Ilam

I decided to give the Staffordshire Way out of Utoxeter a fair hearing. Alas trudging along it through the rain soon diminished its appeal to me. Judging by the signs on the ground it is not well used and others have commented that it is neglected. I would have just said 'dull.'

I did stumble across the clearly exclusive Abbotsholme School and the World HQ of JCB (of excavator fame) at Rocester where the old cotton mill and surrounding  expensive real estate seemed to be owned by the company.

I decided to leave the Staffordshire Way at Norbury and to swing west towards the old Tissington Railway trail, to save climbing over stiles and making frequent navigation checks. I crossed a lovely stone bridge, still guarded by a wartime pill box, and was suddenly in Derbyshire! I was immediately rewarded with the sight of an old railway station (Norbury) and platform. Dave’s family had lived there for over 50 years and he remembers the trains running.

 
Shortly after I stumbled on Norbury Manor and adjacent Abbey, another National Trust property open to the public at the time of my visit but deserted.

 
 




 I had to admit I was not sorry to leave Staffordshire. All the other Shires I’d walked through had been a delight, but not Staffordshire. And there was that accent too!

As the day wore on I stopped at each pub to check for accommodation options nearby and ahead. I was astonished to find that being back in Derbyshire and the Peak District there were YHA’s nearby. They were all full. So were all the pubs, so too the B&B’s and the hotels.

I trudged into Ilam (pronounced eye lamb) at 6pm intending to throw myself onto the mercy of anyone willing to offer me a bed or place to pitch my tent. I passed a field out of town with two tents but it looked so forlorn I pushed onto the YHA at Ilam which I already knew was full.

I discovered the YHA occupied Ilam Hall, a magnificent National Trust property with the usual chequered history of changing hands and near demolition. I managed to persuade the YHA manager to allow me to stay the evening in the lounge and take advantage of the buffet and bar and lounge. Alas he still could not offer me accommodation so I set off in search in the grounds nearby. The annoying thing is that school parties book YHA accommodation by the dorm not by the bed for understandable reasons so beds were available but not for non school group members.

I discovered a small caravan park (not shown on the OS map) behind and associated with Ilam Hall that had access to toilets and showers.. The campsite warden apologised that the campsite was only for caravans but me being just a young man (his words) he pointed out a spot nearby just outside the park boundary that was just as good. I sweet talked one of the caravan park people to giving me the door code for the showers (and very hot and strong they were too).

And then I discovered several other places to rest my weary body for the night (apart from my tent) including the nearby church vestry, several dry but draughty  alcoves, and a spot behind a sofa in the YHA when all the staff had retuired for the night.

So showered, fed and otherwise refreshed I enjoyed a night’s indoor accommodation free of charge, though I was happy to pay any reasonable amount on such a miserable cold rainy night. 

Utoxeter

 Gerald kindly drove me back to our rendezvous of the previous evening. I resumed walking the canal until it swung away from the direction I wanted and pushed on along back roads to the town of Cannock which held little interest for me.

Further on Cannock Chase was impressive in size but less so in arboreal diversity being mostly pine trees.

As I left the Chase I made the mistake of taking a B Road to Utoxeter thinking all B roads are less trafficked but this B road was clearly a local favourite and I spent several unpleasant hours dodging traffic and jumping onto muddy verges.

As I came into the outskirts of Utoxeter I stopped at a pub to gather local info on accommodation and was told of a ‘Boarding House’ just down the road. Being late and my boots and feet wet and the price being reasonable I searched no further.

Both the Pub Landlord and the Boarding House Manager mentioned an oriental fellow just weeks back walking JOGLE and the their independent views that he was a Ghurkha. I would have thought Ghurkhas far more stoic.

A quick evening inspection of Utoxeter revealed nothing of interest to me apart from some nice pubs. I spent the remaining hours trying to plan the route and accommodation up ahead and keep my travel diary up to date but fell asleep over my netbook as the days efforts got the better of me. I estimate I walked 24 miles / 35kms today.

Wolverhampton

 As I left Bewdley I decided to make another major deviation by abandoning the Severn Valley Way and taking instead the canal straight into Wolverhampton. I was particularly keen to see the canal-related relics of the Industrial Revolution and was looking forward to a bit of squalor and urban decay.

The canal to Worcester was a delight with plenty of narrow boat traffic and the odd rambler.

For a while I walked in step with Ian and Sue who’d had their narrow boat for 18 years and spend most of the year on it, though they had a ‘real’ home elsewhere.

Later I fell into step with a vigorous looking walker named Alan, a former male nurse just several months older than me. As we shared views on life in general and particularly for men of our difficult age he mentioned he didn’t have to worry about it for too much longer because of his terminal medical condition.

I followed the canal right through Wolverhampton (with a brief deviation along a former railway) and out the other side without seeing anything other than a peaceful rural canal, punctuated with lovely canal-side pubs and the occasional locks, but not a sign of the Industrial age and barely a sign of Wolverhampton itself apart from the odd well-kept suburb. I wonder all that industry went.

I was met the just north of Wolverhampton at our Motorway junction rendezvous by Gerald, married to the lovely Megan who I’d known as a child growing up in Papua New Guinea, otherwise Australian but now living a life of domesticity in fair Coventry. Even though it was only Thursday Megan had cooked a Sunday roast in my honour (I presume). I don’t think Gerald was so impressed because I’m sure he only gets Sunday roasts on Sunday (if he’s lucky).

Bewdley

The route from Worcester to Bewdley continued along the Severn Way entirely alongside the Severn River.

The Severn is a lovely unspoiled river and this it remains along its length all the way from Worcester to Bewdley and beyond, with the adjoining footpath an unchanging muddy track along its banks. I met no one along its length with whom to share my walk.

I took the opportunity of adjacent B roads here and there to relive the unchanging river scenery but I seemed to be beyond the region of Tudor houses at every turn.

I reached Stourport on Severn later in the afternoon focussed mostly on finding accommodation. I also knew that from here I had the option of a canal route north to Wolverhampton (rather than round it) as an alternative to the Severn Way. But there was only one local Inn with overpriced rooms so I pressed on along a rather dreary B road to Bewdley given advice of it being a pretty town with more scope for Pub accommodation and B&B’s.

Bewdley turned out to have a lovely riverside frontage and several nice pubs and numerous pubs, one of which had modest B&B accommodation in which eventually lay my weary head.

Worcester

Today was my worst day of the walk so far.

Needless to say I had troubles navigating out of Tewkesbury. There were just so many paths and waterways and access roads. Not a good start.

And today it was raining. And like yesterday my route was long the River Severn. After an hour of walking along its banks along the muddy seldom used trail, in the rain, I’d had enough so turned to the nearby B roads. I was rewarded by the usual procession of lovely Tudor houses.

At one point I stopped at a house undergoing renovations and the builders escorted me through the house to show me their work. One said the house was owned by solicitors and worth £500,000.

At midday I came into the town if Upton on Severn. A pretty town with copious pubs and small shops, including a chippy where I refuelled. I also called into a book shop to check on guides to the Severn Way but the shop owner said it was not very popular.

The rain grew heavier as the day progressed so I abandoned the soulless and muddy Severn Way altogether, looking forward to reaching the village of Kempsey, namesake of the Kempsey in New South Wales where Haydon and Jenna were born. Alas Kempsey had nothing to recommend it that I could see though I took a few photos to mark the occasion.

Just out of Kempsey I took off my backpack to get out my MP3 player, but it froze as soon as I turned it on so I switched to my spare one, which went straight to fairly sombre music.

On the outskirts of Worcester I came upon the viewing platform overlooking the site of the last battle of the English Civil War. I reached for my camera but it was missing. The Velcro fastening was open and just ineffective in the wet conditions. I thought I’d backed up the photos onto my laptop the previous night but I’d only saved the ones I’d reduced in resolution for the Blog.

I retraced my steps but the camera was nowhere to be seen. Until recently the camera battery and SD card both bore labels with my contact details. Alas I’d replaced them both and had nor re-labelled the new ones.

So I’ve lost all the photos I have taken on the trip to far.

I filed a lost property report with the local police but do not hold out much confidence.

And today the mouse on my netbook stopped working. And yesterday I discovered my Kindle was no longer working.

My worst day.

Tewksebury

 I left Gloucester accompanied by Kathy who was interested in walking the first part of the Severn Way out of town. Sadly it seemed little used and overgrown. I then pressed on alone but decided to take the nearby B road after tiring of the Severn Way. 

 

By doing so I stumbled upon numerous beautiful Tudor cottages, the Anglo Saxon Priory Church of St Mary founded in about 800 AD and the nearby Odda’s Chapel of 1056AD




Apart from everything else the Priory had some beautiful brasses I wish I’d had the time to take rubbing from.

 

I resumed the Severn Way all the way into Tewkesbury and almost bumped straight into the beautiful Bell Hotel with the Cathedral opposite. The Bell Hotel was offering high standard en-suite room for £30 B&B but with the weather then looking safe I felt obliged to check out the nearby campsite. The receptionist apologised for the £16 cost for a tent pitch (in spite of me telling him my tent was the size of a coffin) and I was relieved to reply that for an extra £14 I’d take the nearby offer of an en-suite hotel room and cooked breakfast.

My evening stroll round Tewkesbury revealed the most picturesque English town I have come across with almost every other building a Tudor beauty. My wandering also revealed more pubs and accommodation than I thought possible given the scarcity indicated elsewhere. As it was the Bell had 24 rooms, few of which were occupied.

My stroll down to the River Severn and adjacent canal revealed a beautiful water mill and dozens of lovely canal barges.

And the Cathedral rang out its bells for me.

Gloucester

I left Dursley and headed off into the weakening gale. Deep in thought and as usual first thing in the morning I missed the B road and after a while thought the road unusually busy. After a quick GPS check I was astonished to find I’d missed the Uley turn off and was on the A road. Cursing my lack of concentration I struck into the woods (Folly Wood) and navigated my way back to the B road into the pretty town of Uley.

A woman I passed asked if I was crazy out walking in this weather but I smiled knowing I was dry and warm.

Just above Uley was yet another massive hilltop fortress; Uley Bury, so extensive I decided not to walk round it but to press on. Further on was yet another barrow; Nymphield Long Barrow, some 5000 years old from the Neolithic era. A man out walking his dog chatted to me. I asked if he had walked any of the Cotswolds Way and he said he hadn’t because he ‘lived locally.’ I noted that the Cotswolds Way has been the best maintained and signposted National Trail I had walked on, in spite of its meanderings.

The trail passed through the picturesque town of Painswick where I lingered for refreshments in the one pub still trading and to take photos and pressed on to Gloucester knowing it to be a longish hike.

My final approach to Gloucester was through the Council Estate and over Gloucester’s highest wooded hilltop which I was too tired to appreciate and finally down into Gloucester to meet Kathy who had kindly offered me a spare bed for the night.

Over a lovely vegetarian dinner Kathy had prepared we discussed places we’d worked and Kathy astonished me with her experiences teaching in countries that included the Falklands (twice), Sudan, Nigeria, Poland and her other travels in the Ukraine and elsewhere.

The following morning I was just not up to travelling and knowing something of the attractions of Gloucester Kathy offered to accompany me on a tour of Gloucester town centre and the Cathedral.

In the Cathedral we were joined by a Cathedral Guide who seemed happy to spend his entire day with us there. Thanks to his and Kathy’s knowledge I can now claim to have walked in the steps of William the Conqueror and Henry VIII. I was also able to admire the tomb of Edward II (reference Braveheart the movie) and the place in which Edward III? (check) was crowned and the Chapter room that was basically the HQ for compiling the Doomsday Book. And the beautifully vaulted cloisters used as a setting for one of the Harry Potter films.

Another of the Cathedrals claims to fame is in being one of the few former monasteries left standing by Henry VIII because its associations with former monarchs.

The Guide’s information on the ambitions and schemings of the rulers and influential families of the era were just too much to take in. The Guide then handed us over to another Guide to visit the Crypt where the Guide pointed out the structural aspects the cathedrals foundations, the corruption of the Church in the middle ages (payments for monks prayers to avoid Purgatory) and the place where hundreds of monks had spent their last night on mortal earth.

Sadly no one was playing the magnificent church organ with its 4000 pipes.

I spent much of the evening planning the next few nights accommodation, but advice from local Tourist Office indicated little in the way of accommodation up ahead in Tewkesbury. I also realised that I had not researched the Severn Way and that there was oddly little to offer on the web.