History of the British countryside, part 2

Following on from my previous post, here is...

A simplified history of the British countryside, from the Stone Age to the present - Part Two

14th - 17th centuries

The early 14th century saw a boom in agriculture, woodland cover was down to 7%, and the population was around 7.5 million. After the Black Death of 1348-50, the population was down to 3.5 million. Deserted villages and abandoned farms were left unmanaged, so woods started to develop again. After centuries of being contained in private parks, rabbits escaped into the wild, and quickly became so numerous as to be seen as pests due to their grazing. The Tudors needed enormous amounts of timber for ships and forts – Henry VIII’s flagship the Mary Rose alone needed 1200 trees – and their large-scale removal of large and ancient trees, mostly oak, changed the appearance and wildlife of woodlands. In the 1660s, silviculture and plantation forestry began as landowners were encouraged to plant, grow, tend, and harvest trees for timber to support the Navy. Serious efforts to drain the East Anglian fens began.

Enclosure Acts, 1750-1850

As the population increased and more efficient food production was needed, and workers were required for growing industries in the cities, successive Governments passed Enclosure Acts for thousands of parcels of land across the country between the mid-18th and mid-19th centuries. These broke up and privatised previously open communal land and changed the face of the countryside dramatically. Barriers and boundaries sprang up everywhere to enclose the new private properties – walls, fences, hedgerows, banks, ditches, roads and tracks. Rights of Common were removed, denying people the ability to live off the land, and there was mass migration to cities. Inside the estates, some good habitat management practices like coppicing were continued by gamekeepers to provide good conditions for game birds, as game sports became popular with the wealthy new landowners.

18th - 19th centuries

Coppicing peaked in the early 18th century, as the new industrial furnaces needed 10,000 acres of coppice each. As the Industrial Revolution took hold, coal became the preferred fuel, and large timber was needed for coal mine pit-props and railways. As coppice and other habitats declined, so too did a wide range of species which relied on them. Botanists explored the world and brought back exotic plants, including ornamental but invasive rhododendron and new fast-growing conifer trees for forestry. Many landowners turned to sheep grazing due to the high value of wool, and we still see the legacy of this today in areas like the Lake District and Scotland. The Victorians straightened many rivers to create more usable land and to try to prevent flooding by allowing water to move more quickly through an area. Muntjac, Sika, and Chinese Water Deer were introduced from Asia and soon escaped into the wild.

World War One and Two

Declaration of war in 1914 meant another increase in demand for timber, both for the trenches and for mine pit-props to ensure a supply of coal for Royal Navy ships. Trade links were almost completely cut off, preventing cheap imports, which resulted in more woodland inclosures being felled. By the end of the war woodland cover was at an all-time low of just 5%, so in 1919 the government established the Forestry Commission to ensure a supply of homegrown timber for the future with fast-growing conifers. Farmers had to produce more food with fewer labourers and horses so tractors were introduced, and the “Ploughing Up” campaign led to an extra 2.5 million acres being turned over to growing wheat, oats, and potatoes. In World War Two, a similar campaign meant the area of arable land in the UK increased by 50% in just five years.

Mid to late 20th century

Following WWII, agriculture and forestry intensified further, and even into the 1980s hedgerows were being dug up to create larger fields. However, the need for people to be able to access the countryside for wellbeing was also recognised and National Parks, nature reserves, and Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty were created. In the 1950s, disease decimated wild rabbit populations, and, without their grazing controlling regrowth, many grasslands became overgrown with scrub and trees. The following decades saw rapid advances such as increased mechanisation, introduction of new crops like the now-widespread bright yellow oilseed rape, and increased pesticide use. Environmental awareness spread during the 1980s, and agri-environment schemes were established to encourage landowners and farmers to take actions that benefit certain species or habitats.

Present day

Today, around 65 million people live in Britain, and to the 85% of those who live in towns and cities the countryside is largely regarded as a place of recreation rather than work and survival, although around 70% of land area is farmland. There are still many pressures, changes, and challenges: the constant construction of new housing estates, polluting industries and lifestyles, species decline and biodiversity loss, climate change. However, the ecological importance of a diverse range of habitats is more widely understood, and there are widespread efforts to restore woodlands, grasslands, hedgerows, heathlands, river meanders, and wetlands; reinstate traditional management methods, upon which many species depend to create the conditions they need; and reintroduce nationally-extinct species. Understanding the history of the land may help us create a sustainable future. 

Modern farmland in winter

History of the British countryside, part 1

I love history, and I love the countryside. One of the very first lessons we had at college at the start of last academic year was, to my delight, on the history of the countryside. I wanted to write about it back then, but never got around to it. But then last term we had a Specialist Project unit at college, so I decided to create a booklet on that very subject :)

The booklet was submitted just before Christmas, so the text for this post has been written for about two months. I did want to add to it, to include more interesting things I found in my research that I didn't have room to put in the booklet. But because I made the booklet directly from the notes document and not in a separate one, the notes I omitted no longer exist, and I just don't have time right now to re-do it all (or go back through the document Version History), sadly. So here it is...

A simplified history of the British countryside, from the Stone Age to the present - Part One

Key terms:

• BCE = Before Common Era (instead of BC) 
• CE = Common Era (instead of AD) 
• c. = circa = around, roughly 
• Tundra = open arctic landscape of lichens, mosses, short grasses, dwarf shrubs, reindeer and wild horses 
• Aurochs = ancient wild cattle, up to 2m tall at the shoulders, became extinct in Britain in the Bronze Age 
• Coppicing = periodic cutting of tree stems to allow regrowth of multiple stems – sustainable way to produce wood 

Mesolithic ("Middle Stone Age", c. 10,000BCE - 4500 BCE)

At the end of the last Ice Age, the climate began to warm. As the ice retreated, the land slowly transformed from treeless open tundra, to boreal forest of pine and birch, to dense broadleaf woodland – the “wildwood”. Animals such as red deer, boar, and aurochs migrated up into this north-western corner of the continent, and humans followed. The natural grazing processes of these large herbivores created a shifting mosaic of woodland interspersed with open areas of grasses, flowers, and small shrubs – trees covered about 60% of land area. Humans were nomadic hunter-gatherers, following their food, and had a relatively small impact on the landscape - although not none. Some began to create clearings to attract the herds and allow fruiting plants to grow, for easier hunting and foraging. The land between what is now Britain and Europe was slowly taken over by rising sea levels, finally creating an island around 6000 BCE. 

Neolithic ("New Stone Age", c. 4500 BCE - 2200 BCE)

Small-scale human organisation and impact on the land increased as rudimentary agriculture with crops and domestic animals reached Britain, and humans began living in more permanent settlements. Quarries and mines were established for flint and other useful stone. Settlers made use of difficult areas, for example by building wooden trackways across fens and marshes. Woodlands started to be cleared and managed – coppicing began – and after a few generations the loss of nutrients on well-draining soils meant that trees could not regrow: grasslands and heathlands established, and were used for grazing. Watercourses would have become cloudier with silt as soil washed into them, no longer held together by living tree roots. By the time Stonehenge and other monuments were created there were large areas of open land with views unobstructed by trees. 

Bronze Age and Iron Age (c. 2200 BCE - 43 CE)

Better metal tools meant easier, faster tree clearance for settlements. The first field systems were established, in some places marked out with stone walls known as ‘reaves’ which can still be seen today. Mines for copper, gold, and tin were created. Coppicing increased to produce charcoal, which was needed to fuel the smelting of copper and tin for bronze. By the Iron Age, small settlements and farmsteads scattered the land, surrounded by fields of crops and pastures for livestock. Woodland clearance continued to increase, as did coppicing for smelting iron. The introduction of iron-tipped ards (an early type of plough) meant heavier soils could be cultivated. Humans had organised into large regional tribes, and on hills across the country the treeless slopes were dug up to create ramparts of steep banks and deep ditches, known today as hill forts. 

Bronze Age burial mound

Roman occupation (43 CE - 410 CE)

The Roman conquering of England and Wales brought enormous change, and their engineering innovations left huge marks on the landscape. They created the first urban infrastructure, building towns and cities, 16,000km of roads, and canals and aqueducts carrying water to the towns, as well as military forts and luxurious villas with formal gardens for the landowning aristocracy. The landscape became more planned and regulated, with clusters of farms serving an estate, and, as war-going people who needed timber and money, the Romans began to manage woodlands as commercial crops, and hay meadows for animal feed. Non-native plant and animal species were introduced, including rabbits for meat and fur and the sweet chestnut tree for nuts and timber. Their heavier iron plough allowed expansion of farming, and in some places Roman field systems are still in use today.

Anglo-Saxon period (410 CE - 1066)

The Germanic tribes that came to Britain after the Romans left were farmers, so lifestyles largely reverted to those of pre-Roman times. Coppice woodlands were divided into compartments for families and villages, marked out using boundary wood banks, and the practice of leaving “standards” within coppice – selected trees left to grow naturally as one large stem for timber – began. Scattered farms with enclosed arable and pasture fields were replaced with villages and open strip fields farmed communally – as a result, wood pasture for livestock grazing increased too. Eventually towns began to establish again, and estates linked to the early Christian monasteries. The composition of tree species around the country was affected by a warming of the climate between around 800 CE and 1300 CE, known as the Medieval Warm Period. 

Norman period (1066 onwards)

William the Conquerer designated huge areas of land as Royal Forest, i.e. hunting parks – originally, “forest” meant an open area given over to hunting. 90% of the population lived in the countryside and were suddenly banned from hunting deer, wild boar, and hares, but in return Rights of Common were established, which allowed people to collect firewood, graze livestock, and dig turf or peat for fuel, among other things. Hunting favoured open areas, so many grasslands, heathlands, and wetlands were protected and kept open – and survived for centuries because of this. Meadows increased in area as hay became more profitable than grazing, and most floodplains were utilised as meadow. The Normans also introduced pheasants and fallow deer, and re-introduced rabbits.

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Next week I'll cover the late medieval period to the present day. If you like this sort of thing, I recommend reading Nicholas Crane's The Making of the British Landscape. Archaeologist Francis Pryor has a book of the same name and that looks good too. Oliver Rackham's History of the British Countryside may appeal to those with more of a scientific interest, I didn't find it to be very easy reading and the chapters are by habitat type rather than in chronological order. And Yuval Noah Harari's Sapiens is fascinating in terms of humanity's general development and how we changed from being one of numerous human species, very much a part of the ecosystems we inhabited, to being the only human species and dominating everything.

Exmouth 2021 - part 1

Yay, time for a travel post at long last! Two weeks ago I took myself off down to Exmouth for a few days; my first little trip away since late 2019. I'd booked it a couple of months earlier, and was looking forward to getting away and spending some time on the coast.

Monday 5th July

There were delays on my train journey so I arrived in Exmouth about an hour later than expected, around 2:30pm. I bought a coronation chicken sandwich as a late lunch from the M&S next to the station and found my way to the house where I was staying; my Airbnb was a local resident's spare room. (She was a Verified Superhost and had loads of good reviews, so I was pretty confident it would be safe and comfortable.) She was nice and had a gorgeous calm-tempered greyhound, her home was lovely and quirky and very clean, and the room was quiet and cosy. I always tend to linger in my room for an hour or two whenever I arrive somewhere, I guess to sort of work myself up to going out and finding my way around a new place. The weather was miserable and if I'd been in a hotel or B&B I would have stayed in, but as I was in someone's home (and on holiday) I felt like I should spend as much time as possible not there (though I'm sure she wouldn't have minded) - so I went out again around 4:30.

To avoid the heavy grey clouds, rain, and strong and chilly breeze, I decided to go to the cinema; Supernova, a drama starring the greats that are Colin Firth and Stanley Tucci and set in the Lake District, was showing at 5:45. The cinema was an independent one, which is really cool. I had the screen to myself, and want to see all the films they showed trailers for (the Marvel trailer for not just Black Widow but announcing all their films for the next few years was particularly exciting, haha). The film was very good; quiet, modest, understated, with a moving story and brilliant performances. I don't usually get snacks at the cinema but bought a small popcorn, and that along with the other snacks I had with me ended up being my tea, my evening meal, even though I was out again by 7pm and could have found somewhere for dinner. Afterwards I went to the seafront and sat in a shelter on the Esplanade, out of the wind and rain, watching the headlands at Berry Head, Torquay, Teignmouth, and Dawlish slowly disappear in the worsening weather.

Tuesday 6th

My host provided a range of options for breakfast and I opted to try some posh Kelloggs protein cereal that turned out to be cinnamon-y and very yummy. She also had a jar of dried cranberries the likes of which I've never seen before - they were whole, and huge, and gorgeous, and I'm kicking myself that I didn't go to the town's zero-waste shop, where I think she said she got them from, to see if they had any. Being a guest in the home of someone I didn't know and sitting in their kitchen trying to make conversation over breakfast wasn't the most relaxing experience; as always I was very conscious of not having questions to ask her about herself or many comments to make in response to things she was saying, especially because she was an interesting person and we had a lot of interests in common. But I'm always harder on myself than I need to be, there wasn't actually very much awkward silence so it wasn't too bad. I loved her home - an old terraced cottage full of books, houseplants, art, mismatched second-hand everything, and cherished items from near and far. She said it was nice to have someone stay for a few days as it's more relaxing, most of her guests are walkers who stay for just one night.

One of the reasons I chose Exmouth was for the walking - the town lies on the South West Coast Path, and is one end of the 26-mile Exe Estuary Trail that loops around the estuary linking together Exmouth, Exeter, and Dawlish Warren. I decided to spend my first full day doing the coast path to Budleigh Salterton, a route of just over five miles/eight kilometres. The first two miles is just along Exmouth Beach. Towards the far end, where the red sandstone cliffs which mark the western end of the Jurassic Coast start to rise, you have to be careful not to get cut off by the incoming tide, especially if you walk around into Sandy Bay at low tide. The cliffs are amazing to look at, and a little daunting to stand under even if they're not as high as elsewhere along the coast. The Jurassic Coast - the 95 miles between Orcombe Point at Exmouth and Old Harry Rocks at Swanage - is England's only natural UNESCO World Heritage Site. Why is it so special (apart from being stunningly beautiful)? You know what, I cannot possibly come up with a better explanation than the experts at the Jurassic Coast Trust:

Imagine your favourite film trilogy. Now imagine that the first film is only ever shown in Scotland, the second only shown in France and the third only shown in Brazil. Annoying right? Now imagine that you stumble across a little cinema on the south coast of England that shows the entire trilogy, all three films back to back with extra scenes and everything. That’s what the Jurassic Coast is like for three geological time Periods called the Triassic, Jurassic and Cretaceous.

Those three time periods of Earth history collectively make up the Mesozoic Era, running from around 250 to 65 million years ago. Rocks that offer an almost complete record of that entire time are spread out along the Jurassic Coast, a bit like the pages of a book.

How literally awesome is that?! I've always had an interest in physical Earth sciences like geology and should actually study it a bit at some point. The red rocks in East Devon are Triassic, the oldest, formed from layers of sand in a vast desert 250-200 million years ago - and there were other, older, grey rocks underneath those. The website linked above has more easy-to-understand information if you're interested, including an image showing which areas of the coastline have which rocks.

Anyway, back to the walk. At Orcombe Point you leave the beach and take the steps up the cliff, then a short walk through some National Trust clifftop grasslands brings you to the Geoneedle, an obelisk showing the different rocks along the Jurassic Coast. There's also a large compass thing in the ground pointing towards landmarks along the coast, which makes you realise how much the coastline curves around. Less than a mile further on was the Devon Cliffs Holiday Park - the halfway point of this route - and the South Beach Cafe, where I stopped for lunch. I ordered a raspberry lemonade and the shredded beef mac and cheese, the latter of which was yummy (especially as it came with a caramelised onion chutney) and satisfying, although the tablespoon's worth of beef was disappointingly more of a garnish than an ingredient. There were steps down into Sandy Bay, which I've heard is nice, but I wasn't in a great mood and just wanted to carry on.

It took me just over an hour to cover the remaining two and a half miles to Budleigh Salterton. The weather stayed good, a mix of cloud and sun with a breeze. The rain falling over the land and sea on the horizon didn't come my way, thankfully. The path was unnervingly close to the cliff edge in places, but I loved looking out over the countryside to my left and the sea to my right; the waves rolling in, the white horses, the shifting colours under sunshine and cloud shadow. Once at Budleigh and on the beach, the astonishing rusty red colour of the water, created by runoff from the cliffs after the recent rains, became more obvious and prominent against the pale pebbles of the beach. The beach itself was impressive too, sculpted by the forces of the waves in a way I hadn't seen before, into a pair of waves itself with steep banks and deep troughs. And oh, I loved the pebbles, the pebbles were gorgeous. Huge, round, oval, smooth, a variety of colours - pinks, purples, yellows, oranges, greys, blacks, stripey ones, spotty ones. I was ever so tempted to take one away with me, but I didn't, one single lone pebble would look out of place in my room, I wouldn't know what to do with it, and it's just generally better to not take things, to leave them and let other people enjoy them too. 

I spent about an hour on the beach, trying to be present and improve my low mood by concentrating on watching the waves, but frustration took over as I struggled with indecision over whether to get the bus back or walk, and what to do when I got back. Eventually, at about 5pm, I decided to walk back, via the 'Exmouth to Budleigh Salterton Old Railway Line', a flat paved route through the countryside. You have to walk through the town to reach it, so I took what I thought was a more direct route from my starting point at the beach but it turned out to be an unpleasant footpath-less on-road route, which put me in a bad mood, so I was very glad to finally reach the path after 45 minutes. Being back among woodland and farmland - and other walkers - was soothing and made me feel slightly better, and I stopped at a bench to rest, have a snack, and just look and listen to what was around me. Cows were mooing comfortingly in one of the fields, clustering in one corner where the farmer was probably putting some food out for them, birds were singing and flitting about, including some kind of martins, a kestrel hovered nearby, and once I set off again a black cat crossed the path way ahead and sat in the vegetation to one side, staring at me as I walked past, which made me smile. 

Eventually I got back to Exmouth Beach, after a long day of walking around 15 miles. I bought a pack of bread rolls from the convenience store on the seafront and went back to the same shelter I'd sat in the evening before, to put together a tuna mayo roll with the can of said filling and cutlery from home I'd brought with me. Once again my evening meal was snacks, more of a lunch, but at least I'd had the mac and cheese earlier. Grey clouds and a slightly chilly breeze were still about but several locals were playing volleyball on the beach, and some kitesurfers and sailboaters were out on the water. I looked through my binoculars at the three cruise ships anchored off the distant headlands. What looked to the naked eye to be some sort of cargo ship turned out to be an ugly hulking Virgin Voyages liner, haha. I headed back to the house, located just one street behind the seafront, around 9pm.

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Thanks for reading all that if you have! I think when I'm writing these things that I often focus on certain aspects I enjoyed or things I noticed, and I sound enthusiastic and maybe it comes across that I had a good time. Which is why I've mentioned my low moods and not actually having a good time. Sometimes solo travel is like that, for a variety of reasons, and I like to be honest and not pretend. This trip could have been improved by better planning, as I hadn't really planned at all. Anyway, part two about the Wednesday and Thursday to follow soon!

I love ecology!

I don't know why I feel a need to apologise every time I don't post in a long while, haha...

I am absolutely loving my college course so far! Particularly all the ecology stuff and species ID. It'd be difficult to find something more up my street unless I did an entire course solely on ecology. Last week I got 100% in the first ID test we had, of 25 trees and shrubs - yay! We're doing one category each half term, so we've now started to learn 35 woodland bird species for a test before Christmas. Thankfully we don't have to learn the scientific names for these, as we did with the trees, so it's easier. But this week the tutor did a see-how-much-you-already-know-before-we-start-learning-them test, and there were only two birds I didn't know, which I was quite chuffed about. It's a shame the species ID is a separate certificate, and doesn't count towards the actual course! But I'm so keen, it's exciting to have something I'm good at and to be learning about things that I love!

We do Estate Skills practical days once every two weeks; I missed the first two due to joining the course late and then being unwell, but so far I've built a bat box, and helped to remove and start to replace a stock-proof fence, and next time we're going to be working on a hedge. The practicals are challenging, obviously because I haven't done anything like it before, but it's quite fun doing something different. I hate wearing the understandably-necessary steel toe capped boots, though, they're too big and clunky and uncomfortable. We're also doing a unit on machinery... so at some point rather soon I'll be having a go at using things like chainsaws and driving tractors!

I am struggling in some areas, though, probably in most. I'm fine with facts and figures, but then actually applying information to things like evaluating a practical task, or creating management objectives for a woodland, or creating a presentation as if you're trying to persuade an MP to encourage more people to get out into the countryside (especially when you know that actually more people usually just creates more issues), I'm finding pretty challenging. I got ever so stressed out a few times in the first month, spending an entire day attempting just one bit of homework at least twice. I know it's early days and I need to somehow learn to not be hard on myself, and to ask for help, and to be okay with submitting homework that I may not be completely happy with. We only have between 10 and 13 hours of face-to-face lessons a week, and I'm not someone who easily learns self-guided. I don't know how to learn, how to study. I go to my classes and do my homework, but don't look at my notes outside of class, read them, rewrite them, arrange them into easier-to-remember blocks of info or whatever, don't do any further research. Are we meant to, is that what people do? That's a rhetorical question; I'm assuming the answer is yes. But nobody tells you these things. I've only just found out what a flash card is. And I'm absolutely no good at 'self-starting' or whatever it's called, making myself do things, setting up a schedule for myself and sticking to it. The course is assessed in a number of ways, all of which I'm nervous about, especially exams, but at least it's not only exams. But the tutors are great and have said they'll go over everything again beforehand, and the college has a study support team I can go to whenever I need help, so hopefully I'll manage.

Anyway, I thought I'd write up some of what I've learned so far! Over different posts, not all in one go, don't worry.

Biomes

A biome is a major biogeographical region, defined by the climate and in turn the predominant vegetation. They're affected by latitude and altitude (how far away they are from the equator, and their height above sea level), and tend to have similar landscapes and wildlife. However, what the different biomes are, how many there are, what the characteristics are, etc., depends entirely on where you look or who you ask. Every map depicting the world's biomes is different and statistics vary. Some maps show five, others a dozen or more. To put it simply, the five major biomes are aquatic, tundra, forest, grassland, and desert (according to National Geographic). But these are all are broad classifications which just give a general biogeographical overview of a large area, and are usually sub-divided further to various extents. 

• Aquatic - can be marine or freshwater, have high biodiversity, marine is world's largest biome. 
• Grassland - open, warm, dry, can be tropical (savannah) or temperate (prairies and steppes). 
• Forest - dominated by trees, high biodiversity, can be tropical (warm and humid, close to equator), temperate (seasonal, mild, often wet), or boreal (cold and dry, close to polar regions). 
• Desert - dry, little vegetation, specialised wildlife, can be hot or cold. 
• Tundra - cold and dry, inhospitable, simple vegetation, specialised wildlife, can be arctic or alpine (in mountains at high altitudes).

The map below shows 10 biomes, and with the different colours you can see how they roughly correspond to latitude.

Map of biomes across the world

The biome covering the UK and most of Europe is "temperate forest" or "temperate deciduous woodland". A place doesn't have to be covered in trees to be part of a "forest" biome; it just means that the dominant plants are trees, and if left alone to their own devices the landscapes would eventually return to woodland. But - fun fact - we do have some tundra and boreal forest here too! They usually cover places like the Arctic and Siberia, so I think that's really cool! In the UK those biomes are only found in one place - the Cairngorms, in Scotland.

The Cairngorms are the eroded stumps of a mountain range far older than the Himalayas. Even at around 50 million years old, ranges like the Himalayas and the Rockies are in geological terms relatively young, and still quite 'pointy'. The Cairngorms are around 400 million years old, and have gradually been eroded to form a plateau - a large, relatively flat area that is raised sharply above the land surrounding it. I've just read on Wikipedia that "evidence suggests that the granite now at the surface was once found to be at a depth of between 4 and 7km." Wow! The high Cairngorm Plateau is where the tundra is, cold, dry, and treeless, and it's surrounded by boreal forest - what remains of the ancient Caledonian Pinewood - at slightly lower altitudes.

How cool is all that? :D Haha. I always loved physical geography.

Lastly - although "woodland" and "forest" are now used interchangeably, the original meaning of 'forest' was just 'an area given over for hunting'. So places like the New Forest, which was set aside by William the Conquerer as one of his numerous private hunting grounds, often aren't an unbroken expanse of trees - in fact trees tend to be a hinderance to giving chase on horseback. A woodland is an area of trees, no matter where it is or how large it is. Funny how language changes.

That'll do for now, methinks! I might write about the history of the countryside next time, that was fascinating.

Cornwall, October 2019 - days 1 to 3

Tuesday 22nd - Southampton to Bodmin

I went down to Cornwall to visit one of my friends, who now lives near Tintagel (of King Arthur legend) on the county's north coast. It took five hours to travel down on the train, with three changes at Westbury, Taunton, and Plymouth, and I spent pretty much the whole time gazing out of the window at the sunlit countryside. There weren't many other passengers so it was nice and quiet for the whole journey, and the trains themselves, Great Western Railway ones, were fairly new so were nice and clean and comfortable. I liked that they had little lights above the seats, lit red or green to show which were reserved or available, which you could see along the whole length of the carriage from the door, so you could see at a glance instead of wandering up and down looking at each individual seat. At GWR stations, they also announce over the tannoys which carriages are the reserved ones. I wish South Western Railway and Cross Country would do both those things, it makes it so much quicker and easier to find somewhere to sit.

...Well that was a boring first paragraph, I'm sure, hahaha!

The stretch between Dawlish and Teignmouth was particularly lovely; the track goes right along the seafront so you're just looking out at the sea, in this case flat calm sea and blue sky :) I arrived at Bodmin Parkway just before five-thirty and my friend's dad picked me up from the station, as she was still at work. The drive through the Cornish countryside to where they live near Camelford was lovely, the setting sun throwing an absolutely stunning and beautiful copper-gold light on everything. Sausage casserole and mash for dinner was very welcome, and my friend got home from work late evening.

Looking out the train window at the Cornish countryside

Wednesday 23rd - The Camel Trail and Padstow

My friend was working on the Wednesday and Thursday so I'd planned some things to do. The Wednesday was forecast to be the nicer day weather-wise, so I decided to do the Camel Trail that day - a 17-mile / 28km recreational path (walking, cycling, horse-riding) on the route of a former railway line between Wenfordbridge, Bodmin, Wadebridge, and Padstow. The name is from the Camel River (kammel is Cornish for "crooked") which it follows, though the Camel Valley between Bodmin and Wadebridge, and then the Camel Estuary between Wadebridge and Padstow. I was dropped off at a point on the trail near Bodmin and spent about an hour and a half walking happily to Wadebridge. It was dry and sunny and the perfect blend of warmth and autumnal coolness. The valley is wooded and of course the leaves were gorgeous colours, and I picked up a handful of fallen sweet chestnuts to take home and roast, using my boots to pry apart the prickly cases. Many of the former station platforms along the route are still there, but the only one still in use is Boscarne Junction, from which runs a small heritage line; there was a lovely old steam train just turning around when I passed it. It was half term week, so although it wasn't super busy and I spent most of my time without anyone else in sight, it was never too long before you'd see someone else briefly.

An old station in the lovely wooded Camel Valley section

The entire length of the path was paved and completely flat, so I decided to hire a bike in Wadebridge. I haven't cycled in years, because going up the slightest incline is really tough when you're not used to it and don't practice. But I enjoy it when it's flat or downhill. It was so lovely! The waters of the estuary reflected the blue of the sky, the fluffy clouds, and the gently rolling low hills and harvested fields stretching either side. And it only took about 40 minutes to reach Padstow, I got there about quarter to three. I left my bike at a special cycle-park area at the end of the trail, and wandered along the waterfront towards the harbour. There were some retail units in a converted warehouse and I had a look in the shoe shop, which was a mistake because I found a really nice (and actually comfortable) pair of navy blue heeled ankle boots which I didn't let myself buy because I don't know how often I'd wear them. Just along from the shoe shop was was Rick Stein's Fish & Chips, from which I got a late lunch of battered cod and chips. I wish I'd got the grilled mackerel instead, though, as you can get battered cod anywhere. There was a deli too but I didn't really have time to go in - plus, I would have been tempted by things in there, too, haha. I got the fish 'n' chips to take away and ate it while walking round the harbour and up through the park overlooking the estuary to the WWI memorial at St Saviours Point. I sat on a bench there to finish eating but it was in the shade and a bit chilly, so I was glad to get back out in the sunshine again.

The Camel Estuary from the Camel Trail

The Camel Estuary from St Saviour's Point in Padstow

I only had time to go a little bit further along the path before having to turn back, as I needed to get the bike back to Wadebridge no later than 5:30pm. I'll have to look up flat cycle routes and bike hire, both locally and on future trips, as I really enjoyed it. While I was disappointed to not be able to stay in Padstow a bit longer - I hadn't been able to look round the little cobbled streets of the town at all, or go further along the coast path - it turned out to be a good thing as the last bus from Wadebridge back was shortly after 5:30, which I hadn't realised. Maybe they go on a bit later during the summer. It was dark by the time the bus reached Camelford, and my friend lives a little way outside the village on a country lane, but thankfully the bus stops there too. Nobody was in but the little annex had been left unlocked for me so I watched telly in there, and flicked through some of my friend's witchy books, while waiting for my hosts to return from their dog walk. We had cheese on toast for dinner, and again my friend got back late evening.

Thursday 24th - Bude

My friend didn't start work till 12, so in the morning she took me and the dogs to Trebarwith Strand, a small beach nestled between steep cliffs at the end of a narrow valley. The tide was in and I'm not confident walking over slippery rocks so I mostly just stood in one spot watching the awesome Atlantic waves, and the few brave people trying to surf, while the dogs got some exercise. We didn't stay too long before heading back to the house to get ready to go back out, she to work and me up to the seaside resort town of Bude. When a bus comes only every two hours and is late, you begin to question whether you might have missed it, even if you were at the bus stop several minutes before it was due. But thankfully it did arrive, and I enjoyed an hour's trip looking out at the windblown and largely treeless coastal countryside. We got stuck for 10 or so minutes coming out of Boscastle, though, the bus coming face-to-face with several cars going the other way on a single-track road with no passing place within easy reach.

The canal at Bude

I went first to Bude's Tourist Information Centre to have a quick look at what I might be able to do with my few hours there, and bought myself a little box of shortbread, then went across the road to get some lunch. The town has a canal going down to the sea, and there were some retail and eatery units in the old wharf buildings; one of the places I'd seen recommended online, The Olive Tree, was one of them, so I went there. It was sunny and warm enough that I sat outside, and ordered their Superfood Buddha Bowl of quinoa, smoky roasted cauliflower, carrot, edamame beans, pickled cabbage, Chinese leaf, toasted almonds, and a lemon and tahini dressing, with some smoked mackerel. Yum! :)

Superfood Buddha Bowl at The Olive Tree in Bude

Bude Canal and Summerleaze Beach

After lunch I followed the canal down to the end, where it met the sea. The beach was on the opposite shore, and I would have needed to go back up to the road by the TIC and back down the other side to reach it. There were quite a few people on it, a few dozen maybe, half of them surfing. The tide was in and it had clouded over more by this point so the water looked dark and cold and uninviting, and the wind was chilly. I put my scarf and beanie on, crossed the canal's sea lock and walked out a little way onto the breakwater, but its gently-sloping sides meant that the breaking surf was easily stretching up to reach the path and, well, I didn't want to get my shoes wet, haha. Being only a few metres away from and on a level with the pounding waves - as opposed to on a clifftop overlooking it from a distance - was a little unnerving, a reminder of how small we humans are in the face of the raw energy and power of the ocean. And this was probably a pretty calm day compared to what it can be like. I'd love to see it in a storm. I do have an admiration (and a little envy) of those who have salt in their veins - the lifeboat crews, fishermen, sailors, surfers: their deep understanding of, connection to, and ability to work with the forces of nature that are the sea and the wind, the tides and the weather.

I went back and turned to go up onto the cliff path, and reached the little tower a few minutes later. Clearly Victorian and made of local sandstone, it was octagonal and had the directions/compass points carved into the top of each side. I've tried to find out what it was, but it seems nobody's completely sure; it's referred to as both Compass Point and the Storm Tower, and some people think it was just an ornamental folly, while others think it was a coastguard watchtower. I'm inclined to go with the former. You could also see lots of big satellite dishes on the clifftops a few miles north. Turns out that's a government satellite ground station and eavesdropping centre, haha...

On the breakwater

I didn't get particularly far in my clifftop walk, maybe only a few hundred metres; I kept stopping and gazing out at the views - the shifting light over land and sea, the steel-blue and slate-grey waters of the Atlantic, the waves rolling in with a roar, the shadowy silhouettes of the cliffs stretching away to the southwest, the sunlit ones to the north, the double rainbow that appeared over the town. I have no interest in people-watching, but nature-watching I can happily do for a long while.

Looking southwest from the clifftop

A rainbow over the view to the north

I could have gone a bit further and possibly reached a point where I could see over Widemouth Bay, the large beach a few miles south of the town, but I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get back to the bus stop, so I turned around a little sooner than I wished. The tide had receded when I got back down to the sea-lock, and the little footbridge that connected it to the beach was no longer underwater. I wandered back up the canal and continued along it past the TIC for a few minutes, before the path branched off in different directions and I turned back to make my way to the bus stop.

I had the song Cousin Jack by Show of Hands in my head on the journey back. It's a beautiful but sad tribute to the Cornish miners who emigrated because there was no more work in their own land, their ways of life and language were disappearing. In many ways, especially away from the tourist hubs, Cornwall is still a very deprived region. Give it a listen: https://youtu.be/wgyRWKLkxvE

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Days four, five, and six to follow later this week :)