England, my England

Henley-on-Thames

Stanley

So now my time away has come finally and rapidly to an end, and tonight I catch a flight, well three flights actually, back to Nelson, 18,770km away. International travel is so weird. And I’ve been in England in this area of South Oxfordshire for so long that I’ve kind of settled in.

Polo

House sitting here has been a great way to catch up with Hannah and Lydia. Both sits have been within an hour or so of London and even closer to Heathrow. We’ve walked, talked and eaten together, and admired my various doggie charges. I’ve also been able to see my Warwickshire rellies with whom, especially Ali, I’ve also walked, talked (a lot) and eaten (also a lot) too. Plus I’ve met some interesting and friendly locals in the villages and pubs or out walking.

Beautiful Oxford

Stanley on the Thames Path

Tilda on Watlington Hill

The English countryside is as lovely as ever. Extraordinary that even today it remains almost unchanged from centuries ago. Around here in the Chiltern Hills, it is easy to walk in any direction and see nothing but gently rolling wooded hills and peaceful pastoral scenery and from what I’m told so many areas of the country are the same. Every day I’ve walked and loved it. And it's so easy. There are hundreds of miles of public footpaths and bridleways that criss-cross the countryside, many of which are centuries old, and give the public a right to cross privately owned land which cannot be overruled by the owners. So, if there is a right of way, you can follow it through fields, woods, farmland, parks, around golf courses, past stately homes, through farmyards or along the rivers and canals.

What a great time I have had. This combines my love of walking with my love of navigation, for, although there are signs, it is essential to have a large-scale map to plot your route linking up the

The Thames near Henley

various paths and to be able to then find your way for there is a huge network of public ways. Near Henley-on-Thames, the Thames Path which runs all the way from the source of the river near Cirencester to Greenwich in 

Chiltern Gentian

London follows the gentle, clean, green Thames River past colourful canal boats, luxury motor launches, sleek rowing skiffs or just solitary kayaks. On either side of the river are pretty cottages with lawns sloping down to the water's edge or luxurious manor houses with pools, water ponds and sculptures in their gardens. Swans, coots, moorhens and ducks frequent the reeds and rushes along the river banks and overhead red kites, of the eagle family, once almost extinct, wheel and swoop, or whistle from their treetop perches. Where I am now on the northern side of the Chilterns, the walking is through beautiful beech forests, peaceful pasture and between high hedgerows hiding pheasants now that the grain is cut. The wildflowers on the chalk grasslands are delightful: harebells, buttercups, ragwort, Queen Anne’s lace and cowslip, and on nearby Watlington Hill the bright blue Chiltern gentian, unique to this area, is everywhere.

The Crooked Billet, Stoke Row

The walking is so accessible and yet today on a Bank Holiday Weekend, I saw only two people during the whole of my three hour walk. Even on long-distance or multi-day walks, you don’t have to carry much,
for dotted here and there are the famous pubs which welcome walkers and cyclists, and dogs too, with beer and cider, and these days excellent food and gorgeous accommodation. For my birthday lunch, Hannah and I went to The Crooked Billet in Stoke Row not far from where I am staying. Now regarded as one of England’s best country inns, this pub is loaded with history. Built in 1642, it was once the hideout of highwayman Dick Turpin who was romantically attached to the landlord’s daughter Bess. Inglenook fireplaces, low timbered ceilings, flagstone floors and old scrubbed pine tables are just some of its original features. It has always brewed its own beer and even today it has no bar – beer is drawn directly from casks in the cellar but there is nothing old-fashioned about the food - modern, fresh, interesting and absolutely delicious.

Near Brightwell Baldwin

These aren't rosehips!

When I arrived in Europe at the start of June the fields were full of ripening wheat and barley slowly turning to pale gold under the baking sun. Here in England a very cool summer is fading. The hay is baled, the crops are in. Now I walk past fields of stubble; men on huge tractors spread manure then plough it in leaving vast expanses of rich brown soil. Crows flying low follow the ploughs seeking grubs. On the big horse chestnut trees, the leaves are turning orange and their green prickly seeds will soon burst open to drop shiny brown ‘conkers’. Blackberries are everywhere and sweet enough already to eat, and bright red rose hips adorn the hedgerows. Autumn will soon be here. Back in New Zealand, the days are drawing out and temperatures are on the rise. It's nearly spring and my work will start again soon. Time to head for home.