Ridgeway Trip IX: The Longest Day, For Reals

 We did get a slow start in the morning, as we went to pick up laundry.  Luckily our breakfast was a bagged one which we ate in our rooms, and it was still perfectly adequate.  After packing, we went out into the town again to hit the weekly market, which had gorgeous produce and plants; Mom was sad she couldn't take all the plants too.  We bought cherries, huge dark ones, and assorted pasties and cheese rolls, etc. from a bakery stall.  We also got an Eccles cake, because we'd never had one -- and now we never need one again.  An Eccles cake is a pastry shell around a center of raisins and other dried fruit, very strong.  This conforms to my theory that nearly all British goodies, the old-fashioned ones that you've read about in E. Nesbit, are varying forms of bread with raisins in. 

Note the cipher on the post office door;
it's from Edward VIII's very short reign

huge Norman/Victorian church

We peeked into the huge Norman/Victorian church at the center of town, which has had some quite modern renovations, and started south.  We walked to the Thames and started down the Thames path, through many odd walls and doors, until we got to gardens instead.  This was at least a mile and a very pleasant walk close to the water.  We even passed the Oxford University Boating Club, a large modern building, and saw two sets of guys out practicing.  Presumably Boating Week is coming up.

lots of fun doors on the Thames path

past the built-up bit

Once we got to the A road going over the Thames, we had to walk up and join the pedestrian lane to cross.  A little too close for my comfort, but perfectly safe, and once we were down the other side, we could join the Ridgeway and head directly east.  We walked in practically a straight line for quite a while, luckily mostly shaded.  In fact nearly all of our route was shaded today, which was very lucky because it was a very warm day with few clouds.  Being in the direct sun made for sweaty times in our hiking gear!  Anyway, at first we walked through trees right next to the road, which was kind of loud, and we had to cross a B road.  After that the cars faded away and we continued to walk through trees, which rapidly turned into a fairly narrow track next to Grim's Ditch -- a very long, straight double ditch with higher ground in-between that dates from prehistory.  I guess it was a boundary, but none of the signs could say.  This track went on for over 3 miles, always keeping us in nice shade.  The ground was not easy walking, though, as it could be rough and always had stones and roots poking up to trip walkers.  We were on the slow side and it seemed to take forever.  

A rather nice bit of Grim's Ditch

We climbed over a stile, our only one, and it was optional.
They have carefully changed all Ridgeway stiles to gates for accessibility.

Spooky wooded path, possibly leading to the Paths of the Dead

Or maybe just to Nuffield

Eventually we climbed over a stile, turned left, and entered Nuffield, a small village.  Almost the first thing we saw was the church, which had a sign outside saying "church now open come in 4 tea and cake."  And the very first thing we saw in the churchyard was an ordinary gravestone that, as Mom pointed out, belonged to Baron Nuffield, the founder of Morris motors. 

We ate our yummy lunch on a shady bench and went in to see the church.  Like all the churches we've seen around here, it is Norman and very square.  And sure enough, there was a little set up for tea and coffee making, and a fridge with cupcakes (fairy cakes!) in it.  So Kim and I had a fairy cake each and wrote our names in the book.

After that we set off down the street, only to realize we'd missed our path.  Back to the church, and you have to cross the street and go right into a field, which led to the local golf course.  The Ridgeway runs right through the golf course, over like three different greens.  This was kind of hilarious.  I've never even been on a green before.  You follow the little wooden stakes and hope nobody beans you with a golf ball.  Then another foresty bit, quite up and down and rough, and then we slogged through two giant wheat fields.  The path is just a bare lane between sections of field.  Here we noticed that even the farming soil is chock-full of rocks; flints, in fact.  They're just everywhere.  I bet if you sieved them all out, which would be impossible, there would be about a third as much soil as you started with.  Anyway that last field was rough -- sunny and uphill for a long time.

Follow the posts across the golf course

Straight across a green

Steeper than it looked

Everything got very up and down.  We'd pick our way down a steep and rocky slope, apparently in the middle of a forest, and then have to climb sharply uphill again next to some sheep fields.  This seemed to go on for a very long time.  We crossed Ewelme Park, which was once a Tudor manor and now seems to be dedicated to breeding polo ponies, and a 5-barred gate was illegally locked, so we had to climb right over.  It even had a sign that said it wasn't locked!  

At last we reached the village of Swyncombe, which evidently consists solely of a teeny church and the former rectory.  Somehow this church is still running, and we went in to see it.  It's even tinier than the tiny church of yesterday, and dates from the 11th century.  Inside, we found we could buy tea towels, well, A tea towel.  We wanted more than one!  And the church had built, as a public service, a nice clean little free-standing washroom.  So great!  Thank you, St. Botolph's!

But we still had far to go.  Much too far in fact; the track seemed endless.  We tromped along, through fields and foresty bits and in the heat, and we started to doubt that Watlington even existed.  Eventually a sign claimed that Watlington was a mile away, but maybe it meant that the nearest turnoff was a mile?  We couldn't take that turnoff, which was a major roadway with no sidewalk, and had at least two miles left.  Mark later calculated that we had walked about 15 miles, which my feet certainly believed.  Finally we did get to that turnoff, and the half-mile or so down to Watlington seemed endless.  But once we got there, the pub and rooms were lovely.  We had a nice dinner and went down the street to check out the co-op little grocery store to see if we could get lunch there (yes!).  Then I soaked my feet for a while and studied the giant bruise I'd inflicted upon my calf.  I don't bruise all that easily and it was pretty impressive.