Then we changed our minds.
Thing is, gale or no gale, you have to grab your chances to get out in the countryside before the next grey cloud obscures the sun, and yet another shower keeps you stuck indoors.
English weather has a terrible reputation worldwide, never mind among the stoic Brits who have to live with it, but one good thing about it is that the dreary wet days teach you to really appreciate the bright and sunny ones.
So we set off back to Elmley Castle, hoping that we'd walk a little further up Bredon Hill than we did last time, then get a look inside the village pub.
Things did not go entirely according to plan, but when we grab our poles and hit the trail, we're not big on sticking with rigid goals (it's enough just to be out there amid the bird-song, the trees and the sound of bleating lambs).
Elmley Castle is a gorgeous little village, with a population of about 500, many of whom live in thatched Tudor cottages with streams burbling past the front gate and gardens filled with flowers.
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Google's satellite shot of the Bredon Hill terrain is a
helpful guide, and the red line shows how to get to Parson's
Tower at the 960ft summit if that is your heart's desire.
It's marked here with an icon on the far left.
As you drive into the village of Elmley Castle, you'll
see the church in the distance to the left, and the Queen
Elizabeth pub is on your right. Shame that the grand old
sign depicting QE1 in all her Tudor glory has been
replaced with a giant Q, a modern touch that might
match the revamped interior of the tavern but looks
all wrong on the pole outside. Turn right past the pub
and you're on your way.
You'll see some lovely old Tudor cottages in the first
hundred yards or so. Look for the field and the gate past
the last house on your left.
Hard to miss the gate on the far side of the field because
you're drawn to it by the magnificent pair of cottages,
with a roof that reassures us that the art of thatching isn't
dead yet. It's wonderful that home-owners with a special
property to care for do just that, preserving history while
providing beauty for passers-by to appreciate.
There's plenty more to look at as you plod on up the hill in
search of wide open space and an end to the tarmac! Here's
what you will see at the point where the road turns in to
a track and cars can go no further.
Bluebells! Last time, this track was a bit of a muddy mess
and wild flowers were just starting to colour the embankment.
The camera on our phone does a fairly decent job of picking
them out.
Up next is a choice between two paths, not including the
tractor highway that goes from left to right above. Straight
on takes you up and round to the right to a large open field
that's filled with ewes and lambs at this time of year.
The less-worn track to the left past the pole is a short-cut
to the spot where you'll end up either way, just shy
of a lovely thick wood that for some reason is not named
on the Google aerial photo but is identified as Long
Plantation on map OS190.
Along our way, we encountered a pair of little bleaters
relaxing in the shade while their mum filled her belly
with grass nearby to keep up her milk supply.
Panic! Mama called just once and the wanderers
rushed to her side.
What a relief!
At the top of the rise, you'll come to two gates, and you
will take the one on the left unless you're planning to
rustle sheep. Stay to the left through the gate, and
follow the path through another gate and round to
the left to Long Plantation (on the skyline in the next shot).
Here's the reason we did not get as far as we intended on
Saturday's walk. His name's Dodger, he's five, and he's a
perfect gentleman, as well-behaved as he is handsome.
He's an Australian somethingorother, although to us he
looks a lot like the collie-Alsatian cross that wandered
into our garden in California during a cloudburst, and
never left. We alerted the local dog-pound and plastered
notices throughout the neighbourhood, but no owner ever
came forward. Thank goodness!
Dodger presented me with a stick to throw while Jenny
and his owner, Lisa, got acquainted, and an hour or so
later we (Jen and I) headed home while Lisa and her best
pal went off through the woods. Hopefully, we'll bump
into them again one day...
Take the gate on the left to stroll through the long wood,
or go right and stay right to wend your way to Parson's Tower
or Folly and the 960ft summit of Bredon Hill. In
Nevada and Northern California, we'd hike trails as high
as almost 10,000ft most summer and autumn weekends,
and I promise you, the scenery was no more beautiful than
the vistas you can see from this hilltop.
Not sure if these are the runaway lambs we met before
(we were not formally introduced) but it was feeding
time for this set of twins and they were too busy to
notice us. The way those little tails wriggle like
eels on speed when lambs are suckling is one of
the great sights of springtime!
Gorgeous! No haze today, thanks to the breeze that almost
kept us at home. The Malverns are grand, to be sure,
but Bredon Hill is a lot closer to Tewkesbury and
we're in love with it already.
Perwinkles, we think. They are all over the place,
and we're very grateful.
The view as you head back to Elmley Castle's village
square. First time, I'd left my wallet at home so
couldn't sample a pint, as had become my custom on
walks and bike rides. Last weekend, I came properly equipped
and enjoyed the pub and the staff very much. Pity about
that sore-thumb sign outside, though!
Come back soon!
