Rambling Pete on Walking Places

The Wessex Ridgeway 2014

Day Six: 11th September

Weather: Mixture of sunshine and clouds. Misty once more

Route: Iwerne Minster to Melbourne Manor - 14 Miles

A pleasant evening in the pub at Iwerne Minster, quiet and relaxing, as you would expect in this small village. Another bright and sunny day and I paid a visit to the local store for a sandwich, freshly made as I waited. Those are the best, and I might have bought a chocolate or two. Loaded up for the day I set out along the streets and was soon passing through local pasture and lanes, watching the buck toothed Alpacas trying to out stare me. Having crossed several fields and a very overgrown track the prominent Hill Fort upon Hambledon Hill could be seen ahead, a short sharp rise to the top, and an equally short sharp drop down the other side. Passing through Iwerne Courtney had me looking over some lovely buildings before ascending up to the Hill Fort. The local ladies were out on their Thelwell horses enjoying the sunshine as they descended off the hill passing the local cricket pitch. What a lovely setting for a cricket match and I could imagine settling down with a big hamper and plenty of refreshment to while away sometime watching the batsman make futile attempts at hitting a boundary up the slopes. I’d have thought many a good shot would stop short of the boundary ropes, and many a fielder would be knackered by the time they had chased it uphill. It’s a sharp bright light that’s reflected up off the chalk tracks, and a steady plod to the top to reach the trig point. The Wessex Ridgeway route didn’t venture over to the impressive bank and ditches of the fort, it just veered left at the top passing features such as a Neolithic Camp, a Long Barrow and a Cross Dyke, none of which could be clearly seen on the ground. The descent down was equally steep, and I took it easy for the sake of my knees, marvelling at the views over to the fort and the village of Child Okeford. A lovely start to the day, hot and sunny with bees buzzing around the fields everywhere. Crossing the River Stour floodplain I passed the old school buildings at Hanford Farm and struggled to follow the path through the yard, but emerged out onto pasture leading up to a footbridge over the Stour. Surprisingly I was a bit peckish already so decided an early lunch was called for as I sat quietly mid bridge. Imagine the delight at the flight of two splendid Kingfishers flying in tandem above the river, disappearing in a flash of turquoise blue and orange, and on the other side a visitation by a herd of bullocks led to water by the warm sun to quench their thirst and have a dump in the river at the same time – one of the reasons you should never take a drink from low lying water. Peaceful break over it was time to get back up on the higher ground and another steady ascent up Okeford Hill, this time through woods, with the air quite heavy today and humid. Up on the top of the hill the route stuck turned to the south west through large fields with hazy views to either side of the ridgeway. Up here is Ringmoor and Turnworth Down where on a good clear day the views stretch over to Purbeck and the Isle of Wight. There’s an Iron Age enclosure here, old field boundaries and tracks. I wish I’d had time to look these over but I had miles to walk, and I’d had lunch, and the views weren’t views just a hazy patchwork of arable land below the chalk downs. The track down from Bell Hill ran down and joined a small road, and the Wessex Ridgeway route took to tarmac for the next two miles all the way to the next viewpoint at Bulbarrow Camp and another delightful Hill Fort at Rowlsbury Camp, a five acre Iron Age hill fort, is situated on a promontory of the hill. Little remains of the camp except the twin embankments and intermediate ditch which surrounded it and a medieval track crosses the ridge and descends down to the valley below, passing by Skinners Bottom and Balmers Coombe Bottom – what is it about bottoms that they like so much down in this part of the country? What was a little jarring and in my opinion out of place was a steel cross adorning one of the banks – not necessary and not really relevant in this place – don’t even know why it’s there. From the top I could see the hill at Melcombe Horsey, knowing my destination was just three miles away up a steady ascent through a never ending series of fields and rough tracks. I suppose this was the way that our ancestors got about, and I dare say they got nettled as well – I should advise that you should carry a thrashing stick for general thrashing, poking, and a bit of support now and again. On the way up the lane towards Melcombe Park Farm was a slatted wooden bench adorned with prose about the county of Dorset, very well placed to sit and ponder the remains of the day on the way to the Dorsetshire Gap. Except I saved that for the morning and chopped the corner off to walk the last ascent up Nordon Hill to finally look down on the site of Melcombe Manor and the old medieval remnants in the field below. Not much to see really, some old lines of hedgerow and some earthworks with the old farm and manor beyond. A short walk downhill and I arrived at the splendid Melcombe Manor, a really beautiful setting of house and gardens. Up the gravelled driveway with dusty boots crunching the stone, I arrived at the double doors and rang the bell....no reply. So I took my boots off and padded into the wonderful hallway wondering if anyone would arrive to show me to my room for the night. Eventually the lady of the Manor walked through announcing to the air in general – ‘you must be the hiker, I fell of my f....ing horse’. With that she showed me the lounge and took me up the servants stairway to a really nice room up on the top floor. The house begged to be explored which I did the next morning before leaving – superb. The evening hadn’t finished there as after a shower and change I had a mile or two walk down to the Fox Inn at Ansty for some nosh. Passing through the lounge the lady of the Manor was having a pedicure, head wrapped in towel and briefly waving me on the way with a royal flick of the wrist – brilliant way to run a B&B. I had a nice meal down at Ansty, but having walked all the way down I didn’t fancy the walk back up to the manor so enquired of the bar staff if there was a taxi locally or anyone willing to give a tired traveller a much needed lift. Once again the good folk of Wiltshire and Dorset came to the rescue and the owner let one of the staff run me back up the road. Needless to say I paid him a suitable fare despite him setting off the wrong direction. The people I’d met were making this route enjoyable regardless of the landscapes walked through.