Disorientated around Holme Lacy

Have you ever been out walking or driving and felt sure that you're going (say) north, despite all the evidence pointing to the fact that you're going in the opposite direction? It happened to me recently as we explored the Wye Valley around Holme Lacy in Herefordshire.

The Romans called the Wye Vaga, and not without reason. The name means wandering, an apt name for a river that twists and turns in huge meanders on its way from the Cambrian Mountains to the estuary of the River Severn. The part of the Wye near where I live flows more-or-less south, but around Symonds Yat it turns north, south, north again and then west, all within a few miles. It can be disorienting at times, except that I know I'm on the English side, so when I stand on the bank the river should flow from right to left... which it does.  Easy!

So to Holme Lacy. The bridge where the B4399 meets the B4224 is the clue, for crossing it put us on the Welsh side of the river, despite the fact that we were still in Herefordshire. Did I comprehend this simple fact?  No, I did not.

We parked next to the old railway bridge in Holme Lacy. Leading the way, I confidently took the little path by the railway cutting that runs southeast, but in my mind ran northwest. "We're going the wrong way," declared S- but I wasn't convinced. A hundred yards further on... "We really are going the wrong way. Look at your map!"  O dear; the GPS marker on my Memory Map app told the terrible truth. Sheepishly, I trudged back to the bridge and allowed S- to lead the way down the right path.

The Wye Valley is green and broad in these parts, and the cattle are quite adventurous. We stopped to watch them, the one on the right looking for all the world as if she was doing a spot of fishing. One thing concerned me, though – the river was flowing from left to right. Why was it doing that?!

Deducing that what my fuddled brain really needed was food, we crossed Holme Lacy Bridge and headed for the 'PH' in Mordiford, hoping that it would be serving food on this bank holiday Monday.

Ooo err. Just as my orienteering skills were returning, we seemed to have left the planet!  Joking aside, though, I'm happy to record that The Moon is a very friendly, earth-bound establishment that serves truly excellent food. I had the Steakwich (6oz steak with sauteed onions, rocked and straw fries) which filled me up for £8.95. The Vegwich (£7.95) looked mouth-watering too.

This little place invited closer inspection. Inside, I read about the thankfully long-deceased Mordiford Wyvern. It's said that a young girl called Maud was walking in the woods when she found a baby wyvern (dragon), bright green and no bigger than a cucumber. She took it home as a pet and fed it on milk. It grew fast and began to eat chickens and then sheep, before graduating to cows. Finally, it turned into a man-eater but remained friendly towards Maud. But all that was a long time ago and the woodlands around here are now perfectly safe, though if I see a cucumber in the woods I'm giving it a wide berth.

Returning to Holme Lacy Bridge, we followed the Wye downstream for another mile or so to St Cuthbert's Church. Guide books wax lyrical about its effigies to the Scudamore family, but I was more intrigued by it's present-day use.  No longer a place for worship, care of the building has passed to the Churches Conservation Trust and they have made it available for Champing – the simple concept of camping in ancient churches, according to a notice in the south porch.  What a splendid idea!

 There were no champers when we visited, but they clearly planned to return before bedtime.

In the churchyard I came across these splendid wrought iron gates, which give access to nothing more grand than a field. However, back in the 17th century I imagine that the Scudamores came in this way on Sundays, rather than joining the rabble at the main entrance.

A mystery of St Cuthbert's is why it's here at all, far removed from the town it purports to have served. One theory is that the lumps and bumps in this field, adjacent to the church, mark the site of a long-abandoned medieval village.  However, in the absence of a proper archaeological survey, no-one seems to know for certain.  Come back, Time Team!

Leaving St Cuthbert's, we made our way through the grounds of Holme Lacy House, formerly one of the seats of the Scudamore family. It's now a very smart-looking hotel.

Finally, back in Holme Lacy, S- started the car and turned it in the direction of home. "You're going the wrong way!" I protested.  You, dear reader, will already have deduced that, of course, we were not. O dear.

Total distance walked: 7 miles, including the false start in the wrong direction and the trek to The Moon and back (off the top of the map).