It
can be very easy to dismiss the familiar as mundane. I confess to
having done it. If I have a day clear when I can head for the hills, do I
look out the window at the local countryside and think “Yep, that’s
what I want to do” or do I get my maps out, pull the guide books off the
shelves, fire up Grough and look for something challenging, steep and
rocky? Clue: it’s the second one. The reasoning seems to be that unless
it’s toughish and mountain-shaped, then it’s not really going to give me
what I need. The adage “Familiarity breeds contempt” fits here,
although it’s not really contempt, more ambivalence, an existential
“meh”.
Well, last Friday, I learned my lesson. I set off on what turned out today one of the finest days walking I have had in a very long time. It was no epic, there was no packraft, no rucksack stuffed with a month’s food or wading through thigh-deep swamp. The weather was glorious, my physical altitude peaked at around 320 metres, but my emotional altitude was way higher. So what did I do?
A little background information first. I moved up to Cheltenham, Glos., in 1996, and aside from a few years living in Ross-on-Wye after I got married that’s where home has remained. Cheltenham markets itself as “Centre for the Cotswolds”. Note the for in that slogan; it’s not in the Cotswolds, it’s on the edge, down on the Severn plain. Nonetheless, from my window as I type this I can see the Cotswolds. The escarpment arcs around the eastern edge of Cheltenham, so I can see Cleeve Hill to the north and follow the sweep that takes in Wistley, Leckhampton and Crickley Hills. I’ve strolled about on the their slopes, I have ground up and flown down their twisty trails on my mountain bike. But I have never viewed them as a destination for a hillwalking day. In fact the Cotswold Way has always struck me as a bit red-socked rambler, a bit “Country Walking”, a bit, dare I say it, Julia Bradbury...
Interestingly, as I have got older, I think I have become more prepared to reconsider my opinions. Naturally, we make decisions very quickly on what we see or hear, and we base our actions on those judgements. It is really important to remember that they are just that, snap judgements worthy of further, deeper consideration. And this is what happened with me and the Cotswold Way. Looking for a project to keep me occupied over the winter I thought why not do the Cotswold Way in stages. It passes no more than three kilometres from my house, it seems churlish to ignore a 105 mile long, waymarked trail that’s right on my doorstep. I bought the Harveys Cotswold Way map (also another first, having always been an OS loyalist) and looked over the route. Game on.
So this Friday just gone, Bev dropped me of in the middle of Chipping Campden at the northern end of the route. It’s a pretty little town, but I didn’t linger. I was heading for Winchcombe, 30 kilometres and a days walk south.
Well, last Friday, I learned my lesson. I set off on what turned out today one of the finest days walking I have had in a very long time. It was no epic, there was no packraft, no rucksack stuffed with a month’s food or wading through thigh-deep swamp. The weather was glorious, my physical altitude peaked at around 320 metres, but my emotional altitude was way higher. So what did I do?
A little background information first. I moved up to Cheltenham, Glos., in 1996, and aside from a few years living in Ross-on-Wye after I got married that’s where home has remained. Cheltenham markets itself as “Centre for the Cotswolds”. Note the for in that slogan; it’s not in the Cotswolds, it’s on the edge, down on the Severn plain. Nonetheless, from my window as I type this I can see the Cotswolds. The escarpment arcs around the eastern edge of Cheltenham, so I can see Cleeve Hill to the north and follow the sweep that takes in Wistley, Leckhampton and Crickley Hills. I’ve strolled about on the their slopes, I have ground up and flown down their twisty trails on my mountain bike. But I have never viewed them as a destination for a hillwalking day. In fact the Cotswold Way has always struck me as a bit red-socked rambler, a bit “Country Walking”, a bit, dare I say it, Julia Bradbury...
Interestingly, as I have got older, I think I have become more prepared to reconsider my opinions. Naturally, we make decisions very quickly on what we see or hear, and we base our actions on those judgements. It is really important to remember that they are just that, snap judgements worthy of further, deeper consideration. And this is what happened with me and the Cotswold Way. Looking for a project to keep me occupied over the winter I thought why not do the Cotswold Way in stages. It passes no more than three kilometres from my house, it seems churlish to ignore a 105 mile long, waymarked trail that’s right on my doorstep. I bought the Harveys Cotswold Way map (also another first, having always been an OS loyalist) and looked over the route. Game on.
So this Friday just gone, Bev dropped me of in the middle of Chipping Campden at the northern end of the route. It’s a pretty little town, but I didn’t linger. I was heading for Winchcombe, 30 kilometres and a days walk south.
The Start
Now,
I am not going to give a blow by blow description of the route; there
are plenty of maps and guide books that will do that for you. I thought I
could just mention a couple of highlights, and maybe list some
observations that might be helpful to those following in my footsteps.
The Mile Drive
One
of things that struck me was how big Cotswoldian sky can be. The top of
the hills can be very flat, and on a beautiful day the canopy of the
sky seems immense. Although you are never far from a road, the vertical
space makes up for the slightly constricted horizontal.
Something else that you cannot help but pick up on is the age of the landscape. When you walk the wild parts of Britain, very often it is easy to imagine that all human life has disappeared. Would that landscape look any different if that were the case? Not much. Yet the Cotswolds are different. They feel ancient. And there is a good reason why this is the case. They are ancient. A quick glance at an OS map shows earthworks, forts, barrows and settlements. Roman roads, villas and ruins dot the landscape (Bath, the terminus of the Cotswold Way is probably the most famous Roman site in Britain). That depth of history permeates you as you walk through the landscape. You seem to soak it up through your feet until you are brimming over with it. It’s hard to describe, it’s definitely worth experiencing.
Something else that you cannot help but pick up on is the age of the landscape. When you walk the wild parts of Britain, very often it is easy to imagine that all human life has disappeared. Would that landscape look any different if that were the case? Not much. Yet the Cotswolds are different. They feel ancient. And there is a good reason why this is the case. They are ancient. A quick glance at an OS map shows earthworks, forts, barrows and settlements. Roman roads, villas and ruins dot the landscape (Bath, the terminus of the Cotswold Way is probably the most famous Roman site in Britain). That depth of history permeates you as you walk through the landscape. You seem to soak it up through your feet until you are brimming over with it. It’s hard to describe, it’s definitely worth experiencing.
Fairly straightforward navigation at this point.
The
Cotswold Way also passes through what must be some of the most
quintessentially English countryside you could imagine. It crosses the
high, flat tops of the hills before dropping down through little valleys
to freakishly charming Cotswold stone villages (some of which are yet
to be overrun by camera-wielding, tat-buying tourists). Winding across
park-like fields, it suddenly climbs steeply, opening up beautiful
vistas to the west. It is very pretty!
Stanton, home of the Mount Inn
I
thought I might list here a few observations that may help those who
are thinking of doing the Cotswold Way, perhaps backpacking it.
The route is ridiculously well signposted. Every junction, or direction change either has a finger board pointing the way or a little yellow “Cotswold Way” (with acorn) confirming the route. On longer stretches through fields or woods where there is no direction change a wooden bollard guides you onwards. I only used my map to see how far away the next stop was, I don’t think I used it for route-finding the whole day. If visibility was really, really bad it might be an issue.
The paths when I walked this section were in very good condition. They were varied (narrow, wide, stony, smooth, grassy) but firm under foot and easy to follow generally. I imagine after rain or a prolonged wet spell that may not be the case, I know from experience that they can get very slippery. I suspect I will confirm that as I continue walking the route over the winter.
The route is ridiculously well signposted. Every junction, or direction change either has a finger board pointing the way or a little yellow “Cotswold Way” (with acorn) confirming the route. On longer stretches through fields or woods where there is no direction change a wooden bollard guides you onwards. I only used my map to see how far away the next stop was, I don’t think I used it for route-finding the whole day. If visibility was really, really bad it might be an issue.
The paths when I walked this section were in very good condition. They were varied (narrow, wide, stony, smooth, grassy) but firm under foot and easy to follow generally. I imagine after rain or a prolonged wet spell that may not be the case, I know from experience that they can get very slippery. I suspect I will confirm that as I continue walking the route over the winter.
One thing that struck me was the fact that on a couple of occasions the route leads you off the high ground to run you through towns like Broadway and Winchcombe. This is handy if you need to re-supply or make use of a hostelry (more on that in a moment) but it feels a bit contrived. If you don’t need to visit them, then these towns can be bypassed and a more logical route picked, although I guess that means you are not walking the Cotswold Way proper.
If you’re backpacking, it should be possible to find a somewhere to pitch up, if you are sensible. The route passes through woods and spinneys, and quite a number of the fields are very rolling. A low-profile tent or tarp, in a muted colour, pitched late in the day could well go unnoticed.
Normally
I like to take in a mountain when I go walking. There are no mountains
to be had in Gloucestershire so I had to settle on the Mount Inn in
Stanton instead. It’s very slightly off the route, back up a short steep
climb, but it’s worth a stop. Good beer, good food and ample beer garden
to enjoy it in. Other hostelry stops could include Broadway and
Winchcombe. There’s no shop in Stanton, so the only other resupply point
would the shop at Hailes Abbey which has a small selection of drinks
and sweets.
Stanway House
I
hope that is of some interest, there will be more information posted as
I work my way south over the coming weeks. I never really gave the
Cotswold Way much credit, but my eyes have been opened and I am thoroughly
looking forward to the miles to come.
Splendid! Quite splendid. I have wandered various parts of the Cotswolds over the years and stayed in some wonderful pubs and hotels (I remember a particularly wonderful time at a restaurant with rooms in Winchcombe... sigh)
ReplyDeleteI'm really looking forward to this series as I am just about to embark (with two other bloggers) upon a small jaunt where I doubt that we will reach the 100m contour line!
Englandshire has some fabulous walking country: It's not all about summits and crags. It's about a sense of time and space. And great beers.
Hi Alan, thanks for your comment. It wasn't Wesley House in Winchcombe by any chance was it? Far too convenient having your room upstairs from the booze!
ReplyDeleteI hope your low-level walk goes well and you don't get too "side-tracked"!
Having never walked that far south, due to the probable onset of blood pressure caused by the price of beer, it certainly looks a nice Autumn walk. I say autumn because i guess it will probably be a little quieter.
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to reading more.
Wesley House! Yes it was. (A few years ago now, but all the same it was quite splendid.) I remember excellent food, interesting lighting and very attentive hosts.
ReplyDeleteHey, this looks interesting, I am planning to amble this myself this late spring / early summer, so thanks for the pointers. Will be following with interest.
ReplyDelete