A visit to Margam Country Park

The second week of the Severn Tunnel being closed was a good ten degrees cooler than the preceding one, so rather than do two round trips on the days I was due to take the Northerner to work, I decided to stay out all day with the dog and give her some really good walks. The first day we visited Margam Country Park, on the outskirts of Port Talbot.

Margam promised so many of my favourite things ... but didn't always deliver. For instance, I love old ruins, and Margam Abbey - which before the Reformation was the richest monastic house in Wales - has mightily impressive ones, only sadly they were fenced off. And yes, I know it's important to keep visitors safe, but I only really get a sense of a place when I can touch it. 

The Chapter House

The 12th century nave of the Cistercian Abbey still exists; it serves as the parish church and is dedicated to St Mary. Cwtch was very happy to be allowed inside ...

... and so was I, because it has stained glass I wanted to see. The 1904 East window, by James Powell of Whitefriars, is stunning, but the Morris & Co lights in the west wall, designed by Burne Jones, were all but impossible to see, owing to unfortunate arrangements of lighting, both engineered and natural.

The 16th and 17th century marble tombs of the Mansel family

The 12th century monastic fish pond

There was also a museum containing nearly thirty inscribed stones and crosses, some of considerable antiquity, which I would have loved to visit, but it would have meant leaving Cwtch in the car, and I didn't want to do that.  

The 19th century Gothic mansion known as Margam Castle, which is now used for events

The Drinker Moth caterpillar

There's a hill fort in the grounds too, and hill forts are also one of my favourite things, so before starting our walk, I decided to walk up to the top to take in the view. But it was a murky day - above, the view of the sea - and it was all overgrown with bracken, so you couldn't get to, or even see, the top. Around the back of the hill, there was an impression of ditches and banks, but it was all a bit disappointing.

The grounds also contained very many rhododendrons. (I dislike rhododendrons.)

We set off up a valley, following the route of St Illtyd's Way. 

After a time, our route took us over a stone stile and up a steep, rocky path to a conifer plantation ... 

... before the final leg back to the castle and ruins via the upper deer park. It was unseasonably cold and blustery: a complete contrast from the extreme heat of the previous week.

En route we encountered this wonderful, ancient ash tree, and I thought how easy it is to be dismissive when you're a casual visitor: if I lived nearby and visited often, I'd get to make friends with all the amazing trees that are undoubtedly to be found in the park.

The Bro Stone: an amazing viewpoint on a clear day!

Looking towards Port Talbot

The Yew Dragon, carved by Nansi Heming

'Shout' by Glynn Williams

We only got to spot any deer as we were driving out of Margam - they were safely in the lower park, away from Cwtch, who'd been kept on the lead in case we had encountered them. All in all, a bit of a curate's egg, really, Margam, though not helped on this day by the weather and the fact I lacked a dog-sitter. Maybe I'll be back one day, maybe I won't.

To the Vale of Lune and Cautley Spout

Nine years had passed since I'd last seen my Friend in the North, Jill. And when I say North, I mean North: the woman who for many years lived up the road from me in the Cotswolds has long been based in County Durham. 

But since we were holidaying a mere 67.7 miles away in Lancaster - or to be precise, Dolphinholme - it would be easy to rendezvous half way, with Sedbergh, which somehow manages to be in the Yorkshire Dales and Cumbria simultaneously, the agreed meeting point. First, though, a quick visit to St Gregory's Church at Marthwaite in the Vale of Lune, which has connections with the Arts and Crafts Movement. 

Not the most prepossessing of buildings - although instantly familiar to someone like me, who was raised Methodist - St Gregory's was built in the 1860s as a Mission Chapel for the navvies building the London and North Western Railway, and so it didn't have to be fancy. This doesn't mean it wasn't fitted out with care and an eye for detail following its refurbishment in the 1900s,  the wooden fittings and furniture being supplied by the prestigious firm of Waring & Gillow of Lancaster. 

William Holman Hunt's 'The Light of the World'

It's the stained glass windows, though, that are the real glory here. Installed when the church was enlarged in the 1900s, they were designed by Frederick George Simon and, for the most part, feature local rivers, hills, trees, plants and wildlife.

The church also contains three beautiful windows designed by Morris & Co.

Justice

Fortitude

Peace

It was time to be getting on, however, our destination the National Trust-owned Cross Keys Temperance Inn at Cautley on the other side of Sedbergh. 

A temperance pub? Why yes, the story being that alcohol ceased to be sold there quite abruptly, following a raucous night in 1902 when a drunken customer by the name of Buck was being helped home by the then landlord. Buck fell down the bank of the River Rawthey, only for the landlord, while trying to get him back on his feet, to fall right in and drown. The pub was subsequently sold, the liquor licence removed, and that was that. 

I didn't mind, I was driving. And our Friday pie and peas were washed down quite nicely by tea and ginger beer. 

Since, having met up with Jill and her partner Paul, there were three dogs in our party and an actual, real-life and quite noisy children's party going on inside, we were more than happy to sit out in the back garden overlooking the Howgill Fells, which were very beautiful indeed. 

No, you can't herd them, Cwtch.

For our walk, we crossed a very placid-looking River Rawthey via a rather grand new footbridge, and made our way up the track towards the cascade up ahead of us, which has the rather wonderful name of Cautley Spout. 

The views were lovely, but I was struck by how dry and crackly the vegetation was, even in areas where rushes and sphagnum moss were growing that you would expect to be boggy.

Paul remarked that a dry summer such as this one probably wasn't the best time to go gallivanting after waterfalls, but the Spout was pretty all the same, even if on other occasions, it's a lot more dramatic. 

Sadly, the inn was closed by the time we got back, otherwise we might have felt entitled to some cake after our walk, but nothing could spoil a lovely day in this beautiful part of the North. 

Ee, but it were grand!