There is such a thing as too much mud! - Symondsbury to Salway Ash (broadly speaking) - 23rd November

There is such a thing as too much mud and too much dancing, whilst at the same time there is such a thing as not enough footpaths or signs. And, I discovered, one can definitely tire of walking through fields, even when one does lift one's head every few steps to discover when the mud has cleared from the eyes that there is a beautiful view after all. So here I go with a walk that I would not recommend is ever repeated in the history of time until Dorset Rights of Way have solved the seven issues which I raised with them.

I awoke to discover that my hips had definitely not recovered from the excessive amount of dancing I'd participated in the night before at the Skerryvore Concert. It was an excellent concert and when they encouraged would-be Strictly Come Dancing contestants to 'dance anywhere that was safe' in a bid to win a T-shirt, I made my way down to the front, having consumed the Dutch Courage of precisely one G and T. Paul's derriere remained glued to his seat; I've learned it's not worth trying to coax him. Hours later (well, maybe about ten minutes) I returned to my seat exhausted. At the interval I could barely move. I hadn't won the T-shirt and my hips were crying out in pain and continued to be like that for much of this walk. So bear that in mind all ye hundreds of readers as I will try not to go on about it too much hereafter!

I parked at Symondsbury and went to investigate the church.

St John the Baptist Church, Symondsbury - SY4493

Staircase in St John the Baptist Church, Symondsbury - SY4493

The church had an unusual staircase which perhaps leads to the bell tower, but one would need a ladder to access the staircase!

I proceeded eastwards and then turned north up Broadoak Road.

Broadoak Road, SY4494

Fortunately not a lot of traffic passed me until I reached my exit onto the Monarch's Way towards Bilshay Farm.

Monarch's Way near Symondsbury - SY4494

Probably the nicest thing about this otherwise quite disastrous walk was that Colmer's Hill stood out like a beacon throughout it all. I've never viewed it with quite such fondness as I did today. Just as I began to think the whole world was against me, lo and behold, there was Colmer's Hill beckoning me back to my starting point, keeping me grounded - most of the time quite squelchingly literally!

Friendly Colmer's Hill from the Monarch's Way - SY4494

Things started going wrong when I couldn't find the footpath to Glebe Withy Bed through the Ebb Plantation. I carried on along the Monarch's Way thinking I'd take the next turning northwards just before Bilshay Farm, and so phew, that one was solved quite easily, although there is a dearth of signage around leaving you wondering if you're on the right path despite having Memory Map on my phone which I was constantly referring to. I'll say now that this can be quite a hazard if you need two hands free to cling for dear life onto pathside branches or to avoid dropping said mobile into thigh deep mud. It was a necessary evil today, however, for reasons to which I've already alluded.

Relieved to be back on a path I took a photo of the gate leading into Glebe Withy Bed.

Towards Glebe Withy Bed - SY4495

Glebe Withy Bed and Ebb Plantation - SY4495

A lonely ruined barn called out for a photo just before exiting this square. I was probably at my happiest at this point, my hip pain was beginning to wear off, the sun was shining and I was on a definite footpath. My false sense of security did not last long.

Barn roof  at Glebe Withy Beds - SY4495

I bypassed Moorbath and, catching sight of the church at Broadoak decided to wait for my morning tea break. Then decided against it when I saw a fallen tree trunk in the field which made an ideal place to rest. I'm glad I did as my logic proved accurate - the church was locked and there was nowhere to sit. I would have become even more grumpy had I waited for another mile.

Fields near Broadoak - SY4395

Approaching Broadoak - SY4395

Footsteps surprised me as I approached the hamlet of Broadoak. Their four-hoofed owner came out to greet me and I stepped quickly into the horse's enclosure and back out onto the minor road which runs through this pretty hamlet. There, I used a complimentary adjective in my otherwise rather derogatory description of this walk and this rather delightful part of Dorset. (Oops, another compliment just slipped out!)

Red Cottage, Broadoak - SY4496

I walked beneath the pylons and entered the world of Broadoak at Red Cottage. I snapped a photo quickly as I was only going to be in this gridsquare for five minutes. Or so I thought. As it happened, I was in this gridsquare for about an hour of my life which I shall probably never forget but wish I could!

An elderly gentleman with a wheelbarrow full of firewood crossed the quiet road in front of me and looked my way quizzically. He was a bit too far away to bid him good morning, so I smiled and continued walking as he watched me. I imagine there's not too many walkers come this way.

Eager to reach the church I climbed the steps and turned the handle. Locked. Where was that little man with the firewood? Perhaps he knew who had the key. I bade good morning to some horse riders and then left the church behind me heading north to Filford.

St Paul's Church, Broadoak - SY4396

The hamlet of Broadoak from St Paul's Church - SY4396

This is where things began to go seriously wrong. I was fine on the lane which led to Filford Farm, well fine-ish. It was a pleasant lane and so what if the footpath left had disappeared? I was walking on a veritable lane and avoiding gratuitous mud! Yippee! An added bonus when I checked my phone was that I was entering a square I wouldn't otherwise have entered. Boy was this day getting better and I do believe my hips are loosening up a bit too! As it turned out, I'd already photographed the square once and would be in it for ages again - it was that same SY4496 again! Great lighting though!

When I thought I hadn't already photographed this square - SY4496

I photographed Filford Farm as I approached, looking for the marked footpath right. OK, so it wasn't there. Don't panic, walk towards the farm, be aware that there is probably going to be at the very least a mad dog to contend with if not a herd of cattle on their way to/from milking and, at worst, a bull amongst them. But keep your head up, Becky, things could be worse. It could be pouring with rain.

Filford Farm - SY4397

I manoeuvred through the farmyard without being hassled by man, dog, cow or bull. A white van slowed down as it approached the farm and I thought the driver might enquire as to my direction of travel as I'm pretty sure I looked quite helpless at this point, but he simply waved and smiled and I chose to follow him round the back of the farmhouse and hey, there's the path! OK, so there's not a sign and it looks as if it's not been walked in decades, but it's definitely a path.

I got a little confused at the end of the path and crossed the stream and then realised that, despite the lack of any signs, the path I wanted headed east. I had now reached my most northerly point. I headed east and followed the boundary of the field. A mad dog came out to greet me but his sprint was thwarted by the presence of a gate, which I was sure it could limbo under, but was relieved it didn't. No-one seemed to call it back. Glad I hadn't got to enter the dog's territory, I continued blithely on my way until I realised that I should have gone the dog's way after all. I needed to cross the stream and that was the only way to do so. No, surely I could find another way. I retraced my steps a couple of times struggling with indecision and reluctance to meet the dog face to face. Eventually I relented and returned to the dog scene, which was also the scene of an electric fence and no footpath sign. I made absolutely certain I was on the path before scrambling under the electric fence to the sound of the mad dog behind me and the owner calling it back. Perhaps the owner would come and say hello and let me know I was heading in the right direction? No such luck. Never mind, I was back in the saddle again, or at least on the footpath.

My exultation lasted for exactly 708 feet. I measured it on the map. That's how long I managed to plough through wet fields before I was thwarted again not just by an electric fence and barbed wire, which I scrambled underneath, but by a footpath so overgrown with brambles and thickets that there was absolutely no way I could access it. Confused, I checked, double and triple checked my phone and looked for an alternative route. There was none. The lane I was on led into the middle of a field and not towards Strongate Farm but there was absolutely no alternative. This was definitely the lowest point of the walk, but one simply can't sit down and cry, one because there's nowhere to sit down unless you don't mind sitting in cow dung and puddles and two because that would just delay you even further.

I tight-roped walked between the electric fence and the cow dung until I reached the end of the lane and my suspicions were confirmed. I was in the middle of a field with not a soul in sight and surrounded by several exits, all of which were inches deep in either water, mud or slurry or a combination of all three and bordered by brambles and blackthorn. Tentatively I put my foot forward and sank in several inches of  delightful squelchy stuff. "Not that way then," I said aloud. I was saying a lot of things aloud at this point, in fact throughout the walk. Not all bad by the way, sometimes I was praying too.

Realising I needed to head left I continued to look for an exit route but there was a stream between me and the path I wanted to be on and there was no way I was retracing my steps and there was no way I was going through the squelchy stuff, so I had to plod on in the full knowledge that I wasn't on a footpath, but at least I was in a field and I could see wonderful Colmer's Hill looking not too distant ahead of me.

Eventually I realised I could walk to Bidlake Farm and join a footpath there. Please God may there be a footpath there. I really didn't know what I'd do if there wasn't. Thankfully there was with a little bridge spanning the little stream. I was tempted to sit with my lunch here after the ordeal I'd been through, but didn't like stopping in full view of the farm and wanted to put some more distance between myself and the ordeal. Now I was on a footpath I was positively floating with the joy of it all. Oops, mustn't forget a photo, surely I'm out of SY4496 now! Would you believe it, I wasn't! I still took a photo though, for memory's sake!

Bidlake Farm - SY4496

In all my confusion, I'd spotted a church on a hill and for a moment thought I'd walked further than  I had and that I was looking back at St Paul's in Broadoak as I wasn't aware of any other churches nearby. Perhaps there was one at Salway Ash after all? I thought I'd scrutinised the map and decided there wasn't. When I got home and researched it, I discovered there is in fact a church here. So that's another one I need to return to. I won't be in a rush to do that!

Thankful to be on a footpath I debated with myself whether I should go to the village of Salway Ash and look for the church I had seen. It meant a bit of gratuitous walking, but I decided I'd do it. When I reached Hill Farm, however and couldn't get through the gate because of the trailer parked so close on the other side I all but gave up. But no, there shouldn't be a trailer parked by a footpath, I'd force my way through. Which I did, turned the corner and saw a hill ahead of me. Which is when I lost the will to go on and turned back without so much as a moment's deliberation. Back past that trailer and down the hill where I stopped to take in the view and gaze longingly at Colmer's Hill which still seemed a long way off.

Hill Farm and the barred gate - SY4596

South from Hill Farm - SY4596

Colmer's Hill in the distance - SY4596

 I determined  I would have my lunch as soon as I'd got past Broadenham Farm. Never sit for lunch when there's a uphill climb immediately afterwards. It's always better to climb the hill  and then sit for lunch. As I reached the top of the hill, however, I also turned southwards and straight into the wind. Never mind, I was on a footpath, oh joy! And the views were amazing, so I sat on the grass and wished Matthew a happy birthday on Facebook and relished my delicious lunch before getting up and starting all over again with the stiff feeling and pain. Now I know how Paul feels every time he goes for one of my long walks!

I reached the minor road and turned left and then right to Colly Farm where a lovely Shepherd's Hut/Romany Gypsy caravan took my eye. Colly Farm offers bed and breakfast and is situated in a lovely location above the River Simene.

Shepherd's Hut at Colly Farm - SY4595

Colly Farm - SY4595

At last I was back in the world of footpath signs and a flock of sheep greeted me as I entered their world and walked joyously through a relatively unmuddy field towards Bilshay Farm.

The Simene Valley at Colly Farm - SY4595

Sheep at Colly Farm - SY4595

Lovely old gate fastener at Colly Farm - SY4595

Bilshay Farm - SY4594

At Bilshay Farm I enquired of the farmer as to the whereabouts of the footpath as, once again it wasn't signed. He was friendly enough and pointed me in the right direction, saying I could go either way to reach the road. I couldn't work that out at the time, but did once I emerged on said road. I was back on the Monarch's Way, albeit briefly before I turned off towards Waddon Barn.

Waddon Barn - SY4594

I walked round the perimeter of perhaps the biggest field of turnips I've ever seen, complete with sheep munching their way happily through them.

Sheep and turnips at Waddon Barn - SY4594

I knew I was on the homeward stretch now but didn't dare look at the map to discover how far I'd still got to go. I made myself only look to check I was heading in the right direction. I just couldn't have borne any more disasters at this stage. For reassurance I glanced towards Colmers Hill, now just west of me.

Colmer's Hill from Allington - SY4594

The holloway leading into Allington deserved some more lingering time, but I was too weary. I celebrated two particular trees however which seemed to be reaching out to each other across the path.

Holloway and two trees at Allington - SY4593

My southwards journey over, I headed west, entering Allington Hill nature reserve. I'd looked at this on the map many times before and wanted to go. It wasn't the best time of year and I was tired and not in the best frame of mind to explore, so I saw little as I plodded onwards.

Allington Hill Nature Reserve - SY4593

It was still not plain sailing as I crossed another large field towards Symondsbury, walked past the sheepwash again and got back to my car just before the school came out. I'd arrived this morning to the energetic sounds of school children in the school yard. Could that really only have been this morning? It felt like a lifetime of mud and water away! If  I didn't hurry now I'd get stuck in the school traffic. Without further ado or reflection I hurriedly changed out of my dirty boots and slipped on my trainers and made my escape into the sunset.

Number of times I wish I'd never started this walk: Innumerable
Number of miles walked : 9.5
Number of new gridsquares: 11
Number of times I photographed the same gridsquare unknowingly: 3
Number of footpath faults reported to Dorset Rights of Way Team: 7

Following the River Frome - Stage the Third - 8 October 2017

Having decided to follow the course of the River Frome from source to mouth, I poured over the map devising a route. And, yes, I know someone's already done it and there's a footpath for a large part of the river's 30 mile length, but as far as we could see, there's chunks missing on the waymarked foopath. Turns out there's a reason for that - and that reason being it's not so much a case of following the course of the river in places, as following the course of the road!

My second source of disappointment was the discovery that we'd already walked the first part of it - from Evershot to Dorchester and, lovely as that stretch is, I'm always in search of something new. How to get round that conundrum? Answer, do the walk in reverse. Having settled on this east to west trajectory, I discovered that, in fact, I hadn't settled on it. It left me feeling unsettled. Something was wrong. What was it? After all, we would merely be following the sun's movement round the earth (or is it the earth's movement round the sun?) Either way, the sun rises in the east and moves round to the west, so why should this feel unnatural?

Shrugging my shoulders at my inability to answer this one, we parked in Dorchester for my military-tuned plan. Managing to resist being drawn into a very tempting car boot sale, we passed the time of day with another defector from  the walking group. ("You're not walking today either then?" "Well, yes, but not with the group.") Dave was very keen to hear about our progress when we told him what we were aiming to do. We promised to let him know and darted off to Dorchester South station, caught the train with a carriageful of others (what were they all doing? Surely they weren't all doing the same as us?!)

We all spilled out at Wareham and I was raring to go find some new gridsquares. Clicking away at every opportunity, we headed towards the town centre.

Lovely pub sign by the railway - SY9288

St Martin's on the Walls, Wareham - SY9287

St Martin's on the Walls, Wareham - SY9287
Sadly locked at the time of our visit.

As I photographed what I'd read was the oldest building in the town, we were accosted by Santa Claus. No, double take, it was not Santa Claus, but merely his understudy who apparently lives opposite the oldest building in Wareham. "That's the oldest building in Wareham," he confirmed after we apologised for nearly knocking him over. He proceeded to give us a little of the town's history, telling us all about the fire in the town which commenced on a hot day in July 1762 when somebody threw hot ashes form a fire onto a rubbish dump at the back of the Bull's Head Inn (now Lloyds Bank in south Street). Most of the town was subsequently destroyed, "and, as a result," Santa went on to inform us with some aplomb, "there are no thatched buildings left in the town!" Before I could stop myself from realising I was just about to spoil an old man's story and possibly ruin his day, I heard myself contest that allegation. "What about that one?" I pointed across the road about 50 yards from his house. "Well, apart from that one," he conceded and changed the subject swiftly.I felt beside myself with guilt. how could I have done that?!

Anglebury House - the oldest building in Wareham, dated 1550

When he left the subject of Wareham and launched into his life story and time spent in South Africa, I decided against politeness and opted for being rude, after all, I'd already ruined his day. "Sorry, but we really must get going," I tried to be as nice as possible as we waved goodbye to Santa looking afresh at the thatched building across the road.

We headed east towards our destination, along an avenue of Scots Pine, straining our eyes for our first view of the sea and the Frome's end at Swineham Point. There were plenty of boats along the Frome at this point and Paul wanted to stop just short of the the furthest point east'. Of course he didn't realise his error otherwise he wouldn't have suggested it as being  "a good place to stop for our picnic?" "But we can't," I objected, "it's not as far as we can go!" Little matter that 'as far as we can go' meant either retracing our steps to Paul's choice of picnic spot or sitting in the middle of the footpath with our sandwiches.

Near Swineham Farm - SY9387

My map is a little out of date so does not show the flooded gravel pits at Swineham Point. I immediately suggested this as being our lunch spot, once we had paid due homage to the Frome. I'm glad I already knew that this homage would be paid from a distance. Without a boat (now there's an idea!) you can't really view the mouth of the Frome. So we peered over the reedbeds to the passing yachts and paid tribute to the longest river in Dorset.

The mouth of the River Frome at Swineham Point, Wareham - SY9487

We went back to the gravel pits and sat amongst the rubble (including some cherub's legs) with our lunch watching Egrets, Herons, Coots and Geese.

Swineham Point gravel pits - SY9487

Interesting rubble at Swineham gravel pits - SY9487

We'd hoped to follow the course of the River across to Ridge, but bumped into some people who said they'd had to wade through the flooded river and then turned back because it got too deep. We decided against this course of action. "We'll just have to come back when it's drier," I said excitedly as we retraced our steps back into the town, "then we can do it the right way round." I still had that gnawing feeling that we should be walking towards the sea and not away from it. Maybe it's the anticipation of seeing the sea, a sense that has been fuelled from many family car trips when everyone vyed to be the first to see the sea.

Back in Wareham town I was growing a tinsy bit anxious. It was already 1 pm and we hadn't really left our starting point yet. It was a beautiful day however, and we admired the Sunday lunchers at the Old Granary leisurely eating their lunch whilst we ploughed on along the Purbeck Way to Ridge.

River Frome at Wareham - SY9287

The Old Granary and the River Frome, Wareham - SY9287

We passed only briefly into SY9286 and I was waiting for the moment with camera poised.

Towards Stoborough from the Purbeck Way - SY9286

We left the River Frome at Ridge, but continued along the Purbeck Way heading through the houses south-west towards Stoborough, stopping at the crossroads for the obligatory photograph.

Signpost at Ridge - SY9386

We crossed the B3075 and then the A351, and onto Stoborough Heath where we departed from the Purbeck Way. Admittedly that footpath looked a much more attractive option than our road-bound route, but we had set our faces westwards and westwards we must continue.

Stoborough Heath - SY9285

This is an incredibly dull part of the walk and it lasts for a good mile and a half through Holme Lane plantation. We weren't sure whether it would be possible to walk through the woods and avoid walking on the road, but never felt confident enough to try it.

Approaching the railway bridge - SY9185

Holme Lane Plantation - SY9085

We were walking along the northern border of the MOD Lulworth Ranges so anything south of us was out of bounds. Coupled with the busyness of this road and its seemingly interminable length, I felt like we would never reach East Holme and Holme Priory.

But we did. We turned off onto a quieter road and made for the Priory and its little church where we aimed to have a coffee break.

The Bond family still live in Holme Priory, from where the key for the tiny church can be obtained (we found out later). Apparently the family has adopted a certain secret agent's motto ‘The world is not enough’. Or is it a case of James Bond 007 having adopted a motto which already existed? In 1915 aged seven, Bond’s creator, Ian Fleming, boarded not too far away at Durnford School in Langton Matravers, where he mingled with the Dorset gentry and borrowed several of their names – Strangways for an MI6 operative in the Caribbean, and Drax for the villain in Moonraker, for example. 

But there is another connection with Holme Priory and the secret agent. The real-life present-day owner of Holme Priory, William Bond, has a diary of an ancestor, Denis Bond, which refers to a John Bond who worked in Queen Elizabeth’s secret service and helped Sir Francis Drake in numerous Flemingesque escapades. In 1572 he escaped from the St Bartholomew’s Day massacre in France by taking hostage a woman and her children and threatening to kill them. It seems to have been this John Bond who hijacked the royal motto of King Philip of Spain (in Latin, ‘Non sufficit orbis’), perhaps to cock a snook at England’s arch-enemy.

It was Denis Bond who extended Holme Priory in the late 18th century. It passed to his nephew, who was the first of four Nathaniel Bonds to live there, some of them on their way to taking over the main seat of their branch of the family, the house now known as Creech Grange but formerly as just Grange. One of these Nathaniels was a distinguished QC, although remembered today mainly for having defended Jane Austen’s aunt against a charge of shoplifting! Later, Holme Priory was let for almost a hundred years but in the 1950s it was taken on by Martin Bond, a grandson of the fourth of those successive Nathaniels. William Bond succeeded and he himself has a son called Nathaniel.

Sadly we found the church locked, but I read afterwards that  a wooden cross inside the church was made from mother-of-pearl in the Solomon Islands. Another visit is becoming increasingly necessary! 

Other interesting facts about this area: on 25 August 1940, a Me110 crashed at Priory Farm after being shot down, and its crew were taken prisoner. 

To the south-east of the hamlet of East Holme Old English font marks Three Lords Barrow - so called because three manors meet here. So do four parishes: Arne, Church Knowle, Steeple and East Holme. A piece of window from Holme Priory is set in the top of the barrow as a marker stone. 
(Information from http://www.dorsetlife.co.uk/2011/12/east-holme/)

Holme Priory - SY8985

St John the Evangelist Church, East Holme - SY8985

We had bumped into a couple of ladies when we'd walked across the fields to the church and we bumped into them again, together with their partners sitting on a bench in the centre of the hamlet just after we'd crossed the ford. We stopped to talk to them for a bit before continuing to more Old English Font at Holme Bridge.There are now two bridges across the Frome here - the old one forms a sort of informal car park.

Holme Bridge - SY8986

A little known battle was fought during the Civil War here. The town of Wareham remained in Royalist hands during the winter of 1643 but on 27th February 1644 Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper for Parliament launched a full scale attack on the town. The assault came from all sides and the Royalists were greatly outnumbered. A fierce battle took place on Holme Bridge where forty five men, both horse and foot, beat off three hundred Roundheads for five hours, killing forty of them. It was reported that Captain Purton was wounded and “bled to death while encouraging his men with great cheerfulness” After a day of relentless attacks by the Roundheads from Poole the outnumbered Royalists surrendered the garrison. (Information from Dorset Ancestors.com.)

An information board at the site also informed us that two German airmen had hidden under the bridge during the Second World War after their airplane had been shot down and crashed into Priory Farm. The men were captured and taken prisoner. Apparently the farmer at Priory farm had used the cockpit canopy as a cloche for many years.

The River Frome meanders tortuously between the A352 and the Lulworth Ranges but sadly you cannot see it as you walk the footpath to Rushton Farm as it is too far away.

Rushton Farm - SY8886

Shortly after Rushton Farm the footpath leads up to the railway and then stops abruptly. We crossed the road in the hope of visiting East Stoke Church, but all our church attempts today were to be thwarted.  Built in 1828 this former church replaced an older building closer to the River Frome because apparently there were concerns about flooding. This building was made redundant in 1988 and converted to private residences when the ecclesiastical parish of East Stoke was merged with that of Wool. 

Church of St Mary, East Stoke - SY8787

River Frome at East Stoke - SY8786

Level crossing over railway at East Stoke - SY8786

We passed a fisherman and walked down the road, closely behind a little girl on a horse being led by a rather large lady. Fortunately our path soon led us westwards again and we hunted for the former Church of St Mary. I was very disappointed to discover its ruinous state. Of course I knew it was going to be a ruin, but I thought it was going to be an accessible ruin. It used to be; an information board invites you to look for the scratch dial on its wall. A very overgrown gate used to give access to what remains of this ancient site. Sadly no more. We had to be content with a glimpse at briars and nettles.

St Mary's Church, East Stoke - SY8686

The two St Mary's churches - old and new - SY8686

We then entered East Stoke Fen nature reserve and decided we were possibly the only two people ever to have done so - until we came to another information board which justified the nature reserve's existence. Apparently it is home to a lot of invisible wildlife. So it wasn't just our imagination! This invisible wildlife inhabits the fens and takes the form of plagiopyla which only inhabit oxygen free aquatic sites and provide food for the initial stages of fish and other aquatic life.

East Stoke Fen nature reserve - SY8686

Leaving the reserve I would have liked to have at least passed the Bindon Abbey (founded 1172), but that didn't look possible so I made do with a photo of Bindon Farm instead.

Bindon Farm - SY8586

We couldn't make out the supposed earthworks in the fields outside Wool,but we didn't pause long to look, neither did we pause for long at the church in Wool. After nearly 13 miles we were keen to get to our destination and drink the dregs of our tea. It had been a great walk and now I'm going to count how many things we've got to come back for . . .

Holy Rood Church, Wool - SY8486

Number of new gridsquares: 15
Number of squares discounted as Geographs by Geograph: 2
Number of miles walked: 12.8
Number of Santa Claus's seen: 1
Number of things to return for: 6