Scowles and Bunnies

Like everyone else, I've heard of the Iron Age but rarely stopped to think where the ancients found their iron. Here in the Forest of Dean there are several areas of iron-bearing crease limestone that have been eroded over geological time to form deep clefts and hollows where the iron could easily be extracted. They're known as scowles and may be unique to this area.  

According to my book Exploring Historic Dean, the most spectacular and best-preserved scowles are in Noxon Park, near Bream, so yesterday I mapped out a short afternoon stroll and decided to take a look.

Getting close proved to be rather harder than I'd expected as the scowles have been fenced off with barbed wire and the occasional padlocked gate. However, there was plenty of evidence of well-worn tracks on the 'wrong' side so, thanking the forest authorities for their concern but happily taking responsibility for my own health and safety, I either vaulted gates or crawled under fences to get a closer look. It's not the first time that this crazy woman has done so — see Forest Odities #3. Perhaps clambering over Cornish rocks and exploring caves as a teenager has imparted a rebellious streak in me. 

Dating evidence is scant but it seems highly likely that these deposits were indeed being mined in the iron age (from around 500 BC) and later became an important source of iron for the Romans.

This scowl was close to the fence and could be photographed in complete safety. Sadly, some idiot had chosen to use it as a rubbish dump. If I caught them I'd be sorely tempted to put a barbed wire fence around them and a padlocked gate!

If you don't relish defying the Health & Safety brigade and are happy to pay £7 for the privilege, there are some really good scowles at Puzzlewood, about 3 miles away from Noxon Park. The tangle of old woodlands around the scowles makes this a magical place and it's been used as a film location for Merlin and episodes of Dr Who. On entry recently we signed an indemnity, promising to keep our adventurous grandchildren to the pathways, then spent the next two hours being just a little bit naughty. What fun!

In Cornwall we call these old surface workings bunnies – a wonderfully descriptive name. There it was copper and tin that attracted the miners of old. The bunnies I know and have attempted to photograph are at Botallack, between Cape Cornwall and Lands End. The much-photographed Crowns engine houses are at the bottom of the cliff.

After that short diversion, I recall that I was supposed to be describing a walk! At the far end of Noxon Park, just as we were emerging from the woodland, we came upon a shooting range. The owner saw me photographing and introduced himself, then we spent a quarter of an hour chatting and putting the world to right. On this day all was quiet, but we learned that it's a popular place with shooting clubs and adventure holiday centres. 

It was now time to turn for home, so we thanked him for making us so welcome then took a footpath back through the forest. 

I doubt that I will ever tire of the scenery around my home; mile after mile of forest paths like these, near Little Drybrook. On this day they were especially beautiful, with sunlight casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.  

This circular walk turned out to be about 4¾ miles long. Unfortunately I forgot to turn off the Simply Walking app when we returned to our car, so it obediently plotted my route all the way back home – 8 miles at a very impressive "walking" pace!

Omega-3: Another health fad bites the dust

It's official – swallowing capsules of fish oil does not reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease.

I confess that I was rather more surprised when I learned that the Pope was Catholic. Supplementing my diet with 'health giving' pills and potions has never appealed, not least because I hardly ever believe the so-called science behind the claims.  Not that that stopped my parents in my younger days insisting that I downed a nightly dose of Seven Seas Cod Liver Oil (yuk!) or dad swallowing his daily halibut oil capsule. But that was a long time ago.

Interestingly, there was more than a hint in the report that taking Omega-3 capsules may actually harm ones health; not because the capsules are in any way bad for you (far from it) but because they may instil a false sense of security, along the lines of "I've taken my dose of Omega-3 so now I can feast on fatty burgers, crisps, sugar-soaked drinks...."

The researchers were at pains to point out that it was the capsules they were criticising, not the fish. Eating fish, especially oily fish such as sardines and salmon, is good for you, though even then the benefits are hard to quantify. The main one appears to be that, when you're eating fish, you're not eating other foods that may be high in saturated fat.  So the recommendation stands that 2-3 portions of fish every week is a big step towards achieving a healthy, balanced diet.  That one I do believe and I'm pleased to say that, right now, my freezer contains salmon, plaice and fish pie mix, and there are tins of sardines, mackerel and tuna (pole & line caught, of course) in the larder.

All of which will not, I am sure, affect the inflated claims of 'health food' suppliers. Claims like this one, that Omega-3 supplements lower cholesterol, reduce symptoms of PMS, prevent cancer (I'd like to see the proof of that one), reduce the risk of heart disease, prevent diabetes....

Eating a healthy, balanced diet will achieve all those things, and doubtless save money too. Now I wonder what the next fad will be? Rubbing Vicks on your feet, maybe?

You're already doing that?  Really?!

Mixed Memories around Midford

Last Monday promised to be another blisteringly hot day for a ramble, so we chose to take things easy with a fairly level walk from Midford (near Bath) to Avoncliff and a section of the Kennet & Avon Canal.

Midford once boasted two railway lines, both of which featured in the 1953 Ealing Comedy The Titfield Thunderbolt. You can see them in this clip from the film, which also includes Pearce & Crups rival bus service.

Back in 1982 I was attending an Open University Summer School in Bath and one afternoon a tutor declared that he would like to visit Midford where two railway viaducts and the remains of the Somerset Coal Canal crossed each other.

The trespass must have happened about here, on the old Titfield branch.
This location would be roughly at the rear of the train in the first photo.

He gathered 4 students to his cause and I volunteered to be the driver.  On arrival, I dropped my passengers near the viaducts then motored about 50 yards down the road to park. In my absence the others had scrambled through a fence and were up on a railway embankment. A worryingly muscular, red-faced neighbour of the landowner then appeared, accusing them of trespassing. "I'm reporting you lot to the police," he declared, "and I've got your car registration number!" As the only one of the party lacking the courage or fool-hardiness to trespass, I pleaded my innocence but he was in no mood to listen. The tutor retorted that it was only 'trespass' if they damaged anything and continued to explore the track bed for another 10 minutes. I, who respected his skills in teaching mathematical modelling but was less certain about his legal ones, just looked on bemusedly. Thankfully, the rest of the Summer School passed off relatively peacefully and the police never called.

Enough of that particular memory. I recall that I was supposed to be describing a walk. Our chosen track climbed some 300ft out of Midford's valley then down to Freshford where, after cooling down and refreshing ourselves at The Inn at Freshford, we came to the banks of the River Avon. We passed a couple from the New World. "Say, what do you think this river is called," asked one. "Just some river," said the other. I suppressed a giggle then, when they were safely out of earshot, burst into hysterical laughter. "Just some river" indeed! Yet how right they had been, for Avon means 'river' so this really was the River River!

At Avoncliff we joined the Kennet & Avon Canal and crossed the impressive aqueduct. "O, I remember this," declared S--. Indeed, we both did as memories flooded back of a wonderful canal holiday, 15 years ago — two sun-bleached weeks exploring the K&A between Bath and Great Bedwyn.

The canal in this area is very beautiful and the shade afforded by the tall trees most welcome. As we walked, we exchanged more 15 year-old memories. "Do you remember the Cain Hill flight of locks?... How could we forget?... The gongoozlers at the top (we felt so proud!)... Exploring Savernake Forest... Lovely meals onboard... Breakfasts in the middle of nowhere... The wine... and more wine!"

This young lady seemed to be feeling the heat, but on closer inspection she turned out not to be real. No wonder she sat so still as we passed.

A little over 2 miles after leaving Avoncliff we arrived at Dundas Aquaduct and the refreshing sight of the Dawdling Dairy. What could we do but buy two ice cream cornets and dawdle a while?

This lift bridge at the opposite end of the aqueduct to the Dawling Dairy marks the beginning of a short length of the Somerset Coal Canal, which predates the K&A by several years. Here was the boatyard from where we had hired our narrowboat. She was called Tulip; I wonder what became of her?

And there she was! Clearly now in private hands but looking immaculate. In 2003 she had been a blue tulip; now she was a black one but unquestionably the same boat.

'Blue' Tulip, 2003

Our path back to Midford lay along the course of the old Titfield line – more accurately the Camerton Branch Line – and soon we passed a cricket ground. Surely this was the one that featured in the film when The Titfield Thunderbolt so distracted the batsman that he was bowled out.

After Monkton Coombe the footpath became much more rural as it threaded its way along the banks of Midford Brook, then beside the old railway line.

At last we were in Midford again but our walk wasn't quite complete. Keen to exorcise the ghosts of summers past, I made my way up past the Hope & Anchor pub, under Midford Viaduct and onto the track bed of the former Somerset & Dorset Railway.  And this time legally, for it's now a cycle way. At one end of the viaduct is Midford Station, where once upon a time one could board a train to Bournmouth in one direction or Bath in the other. The last train departed on 7th March 1966 and I suspected that I'd be in for a long wait for the next one.  Now the time had come for me to depart too.

At 10.1 miles, this didn't quite turn out to be the restful stroll that we had envisaged, but I'm glad we came... not least for the memories.

Antipasto

Four miles from my home, in the little town of Blakeney, there used to be a fine Sicilian-Italian restaurant called La Dolce Vita. The name means 'the good life' and I spent quite a lot of my life there with S--, working through the menu. Even when I enrolled with Slimming World, pasta dishes could be found that were low on syns and high on taste. Then it went bust.

A few weeks later the restaurant reopened as Uncle Tony's – not the most Italian-sounding name I've ever come across but back we went anyway.  It had now acquired an American-Italian theme. Pictures of Hollywood film stars adorned the walls and the melodious tones of Frank Sinatra had replaced the Italian background music.

The menu had been simplified somewhat but the food was beautifully prepared and very tasty. One addition to the menu was a splendid antipasto and this quickly became a favourite of ours.

But there was a problem: whilst they appeared to be doing a brisk trade in take-away meals, we were often the only couple eating in the restaurant. The waiter was laid off, then the young owner announced that he was leaving to run a restaurant in London and handing over the business to his brother. A week later it closed (again).

As I write, the builders are in and we wait to see what the next incarnation will be. In the mean time, the memory of Uncle Tony's lives on in our version of the antipasto.  There must be as many antipasto recipes out there as there are people to prepare them, but if you fancy a nice simple one then this is what you do...

Start by chopping up some crispy salad leaves and a few tomatoes, then toss in a generous helping of olives. I like the green ones.

Choose three varieties of cooked meat. This time I used ham, salami and chorizo. 

Roll the meats together, then cut into slices.

Add a few dollops of your favourite salad dressing and voila! (or whatever the Italian equivalent is).