Hill fort fever: Barbury Castle

Over the last few years, I've developed new loves in the landscape. One is the Ridgeway, a 5000-year-old track that starts at Avebury and ends 87 miles away at Ivinghoe Beacon in Buckinghamshire. I've only walked a couple of short sections of it, from Avebury to West Kennet long barrow, and from the Uffington White Horse to Wayland's Smithy, but it is a place of chalk and magic and I would love to walk its entire length (but know I probably never shall). 

The Ridgeway at Barbury Castle

The other love has come upon me incrementally, and those increments are called Blaise Castle, Brackenbury Ditches, Brent Knoll Camp, British Camp, Bury Hill Camp, Caerleon Hill Camp, Cam Long Down, Castle Ditches Camp, Coney's Castle, Hembury Hill Fort, King's Weston, Lambert's Castle, Leckhampton Camp, Lydford Fort, Maes Knoll, Old Sarum, Small Down Camp, Stokeleigh Camp, Twmbarlwm, Uffington Castle, Wain's Hill ... and others, I'm sure, that have slipped my mind. The hill forts I've encountered on my walks, once a source of interest, now a passion. 

Barbury Castle with the Ridgeway running through it

I don't know what it is about hill forts, but they seem to me to be the thinnest of places, as if the people who lived there and defended them thousands of years ago are still just a heartbeat away. 

So when my daughter needed driving from Bristol to Swindon for an event, I decided to take the dog on a walk somewhere up near there for a change, and as I'd long wished to visit Barbury Castle, which is a few miles south of Swindon and combines hill fort mystique with Ridgeway delight, that's where we went.

Barbury castle has two distinct rings - even three in places - and the size of it means that you can do a walk of a fairly decent length for an elderly woman and a little collie who's approaching middle age and has never really had a work ethic, just by roaming around them, with the added advantage of not getting lost (except in your imagination).

The photos make it look like Cwtch and I had the place to ourselves, but we didn't.  When we arrived the car park was full of teenagers with unfeasibly large rucksacks, but they headed off elsewhere and that was a relief. (For me to derive a degree of self-regulation from my walks, they need to be quiet.) 

But as soon as we got to the fort, it became apparent there were a lot of cyclists coming through ... streams of them, in fact, on a route along the Ridgeway marked by day-glo orange flags. Maybe next time we go there - I would love there to be a next time - we'll choose a week day!

My wildflower ID app - I'm not very good at orchids - identified variously, as broad-leaved marsh orchid, heath spotted orchid and common spotted orchid, what I think were probably all examples of the same species. I suspect we can discount the marsh variety. It's a spotted one, but I'm not sure which.

Top row: orchids of some description, yarrow, scabious, salsify

Middle row: meadow cranes bill, lady's bedstraw, bird's foot trefoil, yellow rattle, small burnet, yellow mignonette

Bottom row: wild carrot, thyme, thyme-leaf sandwort, rough hawkbit, nodding plumeless thistle, creeping cinquefoil

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Meadow brown on hawkbit, thick-legged flower beetle on hoary plantain, marmalade hoverflies on hogweed, a painted lady, six-spot burnets on bird's foot trefoil

The Ridgeway

Visiting the White Horse and its Blacksmith

The situation was agonising to say the least. I'd just dropped Son the Elder off in Oxford for a day of roboteering when my left shoulder - the nominally non-impinged one, which had been muttering under its breath since the previous day, but which I'd chosen not to indulge - decided to have a full-on tantrum, with pain shrieking down my arm and into my wrist and hand. Luckily, StE managed to arrange an alternative lift for the home leg, which meant I wouldn't have to hang around all day. I still had to drive the seventy miles back home, though, which promised to be tortuous.

Back in the sunlit uplands of pre-pain, I'd planned a tour of churches with connections to the Arts and Crafts Movement, followed by a walk along the dream-road that is the Ridgeway to Waylands Smithy, which I'd never visited, despite having paid my respects to the Uffington White Horse on several occasions. I decided the churches could bide their time for now, but since the White Horse car park was more or less en route, why not break my journey and give my arm a bit of a rest by doing that part of my itinerary? 

The ancient Ridgeway is a track running from Overton Hill near the West Kennet long barrow in Wiltshire to Ivinghoe Beacon in Buckinghamshire. Son the Younger and I walked the southernmost end back in January 2020, with our old dog, Ted.

Somehow, despite running through the heart of Southern England, it manages to be quite remote, and has many ancient archaelogical features along its length, including numerous hill forts to defend what was an important trading route, long and round barrows, and the Uffington White Horse, plus - nearby - Avebury Stone Circles and Silbury Hill. 

Just under a mile and a half to the south east of White Horse Hill car park is Wayland's Smithy, so I set off, ignoring the ache in my arm. It was a joy to feel the old chalk path under my feet again. I don't what it is about chalk that draws me - it's not a landscape from my childhood - but I love its light, both during the day and at night, as well as the grasses and flowers that grow in it, which, on this day, were telling a story about the end of summer.  

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Meadow Crane's-Bill; Field Bindweed; Kidney Vetch; Tufted Vetch; Weld; Climbing (Woody) Nightshade; Butter-and-Eggs (Toadflax); Lady's Bedstraw; Field-Scabious; Red Bartsia; Burnet-Saxifrage; Yarrow; Spear Thistle; Harebell; Knapweed; Red Campion; Hogweed; Field Scabious again; Great Hairy Willowherb; Bird's-Foot-Trefoil

Shrill Carder Bee

 

For much of the time a red kite circled overhead, so I kept scanning the ground, as I'd love to add a red kite feather to my collection, but the track is well frequented and, as last year at Watlington Hill, I had no luck. 

Looking back to White Horse Hill

Wayland's Smithy

Wayland's Smithy reminded me very much of West Kennet long barrow, except you can't get inside it. It's actually two barrows constructed one on top of the other, with the remains of fourteen people having been discovered inside the earlier construction.

It felt very special, very atmospheric there.

I then retraced my steps along the Ridgeway and then climbed White Horse Hill.

Looking back the way I came

My arm was pretty painful still, so I decided, as I'd done it some years ago, not to explore the hill fort this time. I did wince my way up to the vantage point near the Horse's head, though, and it was worth it. 

The dry valley that is the Manger

Next time I must make sure my route takes me over Woolstone Hill, the best vantage point for the Horse (other than a hot air balloon). And not leave it so long before I get chalk beneath my boots again.

Walking back to the distant past

Start as you mean to go on. Well, it is a new year and for a few days, you really mean it. To that end, Son the Younger, the dog and I got up early on Thursday and went for a walk around Avebury. 

It's hard to visit without encountering at least some of its famous stones ... 

... though this visit was more about the surrounding landscape, and we were soon heading up the Herepath (also known as Green Street) towards the ancient Ridgeway that is styled as 'Britain's oldest road' and runs from nearby West Kennett to Ivinghoe Beacon in Buckinghamshire.

First, though, a pause to pay homage to the celebrated beech trees near the eastern entrance on the outer ramparts of the henge. 

The climb to the Ridgeway was long but gentle, although we were glad the wind we were heading into was fresh rather than cold.

At the meeting of the ways, we paused and looked back at the way we'd come, as the first raven of the year croaked overhead.

Then along the ridge of hills ... 

... with views on either side over the chalky Wiltshire countryside.

As the track descended to the A4, we encountered a series of bronze age round barrows ... 

... and over the road,  the now obliterated henge known locally as The Sanctuary, and a further round barrow. 

We crossed the bridge over the chalk stream that is the infant River Kennet, very close to where the local Saxon lads fought, and were defeated by, the Vikings, led by Svein Forkbeard. 

Then we passed through their village, East Kennett, now home to picturesque and doubtless hellishly expensive houses and strikingly coloured winter vegetation.

Our route then took us back across the Kennet ... 

... down very muddy lanes ... 

... and around the edges of fields with views to the mysterious prehistoric mound that is Silbury Hill. 

What was it for? We just don't know.

But before we got any closer, it was time to head up the hill to visit West Kennet long barrow. 

As long barrows go, it's big and high, so instead of squeezing and crawling, you can walk inside and wander about in the different chambers.

At one point all I could see was the tip of Ted's tail, like a magic wand waving in the dark. 

Silbury Hill from the top of the barrow

The Kennet was evidently running faster and higher than usual, as our next crossing place was flooded and we had to pick our way over. Not much of a problem for me in my walking boots; pretty uncomfy for Son the Younger in his 11 year old trainers ... 

... so instead of paying closer attention to the Hill, we squelched back along the river to Avebury. 

Then home, vowing to return, more adequately shod, sooner rather than later.