If anyone were to ask me, I’d say I am in good shape. I might even go as far as to say I am in very good shape, given how much I walk on a daily basis plus my regular gym sessions. Ha! Double Ha! Walking 27 km yesterday over eight hours had me staggering up the stairs to our room and wondering just how I was to survive the rest of this week.
We started out from Abingdon before eight with our first planned stop in Dorchester. The first few hours, it was easy going. Initial showers shifted to sun, and the English landscape is so lovely—especially when bordered by the Thames.
Except that sometimes, the water beside us wasn’t the actual Thames, it was a “cut”, which is a short canal that slices across one of the Thames’ more meandering curves or offers safe passage round one of the many weirs in the river. Each one of those “cuts” ended in a lock.
I find locks so fascinating! Not because the engineering involved is all that difficult to comprehend, but because, essentially, our locks today work the same way as the historic locks did. Of course, prior to modern, electric pumps, real horsepower may have been needed to fill the lock and open and close the gates, but still: same, same.
After hours and hours we were hungry and looking forward to a pit stop in Dorchester, despite this adding a further 3 k to the overall length of the walk. Besides, I really wanted to see Dorchester Abbey. Turns out the abbey tearooms (one of the major draws) were closed. Turns out more or less everything was closed in Dorchester, so we got to see the abbey church, collapsed to sit on a bench for a while then marched on, fortified by an ice cream…
Dorchester Abbey is another ancient religious site, dating back to the 7th century. Originally, the abbey church was a cathedral of a diocese extending all the way to the Humber, but after 1066 William did some reorganisation and moved the see to Lincoln. Dorchester became a backwater for a while, but some years on, newlife was blown into the abbey which grew rich and prosperous—until the Dissolution in the 16th century. Now, the old church stands surrounded by a pretty little village and is deffo worth a visit!
Anyway: we still had hours of walking ahead of us, and after a sudden downpour we diverted through something called Little Wittenham Woods. Lovely. Even lovelier when we walked through meadows full of sheep and horses. Less lovely when the path beat its way through nettles as high as my shoulders. Ouch!
And then, finally, we arrived in Wallingford. Now, what is Wallingford famous for? Well, primarily for being the site of a magnificent medieval castle, now sunk into the ground and only visible as grassy mounds. The complex was huge: three moats, an outer, middle and inner bailey, a church, housing for priests and men at arms and smiths and a multitude of servants—plus, of course, the royals that now and then visited.
Wallingford was a fortified town already in Anglo Saxon times. The man in charge, one Wigod, apparently supported William the Conqueror, and when William’s man, Robert d’Oyly, arrived with instructions to build a new castle, Wigod cemented his alliance with the Normans by marrying off his daughter, Ealdgyth, to Robert.
One royal in particular is connected to Walling ford: Empress Matilda, mother of Henry II and determined defender of her right to the throne, despite her cousin Stephen having successfully usurped it. Not that I’ve ever had the opportunity to chit-chat with Matilda or Stephen, but I must say that IMO, Stephen comes down through time as a substantially more sympathetic person. But facts are facts: Stephen had sworn to uphold Matilda’s rights to the throne and reneged on his vow the moment Matilda’s father, Henry I, died.
Wallingford is also famous for being the fictitious Causton of Midsomer Murder fame. I must admit, though, that we were a bit too tired to spend all that much time exploring the town.
Today, we set off at eight, draped in waterproof capes. Smart move, as it rained A LOT. But despite all that rain, today’s walk was by far the most beautiful so far. We actually detoured from the Thames Path and followed the Ridgeway Trail through lovely North Stokes and South Stokes to Goring.
In Goring, we rejoined the Thames Path. So far, the path had mostly been running side by side with the river, but suddenly, the path veered off slightly and started to climb—significantly. We walked through Lower Hartslock and Hartslock woods, while to our right, the ground fell away in a sheer drop towards the distant river.
And then, at last, we reached Whitchurch—so, so beautiful!—walked across the picturesque Whitchurch bridge into Pangbourne. Pangbourne is a small town, which in medieval times was a small settlement centred round a manor that was given to Reading Abbey. We will indirectly come back to this in my next post about the next stage of our hike, as one incumbent of this manor came to a very, very gory end. But more of that next time, because now I am going to explore my dinner options here in Pangbourne. All that walking makes me very, very hungry!
P.S. Three days in and we have walked 67 km…
I’m with you re Stephen. I think he was a good person (I am biased because I really love his Mom, but I also point to his failure to kill or harm William the Marshall when William’s father refused to give up the castle his son was being held hostage to guarantee).
But he did renege on his vows… Still, he seems to have been much more likeable than his cousin. I am a big fan of his wife, yet another Matilda
Thank you for sharing your adventure. I greatly appreciate the realism of walking these distances each day. Mixed with the history and the picture, I’m devouring your journey. Can’t wait for the next entry!
What a nice comment – thank you!