THE HEART OF ENGLAND WAY & ONWARDS TO MANCHESTER
Chipping Campden to Milford & Milford to Manchester
THE HEART OF ENGLAND WAY
After walking the Cotswold Way with my wife Sue, and our friends H and A, my suggestion to keep on walking until we’d traversed England south to north didn’t meet the outright hostility that I’d expected. After consulting various websites, it seemed that the Heart of England Way would dovetail into our plan, as it linked with the Cotswold Way at Chipping Campden before meandering through the Midlands and finishing just north of Cannock Chase.
We completed the hundred mile route in eleven walks, strung out across 2008.
Much of the walk was through fairly flat countryside; fields, by-roads, farms, that kind of thing – all very pleasant but nothing spectacular after the stunning views of the Cotswold Way. After a couple of walks we found ourselves at the River Avon on its journey from Naseby to Tewkesbury. We crossed it using the Grade 1 listed Bidford Bridge, a fine example of an ancient packhorse bridge which has been in use for about 700 years. Alcester, on the other side of the river, is a fine town with an even finre local hostelry where we undid all our healthy walking by piling on the calories in an etended Sunday lunch. Now in Alcester, there lives a man called Mervyn. He drives a taxi and he kindly took us the most circuitous route imaginable after our next walk. And, as it was a Sunday, there was a special supplement. After cleaning us out, he drove off with a big smile on his face, no doubt looking for his next vitims. The Heart of England Way next took us through Henley-in-Arden to a place called Lowsonford which sounded very Lord of the Rings. We had a different taxi experience here, with us having to guide the driver both into the village by phone and then out again as he appeared to have no knowledge of the area or indeed how to use a map.
The weather was kind to us for all the walks except one, from Meriden to Hurley. Perhaps it was the constant rain that blurred our vision, but this was also the only walk where we went horribly wrong – twice! From there it was an enjoyable stroll through Kingsbury Water Park to Drayton. We crossed the Birmingham and Fazeley Canal on a most unusual footbridge, built to resemble a castle, with crenelated towers. Once we had traversed both the busy road that once was the A5 and the even busier dual carriageway that carries the current A5, we climbed up onto moorland that stretched to the outskirts of Lichfield. Only two walks remained, taking us first into Cannock Chase and then out to the northern perimeter. The journey into the Chase was magical. Early winter snow had clad the landscape in white and Sue, after a magnificent display of Olympic falling all your length, got a close up view. A short trek to Milford with its expansive common, brought the Heart of England Way to its northern ending, although we then returned to Chipping Campden to complete the southern part of trail that begins in Bourton on the Water. Walking across the West Midlands is not a phrase that conjures up idyllic landscapes, but the walks had been interesting and enjoyable. And now we were keen to embark on our next adventure: the journey south.
ONWARDS TO MANCHESTER
Four years after starting the Cotswold Way, my wife Sue and I, with our friends H and A, had now completed the journey from Chesil Beach on the south coast to Cannock Chase in Staffordshire, and next we set our sights on Manchester. Our first walk took us to Abbots Bromley, home of the famous horn dance. The route passed the spot on the Trent & Mersey Canal where, in 1839, Christina Collins accepted a lift on a passing barge. It was a mistake: she ended up being murdered with two of the crew hanged for the offence. The author of Morse, Colin Dexter, found a copy of the story, written by H’s father, and turned it into his novel The Wench is Dead. This resulted in us being invited to watch ITV film the story at the Black Country Museum,and to attending a talk by Colin Dexter, where A and I turned up in our most casual clothing only to find there was a black tie reception prior to the talk. It’s funny how the joy of free wine dissipates when you are the only ones wearing jumpers and jeans in a sea of dinner jackets and bow ties.
The beautiful River Dove accompanied us for some of the route, but after days of heavy rain, it had flooded. We needed to cross a bridge over one of its tributaries but the bridge was knee deep in water. There seemed no alternative; we just had to wade through and hope we’d dry out eventually. However, there was another way. H took off her boots and socks, rolled up her trousers and set off. A was not impressed. “You don’t know what you might tread on,” he grumbled, but H was determined and emerged unscathed into the field the other side, her clothing as dry as a bone. She put on her socks and boots, rolled down her trouser legs and, setting off with a smug grin, immediately sank up to her knees into the waterlogged field.
Until we were north of Leek, we’d been following the Staffordshire Way, but as this started to diverge from the direction we wanted to go, we joined up with the Macclesfield Canal. This, unsurprisingly, took us to Macclesfield. Before leaving the Staffordshire Way, we climbed over hills near to the picturesque Lake Rudyard. It was here that a certain Mr. Kipling met his future wife and their son was named after the lake. From Macclesfield the canal continues in a northerly direction to Marple, leaving us with three walks to reach the centre of Manchester. The first was very atmospheric, travelling alongside the River Goyt, past relics of the industrial revolution. The ‘dark satanic’ mills fairy sparkled in the crisp January sunshine. The second took us through a less than picturesque tower block estate whilst the third passed the home of Manchester City, the Etihad Stadium before picking up another canal, filled with the rubbish that the fans had thoughtfully deposited there on their journeys to and from their matches. Having reached our limit for day trips, we now set about planning weekends away to walk the next leg of our journey, along the Thirlmere Way to the Lake District.