Chesterblade - Sheep, Steam Engines and Squaddies

Almost a month has passed since we set off on our weekend adventure to Somerset, in pursuit of yet another Chester, this time Chesterblade, a hamlet just a few miles south of Shepton Mallet, the main town in the Mendip hills.

This was our second trip to Somerset, having visited the more famous Roman settlement of Ilchester in April 2014.  As with our last trip to Somerset, it was more convenient to get the bus than the train, so we found ourselves at Hammersmith bus station, after work on Friday evening, queuing up eagerly for Berry's coaches and our great journey to the West!

We've become very fond of Berry's coaches - the staff are really friendly and the bus driver kept us entertained as we trundled through the dark and barren landscape of Salisbury Plain.  We arrived in Shepton Mallet around 9pm and then followed the High Street towards the busy Bath Road and our accommodation at Mendip Lodge campsite.

Shepton Mallet High Street

Lodgings and victuals

I've stayed in yurts before, when I travelled to Mongolia in 2015, so I was quite excited to stay in a yurt again, but this time in England.  Mendip Lodge campsite was very quiet, because of the time of year, so there weren't actually any campers (quite cold to be in a tent).  We had some difficulty finding it in the dark, but the friendly owner, Maureen, guided us by phone until we found the entrance to the farm and our lodging for the night.

Candlelit lanterns at the yurt in Shepton Mallet

Maureen's husband Colin had prepared a fire in the yurt's stove, so it was very cosy when we arrived and the yurt looked absolutely magical in the flickering candle light.  We didn't have any victuals, as such, as we'd both eaten earlier, but we shared a bottle of wine and caught up on our respective lives, before preparing our beds and settling in for a good night's sleep.

Shepton Mallet inside the yurt

We absolutely loved the yurt, although it's by a busy road, so not as tranquil as we imagined it would be.  Yet, waking up in the morning, with late autumn sunlight streaming through the top 'window', then preparing breakfast in the nearby kitchen - it was a great adventure and brought us close to nature, whilst maintaining a level of comfort that is important at this time of the year!

Shepton Mallet yurt

Mendip Lodge campsite to Newman Street Farm (2.6 miles/4.2 kilometres)

We set out on our walk directly from the campsite - picking up a public footpath that brought us into a field which had some cows, lurking menacingly in the distance.  Rather than engage with the cows, we followed the footpath to Yellingmill Lane, then followed this lane way until it met up with Bolter's Lane.  We could see Beacon Hill and the Mendips, not far to the north, but we turned off Bolter's Lane at the curiously named Wagon and Horses Hill, before following the King's Road and then turning off on a track leading to Newman Street Farm.

Farmhouse near Shepton Mallet

Our path crossed the Fosse Way, a major Roman road from Exeter to Lincoln and one we've met, not only in Ilchester, but also in Leicester, when we walked there precisely four years ago.  The name fosse comes from the Roman word for ditch and it is little more than a track now, so it was barely noticeable, as we focused on the route I'd mapped out on my Ordnance Survey app.

Somerset countryside

As we walked, we talked about the recent visit of BAM (Best Aussie Mate)'s relatives from Australia and how wonderful it was to spend time with them.  Australia seemed like a very long way away, as we turned down the King's Road, with a picturesque corner of Somerset spread out in front of us and grey clouds scuttling overhead.

Sign post for East Mendip way

Newman Street Farm to Cranmore (3 miles/4.8 kilometres)

At Newman Street Farm we picked up the eastern part of the Mendip Way, a 50-mile walk from Weston-super-Mare to Frome.  We spoke briefly with a very friendly farmer at Temple House Farm, who pointed us in the right direction and we crossed a small lane and headed up along a slight incline in the direction of Cranmore Tower, a 19th-century folly, that was built on the site of a Roman settlement.

View towards Cranmore Tower

We didn't actually make it to the tower, as our path turned downhill again, along Dallimore Lane (more of a ditch really) to reach the houses at Dean, on the busy A361 road, the longest three-digit A road in the country.  As I have my fear of cows, so BAM has her fear of walking along busy roads, so it took a little bit of persuasion to get her to follow the A361 for 50 metres, until we picked up another public footpath on the far side of the road, which led us over a small hill, through a field, until we reached the village of Cranmore.

Walking towards Cranmore

Cranmore to Chesterblade (1.7 miles/2.7 kilometres)

We had a rather pleasant lunch in the churchyard of St Bartholomew's at Cranmore.  The name Cranmore means 'crane lake'.  We didn't see any cranes as we ate our lunch, but we could hear the huffing and puffing of the East Somerset steam railway, not far from the church.  By the time we'd finished our lunch and made it to Cranmore Station, the steam engine had vanished, like an illusion and we were left standing on the bridge, peering into the distance and wondering whether or not it had all been a figment of our imaginations, or a ghostly echo of times past.

St Bartholomew's Church in Cranmore

Cranmore railway station

From Cranmore, we followed the country lanes to Chesterblade and had another quick break in the churchyard of St Mary's Church, a very still and tranquil place that has a long history stretching back to the 12th century.

St Mary's Church in Chesterblade

Tree in churchyard of St Mary's Chesterblade

Chesterblade is one of the smallest Chesters we've ever visited and it seemed like a pleasant enough place, although there wasn't much going on there.

Commandment on Church wall in Chesterblade

Sign post for Evercreech

Chesterblade to Chelynch (3.2 miles/5.1 kilometres)

From St Mary's Church, we headed downhill along the Chesterblade Road, in the direction of Evercreech.  Less than a half a mile down the road, we reached the floor of a very small valley, where we looked for an ill-defined public footpath, taking us through some wildly overgrown fields until we reached Holcombe Farm and Holcombe Lane.

Countryside near Chesterblade

As we followed Holcombe Lane, across Brottens Road and under the railway bridge along Merryfield Lane, I told BAM all about my latest writing project.  We paused all conversation, as we carefully crossed the A361 again and made our way to Chelynch village.

Chelynch to Shepton Mallet (2.4 miles/3.9 kilometres)

At Chelynch, we picked up the Mendip Way again and followed this all the way back to Shepton Mallet, over Ingsdons Hill, where we could see Glastonbury Tor in the distance.  Not surprisingly, given its name, Shepton Mallet was famous for its wool industry, although we didn't see any sheep on our walk, just another herd of cows, who huddled in the corner of their field and looked at us wearily, as the rain came on.

View towards Glastonbury Tor

By the time we got to the railway viaduct at Shepton Mallet, it was raining heavily and we were keen to get back to our yurt and into some dry clothes before heading out for dinner. Someone stopped us in the street in Shepton Mallet to have a chat about life, travel and Northern Ireland, which would have been lovely, except for the fact he was quite drunk and it was raining heavily.

BAM walking towards Shepton Mallet

We also saw three rather drunken squaddies, getting soaked, as they were wearing only T-Shirts, but happily singing their way through a damp late afternoon, as they queued at the Co-op ATM, getting more money out to continue their revelry.

Myself and BAM had a rather less raucous, but arguably more pleasant evening, stuffing ourselves at Blostin's - a slightly expensive, but endearing restaurant on Waterloo Road.

115 miles to London

Access for wheelchair users

Sign post for Batcombe

The country roads and lanes around Shepton Mallet are fairly traffic-free, but this walk, in its entirety, would not be practical for a wheelchair user.  Probably the most interesting route for a wheelchair user would be from Chesterblade to Evercreech, then along Holcombe Lane and Merryfield Lane to Chelynch, although crossing the A361 might be a bit of a challenge.  

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All photos were taken by me - please feel free to reuse them under the following Creative Commons license:

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Ilchester - Monarchs, mud and the meaning of life

This was our first Chester walk in Somerset.  The South West isn't exactly famous for Roman settlements and Ilchester is one of the 'big three', which includes two other Chesters we've already visited, Exeter and Dorchester.  It's hard to believe that this little village in South Somerset was once a major Roman town and, for a while, in medieval times, the capital of Somerset.  Somerset itself is quintessentially English - posh schools, rolling hills, abbeys, floodplains, cheese and tacky seaside resorts!

As we do more of these Chester walks, we're starting to see a bigger picture emerge that somehow connects different parts of England together.  For example, Ilchester lies on an ancient Roman road called the Fosse Way, which links Exeter to Lincoln and also passes through Leicester, where we walked in November 2012.  Ilchester is linked to Dorchester, not by a road, but by a shared history, as the two main capitals of the Celtic Durotriges tribe.  It sometimes feels like a big historical jigsaw piece falling into place.

Transport, Lodging and victuals

Our trip to Ilchester started in the rather insalubrious setting of Hammersmith bus station!  We generally get the train to whichever Chester we're visiting but, oddly enough, it was more convenient to get a bus this time, the delightful Berry's coaches, which dropped us right in Ilchester village.

Road into Ilchester village

Coming from Ireland, I'm much more used to coach travel than train travel (actually, my home county, Donegal, no longer has a train service, so I first saw a train when I went on a school trip in my last year at Primary school!).  I'm also used to having a range of private companies, which often offer more competitive rates than the national/state provider.  Berry's coaches was my first experience of private coach travel in England and I have to say it was very comfortable and convenient.  It's a shame that travel is so dominated by the bigger companies who often charge us a small fortune for the journeys we make.

We were also very lucky with our choice of accommodation, the wonderful Liongate House B&B, just across the River Yeo, run by Liz and Graeme, a retired couple who are originally from Surrey.  They do a mean breakfast and provide a great welcome in their lovely converted barn house.  We had a pleasant dinner at the Ilchester Arms, as we had a glass of wine and caught up on the events in our lives.

Ilchester to Limington (1.2 miles/2 kilometres)

For various reasons, I'm writing this blog post a few weeks after we did the walk, so we actually did this walk at the beginning of April and the weather was incredibly gloomy and reminded me of previous walks we did at this time of the year in Shropshire and Worcestershire. I'd just come down with a cold that weekend, so the name 'Ilchester' seemed particularly apt, as that was exactly how I was feeling!

Ilchester Market place

Ilchester High Street

It was raining lightly as we walked down Church Street towards St Mary Major, then backtracked along Free Street, before heading out into the fields to the east of the village.  We followed part of the Monarch's Way for our Ilchester walk.  The Monarch's way is a 615 mile long-distance footpath, which runs from Worcester to Shoreham (just outside Brighton) and seems to zig-zag rather erratically through Somerset, as though the Monarch wasn't quite sure which direction he should be going in.

St Mary's Major, Ilchester

Marker showing the Monarch's Way

The Monarch in question was, of course, Charles II, who was fleeing Cromwell's army and eventually made his way to his Mummy in Paris.  We could feel his despondency, as we set off in the rain, trudging through the mud until we got to the little village of Limington.  Our route passed quite close to the village of Yeovilton, which is home to a major Navy air base and the military connection wasn't lost on us, as it's not the first time we've passed a modern military site which is built near an old Roman settlement!

Limington to Ashington (0.8 miles/1.3 kilometres)

Limington is a pretty little village in the Hundred of Stone. We've come across these hundreds before, notably 'the Hundred of Hoo' when we walked in Kent.  Hundreds are smaller divisions of counties and the distinction has mostly fallen out of use, which is a pity, as the names of the hundreds are often cute and amusing, like the Hundred of Chew or the Hundred of Catsash (I know, I also had to read this twice!), both in Somerset, or the Hundred of Willey (Bedfordshire), the Hundred of Puddletown (Dorset), the Hundred of Ham (also Kent), the Hundred of Holdshot (Hampshire).

Mill Stream near Limington

Other old-fashioned sub-county level divisions, include Baronies, Wapentakes, Ridings and Liberties and I find these names very quaint and, somehow, fitting for a place like Somerset, even in the 21st century! Bizarrely, Sussex was divided into Rapes and then Hundreds - so you could live in the Hundred of Steyning in the Rape of Bramber!

Limington St Mary's Church

Talking of rape, the dullness of a wet spring morning was lit up by the appearance of a field of rapeseed, just outside Ashington, a welcome splash of bright yellow, in an otherwise dull, green landscape.  I'd never seen fields of rape, before I moved to England and I'm still fascinated when travelling at this time of the year, to see the countryside transformed into a patchwork of green and gold.

Green and gold landscape outside Ashington

Ashington to West Mudford (0.6 miles/1 kilometre)

We had a little rest at Ashington, before following the road to the hamlet of West Mudford.  Ashington is part of a larger village called Chilton Cantelo, which is home to one of Somerset's many private boarding schools, this one being run by the Cognita group.  I'm not sure why Somerset has so many private boarding schools, but I guess it's far enough from anywhere to allow pupils to focus on their education, without access to the amenities of town life?  It's a part of English culture that I struggle to understand, but I sense it's every bit as important as Roman sites, military bases or hundreds and wapentakes!

The Parish Church of St James in Ashington

West Mudford

West Mudford to Mudford Sock (0.8 miles/1.3 kilometres)

From West Mudford we headed uphill, along a track called the Droveway Lane, almost reaching the A359, before turning left up Sock Hill, in the direction of Mudford Sock.  It definitely was quite muddy around Mudford, although easier walking on the country lanes than it had been through the fields.  Mudford Sock is a dairy farm and the cows eyed us up hopefully as we passed, mooing disappointingly, when they realised we hadn't come to feed them.

BAM walking on Droveway Lane

Sign post for Sock Dairy Farm

Mudford Sock to Yeovil (1.3 miles/2.1 kilometres)

From Mudford Sock we climbed a fairly steep hill along Stone Lane, turning left at the top, along the main Mudford Road, then right downhill along St Michael's Avenue.  Yeovil is a strange kind of place and I couldn't quite get my head around it, the dampness of an early afternoon shower, added to our confusion at the existence of a place like Yeovil.

Field of rape beside Stone Lane

Our conversation turned quite philosophical as we wondered about the meaning of life for people in Yeovil, and in countless other places like Yeovil - family dramas and passion, loss, sadness and joy - people whose lives will never touch our own, people we'll probably never know or meet, unless we bump into them in a bar in Maspalomas or Limassol.  It's hard to imagine the myriad of other lives in the world, with people living them as best they can but, in a way, being irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.  It's not the first time we thought about this, as we've walked through different towns in England - the sheer number of lives being lived in the world is something I still struggle to get my head around!

A wet Saturday afternoon in Yeovil

Middle Street, Yeovil

Yeovil to the Fish Tower (1.1 miles/1.6 kilometres)

Perhaps it was karma that we got lost just outside Yeovil, no doubt Yeovil's revenge for our apparent apathy!  But it's confusing when you come into Yeovil country park, with all of the local walking routes and signposts, we lost the Monarch's way and ended up going the long way round Ninesprings to the Dorchester Road.

Rock formations in Ninesprings country park

We met a lovely woman who was walking her dogs and pointed us back in the right direction, towards the Fish Tower on Two Tower Lane.  The park alongside Two Tower lane contains, what could only be described as an assault course for dogs.  I can safely say that I've never seen so many dog walkers in one place and, along with the two follies (the Fish Tower and the Rose Tower) that give the lane its name, it was turning into a very surreal afternoon!

The Fish Tower

Doggie assault course

The Fish Tower to Stoford (0.7 miles/1.1 kilometres)

We left the Monarch's way again at the Fish Tower and followed a really lovely path through a majestic field leading to Barwick House, one of the most elegant country houses I've ever seen.  There's something quite feng shui about the location of the house, what with the lake curving around in front of it and the protection of the hills around.  It once housed prisoners of war, then delinquent teenage boys from England's inner cities - nowadays the house is privately owned.

Barwick House

There is another folly in the grounds of Barwick House which has the unusual name of Jack the Treacle Eater - apparently Jack was a messenger boy, who sustained himself on treacle!  From the end of Barwick House Lane we turned right into Rex's Lane and made our way through the village of Barwick and into a hamlet called Stoford, where we finished our walk.

Jack the Treacle eater

We ended our walk at The Royal Oak pub in Stoford, the name being a nod towards Charles II, I guess. As it was the day of the Grand National, the main bar was pretty packed with convivial locals, so we retired to the solitude of the lounge, where we had some food and a couple of drinks before making our way to Yeovil Junction station and the train back to London.

Stoford village green

Access for wheelchair users:

It was a bit muddy around Mudford!

The first part of the walk, from Ilchester to Ashington, was through fields and, therefore, not accessible - however, there is a country lane linking Ilchester, Limington and Ashington, which covers more-or-less the same route.  From Ashington onwards the route was completely accessible, except the path through the field from Fish Tower to Barwick House.  Alternatives to this path would be via the Newton or Dorchester Roads.  Wheelchairing along roads which also contain traffic is, of course, at your own risk, however, the roads seemed fairly quiet on a wet April afternoon!

Image credits: All photos were taken by me - please feel free to reuse them under the following Creative Commons license:

Attribution (especially to this blog post)
Share-alike
Non-commercial