A walk on a Victorian Seafront, part 2

The second part of my stroll around Weston-super-Mare leads us up into Weston Woods, and Worlebury Hill.

The Hillside Path to Worlebury Hill.

Sand Bay from Worlebury Hill

As you saw in the previous post, part of the hill has the remains of an Iron Age fort and settlement. The hill dominates the area, with steep sides and access only easy from one side. Which made it perfect for purpose. It was in the early Victorian era that the woods were planted and managed as a resource which later fell into decline. The woods today are being managed again and used for many purposes alongside the wood itself. Youth work, training courses being two of the most popular.

Frost in the shadow of the hill.

Steps leading to the Fort

Since the wood has been thinned there a spaces now where the sun will catch nature and light it up.

Tree detail

These mixed woods are crisscrossed by tracks trails and it is easy to wander for hours through the mix of Oak, Ash, Yew and pine trees. With the reinstatement of active management the wildlife and flora has also enjoyed a resurgence. It is a semi-wild haven for Small Deer, mammals, and birds. Although they are good at staying hidden in such a small and well used piece of countryside. The tracks they leave are often obliterated by us clumpy humans but you can find them if you look carefully.

Badger Track

Sunny Glade

My choice of path this time led me virtually straight up one side and back down the other, using the quarry path to return to company of man and houses. I am a believer in making people use common sense. It seems we are breeding it out these days. In my opinion if a sign tells you there is a cliff, and it is dangerous you should exercise care. If not and you fall off, well you should have taken more care. I don’t think we should put up massive fences “Just in Case” I’ll probably get some flack, but there you go. I don’t like wind farms either and think we should use more nuclear plants. I can probably upset some more people so I’ll leave it there for the moment.

Quarry Fence

I'll admit it's a big drop!

After the woods you come down to Grove Park, a fine park near the town centre. with lots of space for kids to run around, a bandstand for traditional summer concerts in the open air. Weston, has a number of open parks, many bequeathed to the town by philanthropists for the use and enjoyment of the population. This has meant they can’t be sold for building. A great move to keep some fresh spaces in the area. So many seaside towns have been buried under rafts of development that they lose any character they once had.

Quarryside views

Park Views

Park Views II

Open spaces

Open spaces

These spaces along with the architecture that defines the era keeps Weston in a bit of a time warp. Sometimes holding back the possibilities. It is a fine line to tread.

Fencepost Detail

The Old Pier, the ferry from Cardiff docked here, once upon a time.

Sometimes we forget to look about as we walk along doing the things we need to do to live in the modern world, if you take the time for example to look up as you walk down any modern High Street you may be surprised by what you see.

History above the shops

The Old Post Office, detail.

I love the detail put into such simple things. Like this school. They have realised again how important environment is for learning, and have started creating new schools that engender a sense of pride in students, and so encourages learning.

School Buildings

Victorian Terrace

A seaside corner, with arcade and café

A Victorian Crescent overlooking the sea.

The building pictured above is Daunceys Hotel, where my wife and I spent our first married night together, happy memories.

An Abandoned Hotel, The Grand Central.

The nature of English towns changes all the time, not always for the better. I hope we can preserve some of the more interesting objects for the future. But not be held back by fear of change. In both our lives and our environment. One of the interesting things about how Victorian buildings were created is that many came from a set of ready-made plans, these then got adjusted to fit on site by the Master Builder. Many layouts are the same or similar, but the customer could order extras, like a loft room or extra detailing around windows.

I hope you have enjoyed a little trip around an old English seaside town. It’s always a pleasure to walk and try to find details I’ve missed before, to look with fresh eyes at what is around. However, no trip to an English town would be complete without a bag of Fish and Chips, especially in a seaside town. You can’t beat them as you walk along the Prom, eating with your fingers and fighting of the seagulls.

Fish and Chips

River Torridge

I’ve been trying to get time to post for a week now, and have finally grabbed a moment. Sorry to all of you who have left comments. I’ll get to you.

Proper Telephone and post box. In a Devon village.

River Torridge Ramble

The weather forecast on Friday was at best, wet, with the added bonus of strong winds. So rather than head for exposed rocky cliffs I left our chalet and went for a ramble along the River Torridge. There is very little in the way of marked footpaths, so I headed along the bank following the field boundaries and animal trails. There is usually some kind of way along the edges of rivers, though you need to be aware of the streams that will need crossing and the areas of mud and marsh.

The old Motte and Bailey fort marked on the map is all but hidden by the overgrowth of trees, I could tell from the way it commanded high ground over the river that it would have dominated the area in the past, and the name of the area, Woodford Wood and Woodford Bridge, give clues to it’s reason for being. The clouds were low and grey, not stormy, just full with rain that was to pass in thin bands during the day and leaving enough breaks for the sun to bring out the shapes of trees on the skyline and the lush green of riverside vegetation.

The tracks, after a dry summer and recent wet start to December, have become very greasy. It has an upside though, because the rain cleared old traces of animals and left fresh ground to look for the clues to what animals are living along the river. I’m very much a beginner at spotting these tracks and traces but it makes a pleasant change to be slowing down and taking the time to see what’s around in nature, listening to the sounds of the river and woods as you pass.

Along the stretch I found Otter prints, Deer, Pheasant and small bird tracks. Stoat or Weasel, I’m not sure how to tell them apart. Plus many signs of the routes they take through the woods and fields. Slipways into the river, worn paths under hedges and fences, and the holes of smaller rodents.

Winter opens up visibility in the woods and I was lucky enough to see a herd of Deer walking along the edge of a field across the river, A female and about six or seven young. They drifted along before jumping the fence and heading off to wherever they head to live. The river is quite full due to the rain and crossing some of the streams feeding it proved interesting, sometimes you just need to accept you will get wet or muddy, or both. The force of the water can be seen from time to time, in the debris scattered about the banks, or held on a bend in the water itself. Blockages like this will free themselves eventually.

After the narrow tracks of the river, it was all change as I crossed the bridge at Haytown, entering the domain of man. Past the Olde Mill House (It is spelt like that, no artistic licence from me) and into Bulkworthy. Its chapel is plain and dark with the local stone, well looked after and the village consists mostly of Town Farm. It was time now to follow one of the Bridleways that cross the English countryside. Wide and not too sloshy with mud I had views across the river bottom I had just walked along, out over the heaped domes of the Devon hills.

Open country is a different challenge, and some farmers plough footpath anyway to discourage their use. Usually though you can see the trace of the feet of ages crossing the field. Over stiles and through kissing gates. Into the heart of a farm to return to the Chalet. A pleasant stroll around Devon, with only a little rain to dampen the sky.

Windswept Tree

Vine Detail

Mushrooms

Fox

Don't know what this one is.

First view of the River Torridge from the fort

Little feet, Otter I think

River level Marker

More tracks

Bird Feet

Streams to be crossed

Water Rat Hole, small furry creatures.

Mud! If you walk by a river, its expected

River blockage

Vines on Oak

Tree Line and Blue sky.

More Fungus

Small Waterfall

Church Detail

Church Detail 2

Church Wall Detail

I’ll look at the layout of this post later. Sorry if its a bit rough.

Morning Forest

Morning Forest.

The Sun coming through the trees

The eyes of the forest blink in the light.
Crows shout a warning.
Cool dawn mist passes through the trees
My footsteps sound louder,
further away from me, like a stranger walking.
They echo through the branches
through the space where the tree has fallen.
Roots reaching for the sky,
surrendering. Dry leaves chatter
of the changing season.
The sun rises and the mist settles back,
work done for the day.

Mist at the start of the walk.

Walking in Hungary

Friday I set of for a stroll in the hills above Balatonfured. On a warm day with the hint of a breeze I walked through woodland to the Summit of a hill called Tamas-Hegy, the first climb on the way to Recsec-Hegy. I didn’t know what to expect so just going for a walk to clear my mind and lungs was the worst I could get.

At the top there is tower, built for tourists like me to get a good view of the area. A great idea as without it all views wood be hidden in the woods. The strange thing was the silence at the start. No birds to hear, nothing rustling in the undergrowth. No other walkers. I’m not used to such isolation as well marked and easy to follow trails.

It was apparent by all the hunting towers that this was a popular area. For food or sport. Luckily today all was quiet. It wasn’t until I stopped for lunch, up the tower at Recsec-Hegy, that I heard the call of a stag in the woods. After that, there seemed to be things hiding everywhere, and as I turned into a valley for the homeward leg I startled a small deer. The only four-legged creature I saw, but the birds had found their voice and the woods had woodpeckers, chaffinch, a strange crow like bird, and other small winged creatures. Normality returned, perhaps they had a tough night?

At about 12 miles, and at best 400m it wasn’t the most strenuous of walks, but very pleasant and with plenty of greenery, and animal life to see in the end. Well signed by the National park, and open tracks mostly, which I’m glad of as in the narrower sections the spiders were doing their best to trap me. countless cobwebs and spiders, all of course becoming attached to me. I love an optimist. And they did work hard to try to slow me down. All in all a good day out. I’ll post photos in another post tomorrow.

Today, we have hit the beach again and done nothing except sit and read. I have finished John LeCarre’s Smiley series this holiday. An excellent read, I would recommend them to anyone. While watching, I found this little idea, watching the watchers so to speak.

Just called Touch.

Touch

A brush of a finger on a forearm,
a hand, reaching out, the turn of a head
to find the touch.

He sits, watching, smoking,
towel spread out, book,
waiting to be read.

All the while, someone leans across a table,
touches fingers to the curved neck beside them.
A gentle drawing under, skin to skin.

While he waits,
watching,
smoking.

Walking

I have this week completed the Butcombe Trail. A pub to pub walk on the Mendips created by the Butcombe Brewery to encourage people out into the countryside and also to their pubs. It has been a good experience and I have enjoyed walking in a group, friends and others who joined as we went along. So often I walk by myself in France and England and these walks bring a social life into what can be a solitary pastime.

So Well done Mike and John, who finished with me. And thanks to Pete the organiser of so much of this, and also to Kath, another Mike, Colin who joined us this time, Dave et al, see you all soon on the next outing. A footnote, Jeremy – where were you?

This is then, directed to the walking, alone and in a group that shows me what’s out there, and inside.

A Walk Among Friends

In a day, in a sight, a seed of memory of a place,
of dry grass underfoot or a carpet of flowers,
the wild garlic smell and the wind in the trees.
A line of people walking through green shade
and sun and changing time to the last turn,
last climb with nothing left but the end in sight.
We have nowhere else to go except to look around
and know more than before when I walked alone
in a green wood, when a blackbird sang and the cloud
cast a shadow, a reminder of mist on the ridge,
that showed us a slow step to the edge of the world.
Left me here looking across the levels, passing time
that moves colour as I draw a breath of rain soaked air
in a life that grows as a story whenever I look away.