Walking the One-track Paths

I came to England to walk the footpaths, and walk the footpaths I shall. On Saturday night I sat down at the kitchen table with a pile of walking books and pamphlets to plan out my first Cotswold walk. As I slightly mourned (okay, whined about) the loss of my two books (left behind at home), my mother rummaged through a stack of books on the shelves and triumphantly produced copies of the missing books. Between those books, my other books, and a stack of other materials from the cottage, I had enough options to walk for the rest of the summer.

I actually had in mind a route that I had seen in a couple of books, a five mile loop beginning in Chipping Campden, climbing Dover’s Hill (an escarpment boasting magnificent views of the Vale of Evesham), and looping around a region called Weston Park before returning to Chipping Campden. Before discovering the route in another book, I had copied the directions out of a hardback picture book. So I had two versions of directions; the complex version in the walk book, and the rather simpler version from the coffee table book. This walk seemed especially ideal because not only did it start in Chipping Campden, it began in the street adjoining our own Birdcage Walk!

I set out around 6:30 or 6:45 on Sunday morning, carrying the walk book, my own copied out directions, and my ordnance survey Explorer map, OL 45 (The Cotswolds). In my backpack I carried chocolate and Pria bars, a bottle of water, my camera and my ipod. All the necessities!

I began with an unnecessary detour into the center of town in a misguided attempt to follow the directions to the letter. As I retraced my steps (something which would become all too familiar a pattern), I passed by the Catholic church on the corner near our cottage. There I nodded good morning to a priest out walking a miniature dachsund, who I heard him call Benedict, a very appropos name!


My walk proper began in Hoo Lane, just adjacent to our own Birdcage Walk, and continued up a very long hill. This eventually led me to the top of Dover's Hill, where I took many pictures of the incredible view and sheep in the field. (I just can't resist taking pictures of sheep—even though the sheep on Dover's Hill look just like the sheep by Broadway and the sheep between Chipping and Broad Campden.) I've often thought, when the U.S. agriculture officials at Customs ask whether I've been on a farm or field, that all they would have to do is take a look at my pictures—including an inevitable one of me amongst a flock of sheep—to learn the true answer to that question!)

English country walking is littered with words and phrases which are fairly unique to this activity. Most of them I know, or have learned the meaning of, such as....
Stile—basically a step or steps to climb over a fence. This is a nice wooden stile. Sometimes they are made of stone and are even more picturesque. Many of the stiles are being replaced by gates and kissing gates, which can make for a bit of confusions when your guidebook says to climb a stile and you find a gate instead!
Waymark—a small marker indicating the direction of a footpath (see waymarks on both the stile and gate here).

Kissing gate—a gate which allows walkers to pass through but keeps out animals. The gate shuts at either side of an enclosure, and the walker has to step into the enclosure before swing the gate to the other side allowing passage.


This picture shows a gate, not a kissing gate.

But on Dover's Hill I encountered two terms that I am still a little unsure of. At the top of Dover's Hill there is a "trig point" or "triangulation marker," which I located as a stone marker. Apparently there is a surveying meaning to it as well, which can be found at Trig point - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. I could not find the meaning of a "topograph," but perhaps it means some kind of high point in the terrain, as it is undoubted related to Topography - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

My walking instructions threw those terms about freely, but neglected to acknowledge that upon leaving Dover's Hill you pass through a car park (perhaps fearing that reading about a car park would lead potential walkers to drive to Dover's Hill instead), thus leading to some confusion on my part about whether to turn left or right leaving the car park (first I went left, then turned back and went right, then turned again and went back to Dover's Hill, then tried right again and this time went far enough to find my next marker).

I was able to continue merrily along for a while, so merrily that I failed to count the number of stiles I was climbing, and after walking to the bottom of a long, steeply hilly field full of cows, I found myself—dare I say—disoriented.

There was nothing to do but climb back up the hill and reevaluate whether I had taken a wrong turn somewhere. But horrors, when I got to the top of the hill there was no stile! Mild panic ensued—very mild because I was pretty sure I would find the stile if I just followed the edge of the field. And so I did. Back at the last stile, I studied the directions again, looked around, and wondered if perhaps the gravel road at the bottom of the field which I had considered a dead-end was in fact the track I was supposed to cross en route to the next set of stiles. I realized, as I clambered back down the field, that in my efforts to keep away from the cows (though luckily there were no bulls among them), I had stayed too close to the edge of the field, which prevented me from looking ahead to my proper destination.

I would like to say that the rest of the walk was without incident, and for the most part it was. I certainly don't recall any more incidents which led me to fear being trapped in a field forever! In fact, shortly thereafter my route changed to a road for some distance, which I soon recognized as the road from Saintbury to Chipping Campden that I walked last year with Jenifer. Although we had the ordnance survey maps to guide us, Jenifer and I did not have the walking book I have now, which soon directed me off the terribly busy road onto a portion of the Cotswold Way footpath which leads directly into Chipping Campden. In fact, this last part of the walk had the best, and most self evident, direction of all: "The path bears right, heading downhill in the direction of the church." The remainder of the walk took me into Chipping Campden and right into Birdcage Walk and the back door to Spring Cottage!

By the time I got back around 9:30 a.m., Sunday morning was already bright and sunny, and we decided to spend a leisurely day pottering around the cottage and Chipping Campden. So around midday we strolled out the door and down the street into the village.

Chipping Campden is surely one of the loveliest Cotswold villages, chock-a-block with golden stone buildings of all shapes and sizes, some already festooned with summery window boxes and hanging baskets. It is a popular town with tourists, but on this Sunday in late spring there were only enough people on the streets and sidewalks to make it seem friendly, not congested, even though Chipping Campden is in the midst of a music festival. The village has plenty of shops to amuse and supply a visitor or resident. A fair number sell gifts, souvenirs, and clothing, but there is also a greengrocer, a butcher, two bakeries, a delicatessan, a pharmacy, a small shop selling grocery staples and sundries, two tearooms, at least a couple of pubs, and several restaurants which are probably quite good (and expensive). Of course there are also several hotels, numerous bed and breakfasts (including both tearooms), and who knows how many holiday cottages availabe to rent.

There are also at least two real estate agents selling houses and property in the area. I have already picked out my cottage, just around the corner from Spring Cottage in Hoo Lane—in fact it is called Hoo Cottage. I think it is an ideal location, close to the village centre and right on the path to Dover's Hill. Now all I need is a lottery win so I can afford it, a bargain at £425,000! (Yes, that's pounds, and at today's exchange rate it would be... http://www.x-rates.com/calculator.html).





Leaving behind Hoo Cottage, we strolled into the village and down the High Street, eventually looping around to Chipping Campden's "wool church", Saint James' Church, Chipping Campden. It was only around 12:30 or so, and the church did not open for touring until later in the afternoon, so I decided it might be nice instead to come back for the Evensong service at 6:30 p.m. As we walked on we heard music, and quickly determined that it was one of the concerts from the music festival.
I peeked into the enclosed garden where the performance was, and although I didn't have a ticket, I was able to walk inside for a moment and have a view of the band and the audience, seated on the lawn at tables and on blankets.



It was a lovely moment, and a perfect day for an outdoor concert.

We made our way back to the cottage, stopping in the deli and small grocery for a few purchases, then at the Tourist Information Center to pick up brochures and yet a few more books on various walks and routes in the Cotswolds. I have (yet another) new interest—walking the entire Cotswold Way from Chipping Campden to Bath (or vice versa), a trip of about 100 miles.

But that's another trip. For today, I carried my guidebooks back to the cottage and concentrated on the matters at hand—baking scones for our afternoon tea, then of course eating them with plenty of clotted cream!

The day did not end with tea and scones, however. I still planned to go to the Evensong Service at St. James. I really liked the idea of participating in a "real" village activity. (Speaking of villages and churches, that brings to mind the movie Crush, which was filmed in Chipping Campden and involved the headmistress of the village school and the church organist. I wonder if the church was St. James?) Anyhow, I dragged my parents out of the cottage and back into the village, down to the church at the far end. As we approached the church it appeared strangely quiet for a Sunday evening, ten minutes before the service. I learned why when I approached the entryway—Evensong had been cancelled due to an interfaith service, behind held at the Catholic church just steps from our cottage! So much for my attempt at churchgoing.

Instead, I spent the remainder of the evening on a bench in the center of town, working on my blog.