Our last planned trip of the year and we wanted to go somewhere new but fairly close to home. The Cotswolds sounded appealing and so we set off on a simple (albeit boring) drive along the M4 and up the M5. The last few days had heralded beautiful Autumnal weather, warm sunny days and crisp evenings, but today dawned misty and chilly – we made sure we packed extra clothes and a mini overnight heater.
With me still suffering the after effects of food poisoning at the weekend, and The Man in the middle of a heavy cold we were a bit lack lustre about the whole expedition. We struggled to get the pitch sorted and found we had forgotton our chilli dinner, but we set off in good heart for a walk along the Gloucester and Sharpness canal which backed our site. We had to be quick because with the clocks going back, the sun was due to set at 16:40!
The caravan site didn’t make any stunning first impressions. It’s an independent enterprize and at first glance is a bit basic and sparse. You have to get out of the car to open the gate each time you come and go (hope it doesn’t rain) and the ‘new’ shower blocks were at most, ‘functional’. You pass one section of the site that seems to have a couple of old run down caravans permanently, but neglectfully pitched, which lends it all a rather depressing air.
There’s a pub right next door which will come in very handy. After our canal walk we planned to have a drink and maybe a meal to replace the missing chilli. But dogs are not allowed in the bar and our choice was to sit outside in the cold and dark. We gave it a miss and went back to van where there is always a doggy welcome and plenty of cold wine and lager served in an ambience of warmth, comfort and conviviality.
Wednesday 2nd November
After a surprizingly restful night (The Man has a heavy cold with all the accompanying wheezing and coughing), the day dawned with brilliant blue skies making everything look bright and cheerful.
After morning ablutions and a quick walk along the canal with The Dog we set off to explore Stroud. I don’t know why we picked Stroud, but it was convenient, not as big as Gloucester and sounded appealing. It was a marvelous little town. Lots of odd streets and bespoke shops where we were happy to get a little bit lost. As well as forgetting the chilli (residing in the freezer at home) we found we had forgotton The Dog’s lead – left hanging on its peg in the van! So we improvised with the camera strap and set off jauntily for the first pet shop we could find. Lots of shops were dog friendly which made the town seem very warm and convivial, and we thoroughly enjoyed our visit.
From here we set off for Woodchester Park, a National Trust wooded valley containing a lost landscape with the reamins of an 18 -19th century landscape park, a chain of five lakes and an unfinished mansion. Woodchester Mansion is an unfinished, Gothic revival mansion house in Woodchester Park. The mansion was abandoned by its builders in the middle of construction, leaving behind a building that appears complete from the outside, but with floors, plaster and whole rooms missing inside. It has remained in this state since the mid-1870s.
It was glorious. We did a circular walk to the mansion hoping for afternoon tea and cake, but it was closed for Winter. It didn’t matter – the woods were at their glorious Autumn best with gold upon gold of beech and oak.
Due to the missing chilli (am I becoming a bit repetative about this?) we needed to make alternative evening meal arrangements, so after consulting http://www.doggiepubs.org.uk we made for Frampton on Severn to sample the culinary delights promised at the Three Horseshoes on The Green. Alas, we were too early as the pub wasn’t open, so we left Frampton – deceptively distant from the Severn, and made our way back home. The Tudor Arms pub next to the camp site looked very unpromising when we’d arrived last night, but after approaching it from the other side and finding out that The Dog was, after all, welcome (albeit in the ‘back room’), we went in there and had a relatively civilised passable pub supper.
Thursday 3rd November
This morning wasn’t as bright as yesterday and there was a decided nip in the air, but the sun made a weak attempt to greet our day and at times quite valiantly brightened the silver clouds.
I poured over the maps, guides and internet last night to plan our day and was a bit disappointed with the seeming lack of things to do in the area. There are only so many quaint Cotswold villages that you can admire and most attractions are aimed at families with children, not dogs. We are camping right next to The Wildlife and Wetlands Centre but alas we can’t visit with The Dog. We just had to be content with listening to all the birds chorussing us in the morning.
So today’s plan was to visit Gloucester, and then explore Arlingham, a town at the end of the country’s longest cul-de-sac and poised on a peninsula on a sharp horseshoe bend in the River Severn.
Gloucester was a bit of a disappointment. I imagined something majestic and historical like Oxford, but the town centre seemed a bit tired, brightening up slightly for the cathedral, and then completely giving up its identity (and soul) for the newly refurbished and mistakenly named ‘historic docks’.
It was quite depressing. All we had achieved was a brief admiring view of the cathedral and some arty photos (strategically cutting out the scaffolding) and buying tonight’s meal (remember the missing chilli) in Marks & Spencer’s.
So onto Arlingham. It meant retracing our steps through Frampton (assuredly not on the Severn) and driving on and on until the end of the road staring across the ‘Mighty Severn’ to the town of Newnham on the other side of the river. So close but temptingly out of reach, with jaunty rows of houses and a church spire beckoning all to admire on the rise of a hill, with the charms of the Forest of Dean laid out at its rear. The river was at low tide and the fascinating Severn bore not due for another 12 days (see below), so we looked at the mud, both snapping out of our reverie at the same time when The Dog threatened to run off the grassy bank neck deep into it!
The Severn Bore is one of Britain’s few truly spectacular natural phenomena. It is a large surge wave in the estuary of the River Severn, where the tidal range is the 2nd highest in the world, being as much as 50 feet (approx. 15.4m). The shape of the Severn estuary is such that the water is funnelled into an increasingly narrow channel as the tide rises, thus forming the large wave. As well as the width of the river decreasing rapidly, then so does the depth of the river also change rapidly, thereby forming a funnel shape. Therefore as the incoming tide travels up the estuary, it is routed into an ever decreasing channel. Consequently the surge wave or bore is formed.
Someone had kindly organised four walks that surrounded the town, taking in various sites and aspects of the river and all conveniently passing the village pub, the Red Lion. We set off on an edited version of the Salmon Walk and enjoyed a mile or two of tranquil meandering with The Dog happily trotting at our heels. We were home in time to get the awning packed away before the sun went down.
Me, the man, our dog, and a van 