Camino Inglés UK - Day 4 - New Alresford to Winchester St. Cross
Should we stay, or should we go? Well the forecast improved marginally, with rain now almost certain to hit Winchester between 2 and 3pm. An early start would make it viable to at least get to the centre of England’s former capital without getting soaked. And so, at 7.40 that we left our AirBnB with enough gear to get through 2 days and to Southampton.
Now I realise that the more delicate readers of these epistles have not always liked the detail regarding blisters. It is very heartening to report no such issues so far. Slightly sore feet, yes; but no blisters. Those delicate readers may however, wish to jump to the next paragraph at this point……..Sadly there has been quite some discomfort ion my legs and technical areas due to chafing. Supersonic Sudocrem has been a godsend. However, today I’ve been experimenting with with different underwear. Matron suggested that even the softest, fluffiest of M & S’s boxer short range might be bettered by a return to more old-fashioned traditional gear. Yep, budgie smugglers! By a sheer fluke I’d lobbed some in my bag literally at the last minute before leaving home. The experiment was on.
Very soon after leaving we came upon the River Itchen to our left, and watercress beds and streams to our right. Water both sides of our walk was to become a lovely feature numerous times throughout the day. Very beautiful.
I don’t like golf. Too many silly little rules and traditions for my liking. And as for the clothes……. Those who know me very well will inform you that my volatile temperament, when playing sport, is more than a little at odds with golf protocol. Nevertheless, I briefly became a golf fan as the tiny clubhouse at Avington Golf Club was happy to sell coffee and refreshments to passing waifs and strays such myself and the good Lady Norridge. What wise “fore”sight. For the record we had coffee not tee!
From there it was a 10 minute bimble to our first church and stamp, at Itchen Abbas. All very picturesque and quintessentially English. Even the sun made brief attempts to break through.
That set the tone for the next 90 minutes or so, passing through Martyr Worthy and Kings Worthy, picking up stamps along the way. The Itchen pretty much ever present. This really was a beautiful stretch to walk. The best yet. And that’s despite Kings worthy being virtually sandwiched between the M3 and the A34.
Kings Worthy
A brief departure from the day’s journey, if I may? Why oh why isn’t the A34 being developed into a motorway? It’s easily as busy as your average motorway. I accept that the bit through Botley on the western side of Oxford may be a bit problematic. But just knock half of Botley down. Nobody would really notice, surely?
A couple of miles on from Kings Worthy we hit the outskirts of Winchester, and before we knew it the magnificent cathedral was towering before us. Now to get the most important stamp of the walk.
St. Bartholemews Church, Hyde, Winchester
The main doors were closed, and there were signs saying that it was closed as they were rehearsing for a memorial service to some Major-General So And So. This service was taking place at 2.30. Bugger! I wanted a stamp, and to be quite blunt, I wanted it now, before the rain set in later on!
We walked around to the side of the cathedral. There was a small door, but it looked like it was locked. Oh well, worth a try. It opened! The Billy Goat followed nervously. There was another door, and the sound of music behind it. Turn the handle, and we were in. Almost immediately one of the several very smartly suited and booted people on the other side of the naive started waving frantically at me. Bugger! Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound! I waved enthusiastically back and strode meaningfully towards them. Cate sloped sheepishly behind. We were greeted by two exceptionally posh people who explained that the cathedral was closed for the rehearsal. I put on my most forlorn face and explained that all we wanted was to stamp our passports and be orf. Luckily, Mrs Posh, who incidentally must have eaten a whole bowl full of plums, morphed into Mrs Helpful. She must have said “well done” (on our walking achievement) to us at least four times, as she stamped our passports. We scuttled out the tradesmen’s exit tittering like naughty schoolchildren.
Buoyed by our brazen success, we decided to plough on for half an hour to St. Cross Church and Hospital. Surely we could get there before the impending downpour. And so we did. This was a mile and a half of beautiful walking along the Itchen. A great combination of walking in a city, but with a lovely rural feel. Similar to walking the Thames in Oxford.
St. Cross Church and Hospital
From the grounds of the Cathedral we passed Winchester College. A seemingly poverty stricken school where our current, and beloved, Prime Minister was educated. Now it is easy to see how and why he is so in touch with the Great British electorate.
St. Cross Church and Hospital was as good as I’d expected. In most city’s it would be the star attraction. But being 30 minutes walk out of the centre it appears to be a lesser explored gem. The woman there was delightful. She had walked the route we were doing, and effused enthusiasm for it. Passport’s stamped, we found the main road and got the bus back to Winchester city centre.
St. Cross Church and Hospital
On further investigation, it turns out that the memorial service was for Field Marshall Edwin Noel Westby Bramall. Seemingly, he was Chief Of Staff for the Army in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Clearly, he was quite important. It also explained the large numbers of people wearing regimental ties, and being impeccably turned out.
Our room at the hotel wasn’t ready when we got there. So in an act befitting the quality of this blog we went and had sausage chips and beans, and a pint in the local Spoons. A deeply cultural experience indeed.
And lastly, I’m delighted to confirm very successful results from today’s highly technical experiment. In budgies we trust!
Tomorrow, the final push, and longest leg, into Southampton.
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