To Cleeve Common

As I said at the end of the previous instalment, the scenery on top of Nottingham Hill (SO 981289) – why “Nottingham”? – was nothing like the climb: now we were in open country on a wide gravelled footpath with excellent views all around… (#1)  I took the picture after #2, and the "excellent view" is non-existent..).


The first man we met was a part-time drystone wall-er (#2), Gareth by name.  And he’s a Welshman, obviously!  So Chris and he swapped stories about home while I, the foreigner, listened in.  As you can see from the picture, Gareth’s an endlessly cheerful man. 

The farmer is being paid by Natural England (I think) to restore the wall that’s been there for 150 years.  It now needs rescuing from hawthorn and, more urgently, ivy.  Ivy roots seem to go right through the wall, feeding on the moisture they find inside and gradually breaking it up.  You can see the ivy roots in #2.  I was relieved to hear that there are three of them in the restoration team, so it’s not a full-time job for any of them. 

I admire anyone with the patience and skill to do such a job.  I remember, coming out of Stow on the Wold and stopping to congratulate another “dyker” who had finished a brilliant job at least half a mile long, all by himself; and God! he looked relieved.  Anyone who works hard to preserve this beautiful country the way it was or should be – rather than buggering it up with litter and God knows what else – deserves all the thanks he hardly ever gets.  (One gentleman I know builds his own d-s walls just for fun…)

Anyway, Gareth had soon finished his shift, so he passed us in his car with the words “Waiting for a bus..?” and we carried on over the hill to a small wood, full of mysterious mounds (#3) - Iron Age remains or an old quarry? - before crossing a road on to Cleeve Common, which was full of golfers.  No danger from the golfballs, but I nearly got hit by a runaway trolley; the ground there isn’t exactly flat.  I said to one golfer how lucky he was to have that beautiful course on his doorstep and he agreed heartily.

This time there were views.  Gareth had told about the three pylons on the horizon so we kept aiming for those.  But (frankly) our energy was running out, and the sight of #4 & #5 made us decide that the rest of the journey to Andoversford would just – have to wait!