing' compared to the mud of my walk only two days before. Eventually I had to concede it was in fact 'something' and enough to warrant revising the route, albeit only ever so slightly, in order to avoid the mud.

From Chilcombe Hill - SY5292

Shipton Hill and tumuli - SY5292

Cloudscape over Shipton Hill - SY5291

Finding the road into the hamlet of Chilcombe, we marched on past a sign inviting visitors to 'please park here' although the rest of the sign is now illegible. Fairies at work again?

Please Park Here, Chilcombe - SY5291

We descended into civilisation and the 12th Century as we paused to enter diminutive Chilcombe Church, one of my favourites. Apparently it never was any bigger, the community never having either diminished or grown over the years, though the churchyard once extended more visibly.

Chilcombe Church - SY5491

 There are always free range hens strutting around here which are a delight to see and the churchyard gate is consequently always left open.

Free-range Chilcombe hen - SY5491

We continued now without stopping back to Litton Cheney, still admiring the views and marvelling at our wonderful walk. We opted to take the footpath to the pub across the fields which has probably been in use for hundreds of years. At the White Horse we joined the vociferous locals by the fire and raised a cup of tea in celebration of a fabulous walk.

Number of new gridsquares: 2

Number of miles:11.2

Number of churches: 4

Number of contours: innumerable