Walking the Cotswold Way (well, half of…)
The Pennine Way? Too long. Maybe the Cotswold Way? OK, maybe half of it.
With some time off between jobs, I had been pondering what sort of multi-day walks I could do. I had always fancied the Pennine Way, but I was not sure I would be ready for 14 days of solo walking. I then searched for “UK long distance walks in a week”. Up came this list, and my attention was immediately drawn to the Cotswold Way. Its location, its length and its (relative) hilliness appealed to me. After a bit of research, I figured out, in terms of transport and accommodation, it would be a lot easier for me to just do the southern half. So I bought a train ticket from Oxford to Stroud (which is strictly speaking not on the Cotswold Way), and booked overnight accommodation at Dursley and Tormarton for the 3-day walk.
Day 1: Stroud to Dursley
10.5 miles, 1850 feet elevation
The Stroudwater Navigation/canal was easy enough to find from the train station. The first thing that struck me was how industrial this part of Stroud was. Nonetheless, the toll path made easy walking, especially when I was still getting used to the weight on my back. After a mile and a bit, the giant that was Ebley Mill suddenly appeared around the bend of the canal, and I knew that is where I needed to turned to join the Cotswold Way. The state of the windows is always the first indication of how dilapidated an old industrial building is, and I was glad to see that it was not at all — it now houses the Stroud District Council, with a couple of obligatory lanyard-donning office workers smoking outside.
A wooded path soon led to a main road, and I was excited to see the first Cotswold Way signpost. The Cotswold Way immediately climbed up a grassy slope towards Selsley. Just beyond the All Saints Church, which is famous for its Morris & Co stained glass windows, a path led up to the top of Selsley Common. This was an instant reminder of, despite being a non-fell/mountain trail, how steep and undulating the Cotswold Way can be. Having slowed down a bit to enjoy the view (or just to catch a breath!), I soon found myself quickly descending into a woodland. The view was mostly hidden for a couple of miles, only with tantalising glimpses of the Severn to be caught occasionally.
But one knows that the Cotswold Way promises big views, and it did not disappoint when I finally reached Coaley Peak. The grandeur of the Severn finally revealed itself. To think that it had flowed all the way from the Cambrian mountains, far beyond the line of mountain tops currently above the horizon, was awe-inspiring. Knowing that there would be plenty of other views to savour over the next couple of days, I moved on and followed the path into another wood.
The section was surprisingly tough going, with some sustained ups and downs. In a state of tiredness, I was slightly surprised to be confronted with Cam Long Down when I exited the wood. It was literally a massive lump of landmass dumped on what would otherwise have been a vast expanse of flat land. Of course, the Cotswold Way should choose to tackle it straight on. Dragging my heavy legs up the green blob, I started to feel some pain on my right calf, and the wind started to pick up. All in all, I was not in a mood to enjoy the panoramic view this time, and I scurried across the top to find the way to descend into Dursley.
Too early to check into the Airbnb, I decided to relax at the Old Spot Inn. As I entered, it started raining — just as well I did not linger to have a reflective moment on top of Cam Long Down.
Day 2: Dursley to Tormarton
20.4 miles, 2970 feet elevation
Wanting to complete the 48-mile journey over 3 days, I decided to cover 3 stages of the Cotswold Way on day 2. I knew it would be a challenge, so I started early to give myself extra time. Luckily my calf pain seemed to have gone away after a bit of massaging and a good night’s sleep (I highly recommend this Airbnb in Dursley, by the way).
I climbed out of Dursley to reach the Stinchcombe Hill golf course. To save my legs, I decided to take a signposted shortcut across the golf course to avoid the plateau circuit (which apparently offers one of the finest of all Cotswold panoramas according to my Cicerone guide). Coming down Stinchcombe Hill, and out of the wood, I soon spotted the Tyndale Monument up on top of the next hill in North Nibley. Full of energy and looking forward to reaching North Nibley, I then encountered a totally unexpected scenario.
Following the Cotswold Way signpost, I came off a road to the edge of a field. It was a field full of chest-high crops (rape seed I think), and I could just about made out a faint line through the field. With no hesitation, I boldly marched through the field, and suddenly, I started feeling my trousers getting wet. Before long, my top and socks were getting wet. My shoes started squelching. All the moisture, from the overnight rain, that had previously clung on those crops decided to migrate to my body. Totally soaked, I reached dry land and could only laugh off the misery. As I walked past a house, I spotted a tap with a sign saying “FREE WATER FOR C.W. WALKERS”. This was of course a very nice gesture from the resident, but somehow, given the circumstances, I could only feel the irony. I then saw some walkers coming the opposite direction. I told them about the field, and apparently they had been warned.
Going through North Nibley, which itself was a neat village, I found the start of the climb up to the Tyndale Monument. The imposing tower was built in honour of William Tyndale, who translated the New Testament into English (more on him later) and was subsequently executed for “heresy” by the Catholic establishment. There was an opportunity to climb the steps to the top of the tower, but I was more than happy to drink in the view while simply wandering along the top of the knoll.
The following 2-mile walk down to Wotton-under-Edge was pleasant enough. Wotton-under-Edge is one of those pretty Cotswold towns that would otherwise warrant a few hours of visit, with its many interesting buildings. I, however, only spent half an hour or so to buy some lunch and to visit the fascinating Perry & Dawes Almshouses. Cotswold Way beckons.
The way then followed a stream to ascend Blackquarries Hill. This incidentally is a recurring theme of the Cotswold Way: dropping down to villages/towns from the escarpment, and then climbing back up again. I noticed the weather was starting to turn, and without much warning, drizzle turned into sleet shower. I sought refuge underneath a tree to put on my rain jacket, before the path led me to the exposed hilltop. It was just a stark reminder that the Cotswold Way is not just a pretty village walk, and that often you can be in pretty bleak remote landscape just on your own.
This walk on the hilltop lasted a mile before I entered a plantation. By that time, the rain had stopped and the sun had timidly come out. Plantation track turned into a sunken path, and I was soon in the village of Alderley, with a few very pretty cottages. A very pleasant walk through the Kilcott Valley took me to Lower Kilcott, where the route headed southeast to reach Hawkesbury Upton, passing the Somerset Monument.
The well-surfaced track out of Hawkesbury Upton allowed me to relax and enjoy the view out towards Wiltshire. When the track turned into fields, and the view was by blocked tall hedges, walking became a bit more tedious. Luckily, boredom did not last long as the route started winding its way down to Horton, and then onto Little Sodbury. Supposedly, it was in Little Sodbury where William Tyndale once said:
If God spare my life, ere many years pass, I will cause a boy that driveth the plow shall know more of the Scripture than thou dost.
The present St Adeline’s Church in Little Sodbury has a stone plaque commemorating this.
En route to Old Sodbury, I could see on the map an utterly unnecessary detour that the Cotswold Way decided to take to go over the top of an Iron-age hill fort. I thought about skipping it, but eventually yielded to the instruction. Was it really worth the climb? I am not sure, but at least it gave me an opportunity to stop and have some food and water. Joining the main path again, I was soon taken to Old Sodbury. The St John the Baptist Church must have the bench with best view in the world.
The rest of the walk was through the grounds of Dodington Park (estate now owned by a certain Mr Dyson). By now, I was pretty tired, and my legs were starting to hurt in all sorts of places. The genius of Capability Brown was sadly lost on me. Frankly I just wanted to get to the Compass Inn hotel in Tormarton and stop.
Day 3: Tormarton to Bath
17.8 miles, 1740 feet elevation
I woke up with some aches, but I was hopeful that the lower mileage today would be more agreeable to the tired legs. The sky was adamantly grey, and the drizzle was clearly not going away. Coupled with the constant rumble of the M4, this made pretty unpleasant walking. Maybe it was this that made the day a more reflective one for me, but maybe it was because I knew I was approaching the end of a journey?
As the Cotswold Way started to veer slightly away from the M4, the background crossfaded from the droning of modern life to the sweet twittering of a pastoral past. The changeover sadly was never complete before the M4 took over again. On auto-pilot, I wandered through fields to reach Hinton Hill and the stonewall of Dyrham Park, which certainly provided some respite from both the wind and the monotony, which had had been the feature of the day so far. As I left Dyrham, I saw a group of people with machineries on the path. My first thought was, inconvenience. As it turned out, they were volunteers cutting the grass, and I felt immediately ashamed of my thought. I thanked them, and suddenly realised how privileged I was to be enjoying the Cotswold Way. The National Trails are the work of thousands of volunteers, and we must not take them for granted.
The drizzle turned into heavy rain as I approached the first climb of the day. I also knew that the only place where I could get lunch between Tormarton and Bath was just over a mile away, so I marched on. I was thoroughly wet as I entered the Shell petrol station on the A46 by a village called Pennsylvania. A steak bake and a coffee later, I felt more energetic, and embarked on the rest of my journey. As I headed across the field towards Cold Ashton, the noise from the A46 became less and less noticeable. I started to formulate my first paradox of the day:
How much we love and hate modern convenience.
I had just had the best steak bake and best coffee ever in a petrol station, and yet already I was relieved to be away from the busy road, on which the very existence of the petrol station depend. I also reflected on the fact that, all this time, I had been following a GPX breadcrumb on my watch. So was this a real escape from modern life?
Cold Ashton had some pretty houses, but I was more excited to see the rolling hills in front of me. As I descended to bottom of a valley. I saw a cheerful-looking man heading towards me, and he said, “There are a few Cotswold Way walkers today”. I asked whether he had just started from Bath. He said, “I started from Land’s End and I am walking to John o’ Groats”. He had 65 more days to go. I wished him good luck and carried on. Secretly I also wished he would stay cheerful for another 65 days. This brought me to my second paradox:
How much we cherish solitude, but also camaraderie.
Does one need to find solitude before one can appreciate true camaraderie?
From this point onward, the Cotswold Way started to redeem itself, as it wound itself along the edge of a plateau from Lansdown Hill (where the Battle of Lansdown took place) to Prospect Stile, offering breathtaking views. From Prospect Stile, I felt a bit sad that I would be abandoning the Cotswold hills, but I was also excited to be walking into Bath, the end of my journey.
A long descent led me to Weston in Bath. Cheekily, the Cotswold Way threw in a couple of urban hills inside Bath — Primrose Hill and Sion Hill. Sion Hill in particular was a very pretty neighbourhood with some immaculate Georgian houses, overlooking the city centre itself. The rest of the walk to the centre of Bath, where the Cotswold Way ends, took me past the famous landmarks. It also took me past loads of shops, the sight of which already made me want to plan my next walk to get away from the everyday consumerism.
But for now, my adventure was done — I was happy to sit by the river Avon and take my walking shoes off.
Final thought
It was a wonderful walk, both as a physical challenge and as a way for me to further understand my relationship with the land. I had many thoughts during the walk, but one obvious yet often forgotten fact is that:
If not for all the people who have contributed to the Cotswold Way, along with the other National Trails, it simply would not exist.
So get out there, enjoy it, respect it, and hopefully we can all give something back!
Update: I have now completed the Cotswold Way. Read my journey walking from Chipping Campden to Stonehouse here :)
