Categories: friends, translation
Date: 01 June 2009 21:08:02
...that I was out of range of a mobile signal on Saturday. The thought of having to dredge up obscurely phrased sentences on a broken line - without being able to see the text I'd produced - would have been particularly trying.
As it was, I arose betimes, got all my walking stuff ready, packed a lunch and my plasters and was ready for the off a good ten minutes early. (I know, difficult to believe, isn't it?). I put those 10 mins to good use by turning on the trusty computer to find Frau Schnellspeak's mobile number. I thought I should offer her the service of being able to contact me, if necessary. I found a message from her timed at 6.16 a.m. (wow!) thanking me for my speedy efforts. I felt suitably released from duty and skipped (metaphorically speaking...I was wearing my clumpy walking boots) off on the day's adventure.
And what a fabulous adventure it was! A friend had arranged a walk for a dozen people in the heart of the Mendips. We set off - almost vertically it seemed - for the first few hundred yards but happily that got most of the steep bit out of the way. The views over the countryside were simply stunning. The weather was hot and sunny, the countryside was green, green, green and it was possible to see for miles and miles over softly rolling hills, down to a lake. This was the point when I discovered that there is something wrong with my camera. I thought the view was worth sharing with you all - and this would be the moment for me to work out how to insert my first photo into this wordy work - but sadly, the view has had to be committed to memory and you have been deprived of it.
We were following the Monarch's Walk - a 615 mile trek undertaken by Charles II after the Battle of Worcester in 1651 when he was pursued by Oliver Cromwell for 6 weeks before he managed to escape to France. The 11 or so miles of this route that we followed was described in the guide book along the lines of being relatively unremarkable as there were few dwellings or people to be curious about him. It's as true today. We encountered a few fields of cows and saw the odd farm but until we reached the pub half way (which also had a royal connection: The Queen Victoria depicting a very grumpy-looking old lady - you will know the picture..) we saw no one! A couple more friends joined us there and after suitable refreshment and a few running repairs (so to speak) to squished and blistered toes off we set on the second leg. (Yes, I know, another opportunity for a pun).
We walked through a wooded area and encountered a sign which said "Cliff" and an arrow pointed the way. I was glad I spotted the warning. There was indeed a cliff which dropped steeply into a gorge. I remembered Orthodox Ian's story of some months ago when he got lost on a hillside in the dark and was thankful it wasn't here. There wasn't a barrier or anything to prevent you from falling several hundred feet down. And it was a little deceptive because there were trees growing out of the sides of the gorge which at first from our level looked like bushes until you realised that the ground dropped away. My hands went sweaty at the thought of someone being disoriented in bad light falling down here.
The views from here were stunning: right across the Somerset Levels to Glastonbury Tor with a line of hills directly ahead in the distance. I haven't worked out yet which hills they were. (I initially thought they would be the Cotswolds but I think I was looking south - and even though I am spatially challenged, I'm pretty sure the Cotswolds would be north of where I was. Any geographers out there who can enlighten me?).
We descended from Ebbor Gorge and found ourselves in the village of Wookey. I remember this place from being a teenager when BigBruv and I had some distinctly (un)hilarious running joke about Wonderful Wookey Hole when we were on holiday in the area once. It is the site of some ancient caverns but although we didn't stop long enough to take in the wonders of Wookey Hole (neither back then, nor on this occasion), we did stop at the Old Bakery Tea House for a cup that refreshes (and in some cases, the full cream tea experience!). We sat inside as the temperature outside was baking and it was deliciously cool within the stone walls of the building.
Refortified, we set out for the last - er - mile of the walk which was a gentle stroll, really, with one big surprise. I knew that we were making for the smallest city in England*, Wells, but had no idea which direction we would be approaching it from. We turned a corner and bam! there in front of us was the frontage of the cathedral. I've seen it many times before but it was just so unexpected at that point that it was really quite arresting.
While some car drivers were employed in fetching their cars, Maggie and another mate of ours, Tutti Frutti, and I had a few minutes to look at Vicars Close. (The cathedral was closed). The Close was built in 13- something (sorry, forgotten the exact date) for the Vicars Choral (men of the cathedral choir) and had, in addition to its beautiful houses, a communal dining room, chapel and library. It is said to be the oldest continuously inhabited street in Europe and is truly quaint. (Although on the one hand, it must be a privilege to live there, it could also be a terrible trial with a constant stream of tourists gawping at you...)
The delights did not finish there. The car drivers came back about half an hour later with enough cars to get us back to our starting point (the logistics are too complicated to explain here!) and I had the enormous privilege of travelling in a vintage left-hand drive VW Beetle cabriolet! S, Tutti Frutti and I were the guests of Fiona, the owner of this marvellous machine, and we motored along with the warm breeze in our hair for 10 glorious miles! Wheeeeeee!
That evening, we all piled into S+P's garden for a delicious barbecue. The first of the summer!
*not the smallest in the UK. That accolade goes to St David's in Wales which is truly tiny. Wells has a population of approximately 10,000. St David's by contrast has a population of less than 2,000. Were it not for its cathedral, it would be considered merely a village.