Trudge in the sludge - Maiden Newton to Sydling St Nicholas - 3rd March

After the deluge of snow that fell on Thursday afternoon which sent everyone scurrying indoors for cover, and after a day of sledging and walking locally on Friday, we woke up to the great thaw on Saturday and decided it was time to try the car.

"Let's walk to Sydling St Nicholas from Maiden Newton," said Paul eagerly. Of course that warranted a consultation with my map and Geograph, which confirmed in fact that, despite several walks between these two places, I hadn't  photographed all the gridsquares. That would have to be rectified.

Now, I'm not sure what has happened in our household, but I'm finding it unnerving that our routine has been reversed. Recently it has gone from me always being the first to be ready to Paul being the first to be ready. And I blame that disconcerting turn of events for my forgetting my phone (and thus the map) as we drove off into the already melting snow. By the time I realised I was without it, we were approaching Crewkerne Station. I immediately indicated and turned left into the station thinking I'd do a U-turn there to go back to collect my phone. But that was not to be, at least it was not to be without Paul getting out to push as the car skidded on the remnant of ice and snow at the top of the hill there.

With the phone and map now in my pocket, we set off once again and without further incident (except for some oohing and ahhing at the snow drifts on Toller Down) we arrived and Parked on Chilfrome Lane in Maiden Newton.

It was already raining when we set off along the disused railway track and past the Dragon's Teeth.

Dragon's Teeth, disused railway line, Maiden Newton - SY5998

We missed the Wessex Ridgeway turn off first time round and back tracked to find it. This is an attractive path beside the River Frome which we hadn't walked along before and it emerges at the church.

Wessex Ridgeway by the River Frome, Maiden Newton - SY5998

St Mary's Church, Maiden Newton - SY5998

Of the church itself a lot could be said; I spent a long time photographing an ancient door there, this being the principle reason for our detour. I've been to Maiden Newton many times and never been inside the church. It's always a little too far off the path. "I know it's a detour, but we're definitely doing it today," I'd insisted when Paul had looked at the map and noticed that there was a quicker way to get to the path we wanted. "Don't forget it's got the oldest door in the world," I added as it this was an incentive, "Or is it Britain? Perhaps just England, or maybe Dorset. I can't remember which," I admitted as we opened the huge door and tiptoed our way into the church.

I couldn't help feeling disappointed as soon as we entered. "It might have the oldest door in the world," I whispered to Paul, "but it's got the most modern chairs!" "And lighting system," Paul added as he tried to follow some printed instructions on how to use these tiny buttons to switch on the lights. If he couldn't easily fathom it, there was no hope for an octogenarian giant.

I'm going to save photos of the church for a future date - the reason? Turns out after spending ages photographing the door of the church, I realised afterwards I'd photographed the wrong door! I also had difficulty in definitely seeing the bullet hole that was mentioned from the Civil War. So another visit is called for!

We left the church and finally felt we were embarking on our walk proper. We went under the railway and photographed a huge icicle that had formed on the tunnel wall.

Gate on Break Heart Hill - SY6198

Stile and footpath on Break Heart Hill - SY6199

We then started our descent proper into Sydling St Nicholas. We were beginning to feel in need of a hot cup of tea, but there really wasn't anywhere suitable to sit, so we decided to wait until we reached the village and have an early lunch there and then a drink in the pub.

Descending to Sydling St Nicholas - SY6299

 After warming up, eating our lunch and learning about Sydling's very own millenium capsule buried beneath the church floor to be opened by future generations, we left the comfort of St Nicholas' Church and wandered into the village. Immediately my visions of a picturesque snowy scene were shattered as the streets were almost bereft of snow and looked quite drab and dreary. Not that this village can ever really be ugly; I just had pictured it white and crisp and calling out to be photographed. Perhaps another time. We were glad of a drink in The Greyhound where the bar tender chatted away to us and invited us to take off our boots and warm our feet by the fire whilst we drank our hot chocolate/beer. We managed to resist the temptation (twice) of looking at the menu and were quite relieved that the central heating had broken as it would have been even more difficult to resist the menu and get up to leave. I wish all bar tenders were this friendly and accommodating. He said because he lived in the village he had been obliged to work the past couple of days otherwise the village, like many other places locally, would have been inaccessible.

Reluctantly we re-donned our boots and headed out again. We had decided to revise the route slightly in order to shorten it a bit. Paul had already tentatively asked me if I'd taken into account the difficulty of walking in snow when I had devised the route. "Yep,"I'd replied confidently. "It's just under 7 miles. That takes into account the steepness of the route and the snow difficulty." Paul knows me well though, and knows that my seven miles could easily stretch by another couple of miles and it was a good thing we chose a different route for our return path.

Sweet Chestnut tree at Sydling Cross - note the way the moss has covered the northern side of the trunk - a useful navigation aid - SY6399

We walked by the Sydling Water for a bit, trying to visualise it in the spring when I'd just read that the annual duck race will take place - something they do at Easter time at Bridgend on Islay. It was hard to imagine spring now with the many patches of snow still visible (I know I said earlier that the village was bereft of snow, but that was for dramatic effect because I like the word 'bereft'.)

By Sydling sewage works - SY6398

Beyond the watercress beds we turned right onto a path we'd not walked along before. This was Hog Cliff National Nature Reserve, a Natural England nature reserve which we had not heard of before.

Hog Cliff National Nature Reserve - SY6398

It was hard to imagine on a day like today, but there are hopefully hundreds of tiny Marsh Fritillary caterpillars hibernating under the protection of vegetation on this Reserve. This area of chalk downland is good habitat for this, and other rare butterflies like the Adonis Blue. We would have to return in the late spring to explore some more. There are so many parts of Dorset even now that I have not explored, despite having walked in over a half of the gridsquares of west Dorset.

We were not alone on the nature reserve today. A hungry flock of sheep spotted us and our rucksacks from afar and ran as fast as their cold little four feet would carry them in our direction to bleat and baa as loudly as they could muster. It's unusual for sheep to get this close and we felt so sorry for them, but we really could do no more than utter an apology in sheep language and keep walking They kept following and bleating pathetically. We kept walking. They kept following and so it continued to the top of the hill. At least it took our minds off the climb.

Sheep on Hog Cliff  National Nature Reserve - SY6298

There is no footpath shown on the map through Park Coppice, but this is open access land and there was a stile into the woods and we thought it might be less snowy in there. We thought wrong!

Park Coppice - SY6297

Again this would be a lovely walk in spring with all the spring birds calling and possibly a carpet of bluebells covering the woodland floor. We vowed to return. For now we made do with badger footprints in the snow.

Badger prints in Park Coppice - SY6297

"Watch out for badger sets!" I exhorted Paul as we walked past several large and hidden holes in the snow. It was hard enough walking through the snow as it was without having to worry about falling down a hole.

There is no obvious gate at the other end of the woodland so we had to climb over a barbed wire fence (rather than retrace our treacherous steps). We were now on South Field Hill and scared a couple of Roe Deer does, their white powder puff behinds bobbing elegantly along in front of us.

Deer prints near Park Coppice - SY6297

We passed a half building and couldn't decide if it was a ruin or something in the middle of construction. There were no tell tale signs either way.

Building at South Field Hill - SY6297

Back at the main road for some reason I thought we had to turn right. So we did. Paul following me meekly like one of those sheep and not questioning my decision. After all, I had the map, right? Wrong! At least he was wrong to follow me so unquestioningly. "How far do we have to walk along this road?" Paul shouted to be heard above the din of the oncoming traffic. It was with a sinking heart that I consulted my phone map and announced that we had to turn around. Thankfully we hadn't gone far at all, but any distance is too far along that road. Traffic seldom slows down or manouevres for pedestrians on any road, and it is more important than ever on an A road like this one. Not that we ever deliberately walk along such roads, but there should always be a right of way provided on both sides of the road. Otherwise what's the point?

Back on track, we took a bridleway at Farm Hill Bottom, land which is still managed by Natural England as Hog Cliff Nature Reserve. We were glad to now be going down hill.

Descending Farm Hill Bottom - SY6197

Sheep at Farm Hill Bottom - SY6197

We joined the sheep but were unmolested this time as we navigated our way along the hidden footpath. We were now climbing again, past Parson's Coppice to Fore Hill and the edge of Langcombe Bottom.We managed to take a short cut here by crossing a field diagonally. This saved us passing a herd of cows huddled by our exit and just under a quarter of a mile in distance. Not bad, eh?

Parson's Coppice - SY6197

Fore Hill - SY6097

Rabbit prints - SY6097

Again the snow drifts here were very high - as high as the hedge and we played 'I'm the King of the Castle' here for a while, juveniles that we are! Our snow angels did not work out very well though - and that's something we can't repeat in a hurry!

I was now in my final gridsquare of the day and took a photograph of Maiden newton as we descended into the village.

Maiden Newton from the east - SY6097

Fox prints - SY6097

 Children had gathered with their sledges on these slopes to eke out the remaining snow. We went to look at a pill box we'd never seen before (and to try and find our footpath).

WW2 pill box, Maiden Newton - SY6097

Pheasant's footprints - SY6097

The footpath across the railway line seemed to have disappeared so we returned to where we'd started, underneath the railway tunnel, where the icicle was melting fast. Would we make it back to the car before it had all dripped away like the sand in an hour glass?


Number of new gridsquares: 8 (surprisingly)
Number of miles walked: 7.25
Number of times we resisted taking a look at a menu: 2
Number of animal prints we saw in the snow: 5

East Fleet via Langton Herring

We were looking for an easier option today as Paul's back is not recovered yet from his injury on holiday (bending down to lift my suitcase!) I had visited East Fleet before and was keen to see if we could make a decent walk of it for the Dorset Walkers. Our plans were thwarted immediately by a temporary sign on the gatepost of the new Fleet church which kindly asked no-one to park there as there was a wedding there today. We parked on the road instead which added a total of a quarter of a mile to our walk.

Having seen the old church at Fleet before, I decided we'd 'save the best till last' and go inland first, retracing my steps of a previous walk in April. We headed north-east from the church at Fleet and crossed the B3157. We then headed north towards Higher Barn where we sat with our lunch on upturned buckets, sheltering from the rain. All day we donned light rain jackets, only to take them off minutes later because the rain had stopped and we were too hot. I much prefer a heavy, know-where-you-stand downpour where you can wear your waterproofs all the time and have the satisfaction of taking them off and getting muddy fingers at the end. OK, so maybe I don't 'much' prefer it, but there is a certain certainty about that situation. Showers lend themselves well to photography, on the other hand, or can do if the scenery and cloud landscape permits.

We assumed the footpath had been diverted just after Tatton Coppice because the signs ran out and we ended up taking a longer route. Looking at the newer map when we got back, we realised the path hadn't been diverted; there just weren't the right signs in the right place - grrrhhh! We managed to get out onto the road at Langton Cross, but it involved doubling back on ourselves for a tiny bit - another reason the walk was longer than my predicted 6.5 miles!

Somehow we managed to miss the Mediaeval Cross at Langton Cross, but we did spot a Butterfly Orchid which someone had fenced round.

Greater Butterfly Orchid at Langton Cross

We passed a circular building  in a field which I later found out used to be a lime kiln; there are, or were, a few in this area.

Lime kiln near Langton Herring - SY6282

We had walked through Langton Herring before. It is a very attractive village which has a sign announcing it is 'doubly thankful'. After some research I discovered the meaning of the sign. Apparently Langton Herring is one of 13 villages in England and Wales which did not lose a single man in either the First or Second World War.

Bus stop at Langton Herring - SY6182

It has also got a very nice pub, The Elm Tree, where we sat in the garden with a drink to gather strength for the next part of the walk.

At the church we learnt a sad story. In 1830 four young boys, aged between 6 and 8 were playing at the village lime kiln when they were overcome by fumes from the kiln and were killed. They are all buried in the church graveyard.

Grave to four boys at Langton Herring churchyard - SY6182

We were now walking south towards the coast and I was suddenly glad we'd saved this bit till last. I think it's a good policy to employ; just when your energy is waning and you need something to keep you distracted, there is the Fleet lagoon.

The Fleet from near Langton Herring - SY6181

I was very pleased to hear and see the Corn Bunting, a bird we had seen and heard on South Uist, but one I've only seen once before in Dorset. Its call is quite distinctive, a bit like rattling keys, and it alerted me to its presence. This photo is from our holiday in South Uist, so I'm cheating a bit.

Corn Bunting

We joined the South-west coast path and continued to Gore Cove, right at the edge of the Fleet.

Gore Cove and the south-west coast path - SY6180

We passed the curious Moonfleet Manor Hotel, named no doubt after J Meade Falkner's children's novel set in this area. It seems to be a mish-mash of architectural design, with some strange castellations, but the eastern most part of the building looked quite attractive.

We passed briefly through SY6280 and I photographed what used to be a pit for extracting minerals, but is now barely discernible as such.

SY6280 - pit for extracting minerals

There were two pill boxes in the next gridsquare, both different types - one circular and one octagonal. It is still possible to enter the rectangular one, and probably the circular one too, but we didn't attempt that (not with Paul's back!)

Type 22 Second World War pill box on The Fleet - SY6279

Type 25 Second World War pill box on The Fleet - SY6279

The Fleet is a nature reserve, but other than the Corn Bunting, Mute Swan and Cormorant, we didn't see many birds. We did see seven species of butterflies, however - Painted Lady, Small Tortoiseshell, Meadow Brown, Large White, Red Admiral. Large Skipper and Speckled Wood.

There was just one more gridsquare to photograph before we reached East Fleet and there was no question of the subect for my photograph. Who can resist photographing a bay with the name of Butterstreet Cove? Butter Street is the name of what appears to be the only street in East Fleet. Most of the village was washed away in the great storm of November 1824, as was the church. All that is left standing now is the chancel, the nave having been completely washed away.

Butterstreet Cove - SY6379

East Fleet old church - SY6380

We sat on a bench at the church and drank the last of our tea from our flask and then plodded our weary way back along the road to the car.

Trigpoints - 0 (one narrowly missed)
Miles - 7.9
Churches - 3
Mediaeval crosses - 1 (even though we missed it)
Cups of tea (3 for me; 2 for Paul)
Pints of beer - 1 (Paul)
Gridsquares - 6 new