[CONTINUATION...]
Well, where do you head after abruptly leaving a far-flung western corner of Scotland?
Hmm, how about Kent, in the far south-eastern tip of England?
But, the thing is, it was a very long journey, and the Kentish campsite that we’d pre-booked was so busy that particular weekend that they couldn’t accommodate us a few days early. (Thankfully, it was quiet again by the time we did get there, mid-week.) So, we ended up moseying down the country, finding other places to stay on the way.
First, we enjoyed a pleasant and solitary picnic stop at Barnard Castle in County Durham, including a short walk and eye test as per Dominic Cummings. (That reminds me: we really must check out ‘Barnard Castle Eye Test’, Brewdog’s limited edition, blurrily labelled IPA craft beer, the ‘short-sighted beer for tall stories’.)
After the picnic stop and more gruelling travel, we had a really comfy overnight stay at Leicester-Markfield Travelodge, right next to the M1 motorway. We’ve stayed here sometimes in the past to break up long north-south journeys. The various reception staff have, without fail, always been the friendliest, most helpful bunch of guys – and that spot beside the M1 really feels like a bit of a home from home for us now.
We then continued south-east to camp in Essex. Yup, that’s right – Essex.
What do you mean, no-one holidays in Essex? Surely many people must flee Scottish downpours and gales and make a beeline straight for Essex!
(In truth, the campsite turned out to be close to the county borders of Essex, Hertfordshire and Cambridgeshire, and I’m not sure exactly which side of the border it was, but Essex sounds just fine to me.)
En route between the M1 Travelodge and the Essex campsite, we visited Leicestershire’s enchanting Rutland Water, taking a walk around some of the reservoir’s wooded perimeter. Unexpected beauty really can be found in all sorts of places.
We then headed to Audley End House and Gardens, an English Heritage property, for our booked visitor time slot.
It must be said that England does historic stately homes and castles rather well, whether National Trust, English Heritage or private venture. Such edifices are indisputably fascinating to look around, whatever statement they may make regarding underlying privilege and inequality. (And at least, these days, anyone can visit on payment of the appropriate entrance fee towards maintenance.)
COVID restrictions meant that not all the internal areas of Audley End were open, but it was intriguing to wander along the river banks and amongst ancient trees in the extensive grounds, inspect the formal gardens, and visit the servants’ quarters whilst observing strict social distancing and wearing face coverings.
[Use arrows or swipe to scroll photos] Audley End House and Gardens, Essex, England, including intricate detailing on a door ringer, an enormous kitchen range in the servants’ quarters, and a net-windowed outbuilding for hanging game from the estate – a reminder of how ‘complete’ (if self-serving) the entirety of life was at these country estates, both ‘above stairs’ and ‘below stairs’.
Audley End has a long, chequered history, peppered with extravagance, downfall and restoration. Before the 1066 Norman conquest, the large manor of Walden was located here. After 1066, a castle then the town of Saffron Walden were established, followed (in the 12th century) by a Benedictine Abbey. This survived for ~400 years, until suppressed during the religious persecution of Henry VIII’s 16th century Reformation. Ownership then passed to Thomas Audley, Lord Chancellor and former Speaker of the House of Commons, and continued down the generations sometimes via scandals, corruption and disgrace.
The property’s impressive Jacobean aspect was designed and built in the early 17th century on the scale of a royal palace, making it one of England’s greatest houses. Mid-17th century amendments included an impressive but embittered remodelling of the grounds (1760s) by the renowned landscape architect, Capability Brown. In the early 18th century, the property was reduced right back to the inner court, before before partially rebuilt outwards again with trees added back into the denuded landscape (late 18th century). The final major reworking (early 19th century) restored the Jacobean character and many formal elements of the gardens, followed by ownership under a long line of ‘Baron Braybrooke’s.
Finally, the property was requisitioned in 1941 for war use as the HQ of the Polish Section of the Special Operations Executive, before being bought for the nation in 1948, with English Heritage taking over its guardianship in 1984 – and it continues today as one of English Heritage’s flagship properties.
[Use arrows or swipe to scroll photos] Lynchets Farm campsite and Icknield Way at Great Chishill.
Really, it was quite by chance that we found ourselves at the small campsite of Lynchets Farm, a Camping and Caravan Club ‘certificated site’, after visiting Audley End. What a star find! As with most ‘certificated sites’, the facilities were happily basic and clean (one toilet, one shower, one handwashing sink, one dishwashing sink), but the panoramic views were absolutely stunning!
I particularly enjoyed walking along part of the Icknield Way, which comes close to the campsite. This 170 mile trail is arguably one of the oldest tracks in Britain, first appearing in Neolithic times (about 5000 years ago) as an ancient trading route along a grassy chalk ridge. On either side of the ridge, the soil is heavy clay, which, in Neolithic times, would have been thick with vegetation and not easily passable.
In the gently rolling countryside, I came across big views, traditional haystacks (no plastic wrap!), an old-fashioned steam roller and the hugest wild damsons I have ever seen in a British hedgerow.
[Use arrows or swipe to scroll photos] Chishill Windmill, old millstone and roof thatch detail on a local house in Great Chishill.
I have something of a passion for mills. Corn mills, cotton mills, timber mills, silk mills. Watermills, windmills, tidemills. Undershot, overshot, breastshot, backshot. Post mills, smock mills, tower mills. You name it! Not only are mills aesthetically pleasing, but they also uniquely appeal to my thirst for detail across a broad range of subjects: science, technology, engineering, industrial heritage, socio-economic history, literary (consider just why fairytales have so many poor/dishonest millers...).
So, when I saw something called Chishill Windmill on my map, a lovely countryside walk from the campsite, I had to see it right away.
It is one of a handful of open trestle post mills left in the UK, Grade 2 listed & the only one still with a fan tail. (Post mills are supported on & revolve around a central upright post to face into the wind. Open trestle means that the timber supports at the base are left exposed, not enclosed inside a brick roundhouse.)
Post mills first arrived in Britain approx. late 1100s. The one at Chishill was built in the early 1800s on the site of an earlier mill. Its working life ended abruptly in the 1950s when a severe winter freeze followed by stormy weather damaged the tail so badly that the windmill had to be secured in position for the next ~65 years.
Occasional restoration work was carried out (e.g., 1966) but it was clear by 2011 that further work was needed to prevent collapse & preserve the mill for future generations. Through local impetus, fundraising & grants, the windmill reopened in June 2019 with a repaired tail structure and mechanism. And, on Sun 27 Sep 2020, just 5 weeks after our visit, it became the UK’s only open trestle post mill to turn once more upon its post, driving itself into the wind.
It has now been secured into place once again, awaiting further safety work (e.g., shielding the driving gears and wheels) and risk assessments to help in the decision as to whether the windmill can be left unsupervised to turn on its post as the wind direction changes. The main sails also need restoring before they can be set free to turn. But the progress so far is amazing. (Great Chishill Windmill Trust welcomes donations no matter how large or small at http://www.greatchishillwindmill.com/appeal.html for anyone who wishes to support the restoration work.)
The final destination of our five week tour was the delightful Battle Hill Farm campsite at Kenardington on the edge of Romney Marsh near Ashford in Kent.
Romney Marsh in the far south-east corner of the UK is a very special place. As the closest point to the European mainland, it is edged and crossed with many historic fortifications, structures and sites, such as Walmer, Deal, Dover & Camber castles, Martello towers such as that at Dymchurch, the expensive, ill-fated, now beautiful Royal Military Canal, and the battleground of 1066 near Hastings, 1066 being the last time England was invaded.
There are quaint towns and villages (e.g., Rye and Dymchurch), the Romney, Hythe & Dymchurch light railway, miles upon miles of flat cycling country amongst small watercourses and fields dotted in summer with traditional haybales, the legend of 18th century Dr Syn (vicar by day, smuggler by night), long beaches (e.g., sandy, popular but treacherous Camber Sands), and wildlife sanctuaries (notably the long, windswept promontory of Dungeness).
Most days, we cycled past the beautiful, isolated St Thomas à Becket Church situated in a field on the marsh, which once served the long-disappeared village of Fairfield.
[Use arrows or swipe to scroll photos] St Thomas à Becket Church in Fairfield, traditional haystacks, learning to cycle ‘hands free’ and farmers’ signs – Romney Marsh, Kent, England.
Legend has it that St Thomas à Becket (Archbishop of Canterbury from 1162 until his murder in Canterbury Cathedral in 1170) was journeying across the dangerous Romney Marsh when he fell into one of its many ditches. Coming up for air a second time and praying for salvation, a farmer arrived just in time to save him. In gratitude, the Archbishop had the little church built and dedicated.
The original 12th century church was a simple structure of timber and lath. In the 18th century (Georgian period), it was encased within brick walls with heavy red roof tiles added. The church was regularly surrounded by water during winter and spring, but a causeway was built out to it in 1913, at the same time as significant renovation work took place.
Thankfully, much of the original roof timber was left intact during the renovations, as was the Georgian interior. One of the church’s strangest features, apart from its location, is its plain, seven-sided font, a design unique in Kent.
Of course, the girls were more interested in perfecting their hands-free cycling technique – and where more suited to such an endeavour than the miles and miles of scenic, completely flat, almost car-free country lanes of Romney Marsh. A short, steep climb uphill and immediately back downhill from the campsite took us straight out onto the flat marsh as far as the eye could see and, before long, Poppy had mastered the skill in the same place that May had done two years before. (And they were both amazed that I could do it too. I’m certain that children think adults lose all capability!)
We enjoyed one more lovely countryside walk, this time with my dad, brother and dog when they popped over to the campsite for a short visit, followed by a mellow chilling around our campfire, glass of wine in hand, watching satellites and a shooting star overhead, and reflecting on the variety, freedom and enjoyment of our summer adventures.
We’d always know that we had a responsibility to do our utmost to avoid catching COVID-19 and spreading it around the country like bees pollinating flowers. We wouldn’t have forgiven ourselves otherwise. So, we stayed off the beaten track, avoided stopping at even a single motorway or highway service station and took great care when meeting others (almost wholly for outdoor walks). And we were pleased that our precautions seemed to have paid off – based on negative COVID tests that three out of the four of us were randomly invited to take part in shortly after returning home, either as part of one-off antibody surveys or weekly mass testing trials.
So, all in all, a wonderful summer, seeing parts of the UK both familiar and new to us ... even if it hadn’t been quite the travels we’d originally planned! I wonder what next year will bring...
