Battered in Bathampton; Befuddled in Bath

My well-thumbed little book The Cotswolds: 40 Town and Country Walks has one called 'Backwater Bath' that looked ideal for a warm summer's day. It's a long time since I last saw Bath, so what could be better than a 3¾ mile walk, with a picnic on Bathampton Downs and an afternoon exploring the delights of Regency Bath?

Rather than park in the city, I had the brilliant idea of using my Just Park app to search out a quiet parking space in Bathampton, and found a perfect one – £7 for a whole day's parking on someone's driveway.

The parking place was near the right hand edge of this map. To pick up the recommended route I would have to walk along the A36, turn left opposite the yellow road and pass the pumping station (Ppg Sta). I had a better idea. Why not just walk a few yards, turn left up the first footpath, by the church, along a field boundary and join the the 'book' route at the bottom left of this map?

The path started well but soon became muddy. Clearly this was a route favoured by the cattle of Bathhampton Downs. By now I was regretting wearing sandals (but what else might one wear on a blisteringly hot summer's day?) but foolishly decided to press on, doing my best to skirt around the really muddy bits.  

Then disaster struck. I slipped and fell, grazing one of my legs on a branch and cutting my right arm for good measure. To make matters worse, S- lost both sandals in the mud and had to dig them out by hand. Defeated and very muddy, we returned to the main road and used our supply of water to remove the worst of the mud and inspect the damage.  Mine wasn't a pretty sight.

However, after the application of copious amounts of water and two sticking plasters, spirits (sort of) revived, so we walked along the A36 to the recommended footpath and climbed the hill onto the Downs.

And there, at the top of the hill and enjoying the shade, were the mud-producing cattle.  A thousand curses on your miserable hooves!

It's surprising how beneficial some well-directed cursing can be. The remaining mud on and in my sandals was gradually drying and I was beginning to feel pleased that we hadn't turned tail and gone home after the earlier disaster.  The sun was shining and the world felt good.

High on Bathampton Downs stands Sham Castle. As you can see, it's not a castle at all but just a row of turrets, joined by screen walls. It was built by one Ralph Allen, who wished to make the hillside look more attractive when viewed from the city. Unwittingly, he also created a lovely spot to relax in the shade and eat a picnic.

The ground in front of the 'castle' slopes towards the city; hence the 'keystone' effect in my photo, making the whole structure appear to lean backwards.  When I returned home I attempted to correct the distortion with my PhotoPlus program.  I'm not sure which one I prefer.

Turning the camera in the opposite direction, here's the view of the city.

After Sham Castle came an easy walk downhill to the city, past the palatial residences of Great Pulteney Street. Rightmove has a nice one on the books, a snip at £4,625,000.

I'm now going to confess my deplorable ignorance of Bath and can well imagine my friends shaking their heads in mournful despair. As I walked down Great Pulteney Street I wondered where the bridge over the River Avon - clearly marked on my map - might be. Befuddled is what I was, for there was no sign of it.

cc-by-sa/2.0 - © John Winder - geograph.org.uk/p/5195700

It was only as I walked beside the shops in this photo, studying my OS map, that I realised I was standing over the River Avon!  And, oh look, some steps.  Down I went.

What a wonderful place; so much to explore and so little time to do it. I resolved that, one day in the not too distant future I would definitely return for a day in this fair city – and doubtless to write a blog post or eight about it.  

For now, though, I abandoned my earlier plans to venture further into the city. It was the curious looks from passers by that probably did it, as I was eyed up and down – sticking plasters on leg and arm, mud-splattered feet and shoes...  "Poor old woman," I could almost hear them saying. "At that age, once they start falling they just get worse, you know. Mind's probably going as well."  

The route back to Bathampton lay along the Kennet & Avon Canal. It was in September 2003 that I was last here, enjoying an amazing canal boat holiday that took us as far east as Hungerford.  I can tell you that there's no finer way of arriving in Bath than by canal boat, but something tells me that I'll probably never do it again.  Instead, other canal adventures are on the horizon but they, like my exploration of Bath City, must wait for another day.

Contrary to my 40 Town and Country Walks book, this one turned out to be 4¾ miles long, 

plus an extra ½ mile for the muddy false start