Cotswold clouds

The other evening, Andy returned from work and immediately whisked me off on the motorbike (I just had time to grab my camera and helmet). Apparently the views up on the Shipton Downs, a five minute drive away at the top of a long, wide hill, were spectacular. And so they were. Here we had a 180 degree panoramic view of the Cotswolds and the amazing cloud spectacle on display.

This next picture is not very remarkable, but if you look right through to the back, you can see a faraway sunlight hill with deep shadowed runnels. This is the Uffington White Horse in the next county, Wiltshire, which I mentioned in my previous post.

I pushed my zoom as far it it would go, to see if I could pick up the white horse itself. I just about managed it, though the picture quality is poor. It is that little pale wormy thing scriggling down the hillside, just above the two fence posts in the foreground. It is actually about 23 miles away, so to be able to see it with the naked eye (or at least, a camera) is credit to our ancient ancestors who created it.

Back to breathtaking views - and clouds.

This is the crossroads we stand at, when we want to survey our kingdom. The bench is a recent addition, to the memory of a local man.

All around us we could see isolated cloudbursts, this one looked particularly heavy, a white stream plunging down into the land.

On the way home, we found another side of it. Here we were standing in bright, hot evening sunshine and somewhere over there, no doubt other people were wondering if it was monsoon season.

One final gorgeous scene, harvest stacks and, somewhere flying low to the horizon, three crows.

White horse at Pewsey Downs 25/7/10

As usual I have kept all pictures to a decent size, so do click for more detail.

It has been such a long time since we were able to get out for a walk; I have been tied to my painting board with another deadline and am only just getting back into the swing of things now that I am free. But our last walk, at the end of July, was a wonderful day spent on the Pewsey Downs, in nearby Wiltshire, one of my favourite counties; although it is technically *Cotswolds*, it has a very different feel.

Here the landscape spreads before you with a swan-like grace. The chalk downs and broad, open skies are windswept and airy - a clean atmosphere that leaves the walker refreshed and gasping for more.

We are climbing up to the Pewsey white horse, cut into the chalk hillside, starting a long circular walk that will take several hours, approaching the horse from the left. Unlike the ancient Uffington white horse, it is a modern monument, dating back to 1937, though it replaced an earlier one which dated from the late 1700s. It stands cheek by jowl with a proper earth antiquity, the Iron Age barrow 'Adams Grave' which we bypassed, as it was crawling with Other People. (Don't worry, we will pop in on the way back when it is less occupied). We headed for the horse, and searched for a quiet picnic spot.

I know of few better places to eat al fresco than high up on the Downs overlooking the Pewsey Vale - the earth seems to go on forever.

Far below us we were amused to see the throngs milling about a famous *magical* Wiltshire crop circle - beyond nestles the village where our next stopping point, the Barge Inn beckons - that is the largish building with two chimneys, at about one o'clock in the distance. There is a better picture of the crop circle here.

Full of baguette, pork pies, boiled egg and cake, we set off past the horse, just seen cut off here, sloping to the left.

Now we are going down the hill, towards the bright green patch in the middle of fields where the farmer is combining in his rapeseed crop.

The dry, shallow earth is covered with tiny, jewel-like wild flowers and herbs, where butterflies and insects enjoy a sadly rare rich habitat.

Here we are right down in the Vale, looking back to the white horse just up there on the hill, where we had our picnic. And there goes the combine harvester.

Down here the colours seem flattened, although the clouds still sail gloriously across the big sky.

White horse now just to the right edge.

Soon we are in the pretty village of Pewsey, walking on towards the canal.

Seen here from the bridge, the trail takes us down to the footpath which runs alongside the canal.

We don't lose sight of the white horse - there it is, just through the hedgerow.

And again, faintly behind this barge, on the hilltop beyond.

Nearly time for a pint, and I fall in love with this big Dutch barge - surely enough room in there for us, four cats, several thousand books and various gubbins? Andy thinks not.

The Barge is one of my favourite pubs; it has an relaxed, easy atmosphere, much loved by bikers, bargees, travellers and anyone who appreciates tolerance and informality. The beer is excellent too.

I could have sat there all afternoon, but there are a few miles to cover yet and we carry on along the towpath. Andy speeds ahead to the red brick bridge which we ascend to, to begin closing the circle.

A bit of road walking here and still the horse remains the pivot of our walk.

We find a poor dead dragonfly and it is secreted away in a picnic box - dragonflies preserve very well and dried out, make sweetly macabre ornaments.

Off the road and past more cottages, to the start of our return.

Almost time to begin the big climb up to the long barrow up there.

Not only the chalk horse here, (just visible on the horizon) but three real ones too.

The route to the summit of Adam's Grave long barrow is long, slow and a bit of a slog, especially after the miles behind us.

But the views are quite glorious. The sun has vanished and so have the tourists. A chilly wind sweeps the wild grasses as evening descends and still we hear the soft drone of combine harvesters bringing in the crops.

Andy has got ahead of me again and is a tiny speck atop the hummock.

Eventually, I get there too.

The sun comes out for a last burst, as we head back towards the motorbike, weary in leg, refreshed in spirit.

Belas Knap & Winchcombe

At the end of June we escaped across the border to visit nearby Belas Knap, a prehistoric monument situated in the heart of the Cotswolds. Along the way we stopped on a top road to look across to our eventual destination - the wooded area covering the horizon. But first I wanted to pop into Winchcombe, a bustling little town which has stood here for over a thousand years.

If I were holidaying in the Cotswolds, I might get somewhat tired of reading recommendations to visit the usual tourist hotspots. Where else, I might ask, can I see unspoilt buildings and absorb heritage, without the droves of coaches and sweaty crowds, without tacky souvenir shops and half a dozen tearooms? The answer would be - visit Winchcombe, a real, living, breathing town with bundles of history and individual shops, galleries and pubs which not only cater for the always welcome visitors, but for the locals as well.

My reason for popping in was to say hello to a couple of Twitter friends who have businesses within whistling distance of each other - just to put names to faces. On the main High Street is a wonderful old fashioned toyshop called Sprogs, crammed with the most gorgeous array of new and modern playthings. I defy anyone to enter it and not emerge with some treasure, be it for themselves or a gift for a lucky child. I treated myself to a tin kaleidoscope. Sadly it was the owner's day off, so no Twitter meet up, but I did have the pleasure of talking to their assistant, who looked after me splendidly.

Next on my list was the Winds of Change Gallery, just along the road, where I introduced myself again and was given the warmest of welcomes and a little tour. Although it is a modest size, it is beautifully laid out with a wide ranging and ever changing display of fine arts and crafts.

My visit had to be fairly quick though, despite the kind offer of coffee in the courtyard, which I will be taking up next time. We were headed to nearby Belas Knap, about a mile out of town. Parking the bike, we had spectacular views across to Winchcombe and beyond. If you look down you can just see Sudely Castle, nestling in the landscape with historic grace as it has done for centuries.

The walk up to Belas Knap is fairly short - about a mile or more - but it is all uphill. The views are worth it though. Here we can see across to our first stopping point on the top road coming in - a little wisp of smoke just to the right being our landmark, which we saw from the other side as we looked over a couple of hours previously.

It was a hot, muggy day and the sheep were taking refuge under the hawthorns, soaking in the coolness from the drystone walls.

By the time we got almost to the top, we had even better views.

I'm not an ancient historian, so I won't attempt to give a potted history of this beautiful site. It's basic shape can be seen below. A number of skeletons were excavated from it in the mid-nineteenth century and since then the side chambers have been faithfully reconstructed and left open to the public.

Coming off the footpath and entering the site, with a large, false chamber heading the earthwork.

The first north-eastern chamber, which is open. At this time of year the barrow is covered with sweet Wild Thyme, Lady's Bedstraw and Scabious. If you are lucky enough to be there alone, all that can be heard is the wind skating across the hilltop and skylarks carolling as they bounce over the surrounding fields. No wonder the ancients chose it as a sacred site.

The other end, the Southern entrance.

And coming round, the Western entrance, also open and pleasant to sit inside for five minutes, listening to the density of earth and stone around you; the silence is thick.

Feeling quieter and somehow refreshed from a half hour spent pottering around this wonderful monument, we descended back down the track to the bike, with the Cotswolds and beyond spread out in glory beneath us.