A Woodland Walk

My Sunday afternoon was spent walking in the woods, breathing in the fresh, if a little dank, country air, trekking through very wet and muddy orchards over carpets of rotting Annie Elizabeth and Bramley apples, vibrant, shiny rosehips brightening the hedgerows and the distant smell of bonfires offering comfort in the damp air.

During this time of year, one of my favourite places to walk is The Knapp and Papermill Nature Reserve in Alfrick, Worcestershire. The surrounding countryside is stunning and a delight for walkers and nature lovers alike.

I have been coming here for many years, it is a welcome retreat. A place of peace, of beauty and of nature.

Leigh Brook meanders through the Reserve and is home to kingfishers, dragonflies, otters and much more. I have seen none,  but I still sit and study the water, for seemingly hours, hoping for a movement, a dash of colour, a glimpse.

Papermill cottage, long disused, sits happily in the meadow, always a welcome sight, now housing bats, birds and bees. Derelict but still serving this important purpose. It has always conjured up Hansen and Gretel like stories alluding to characters who may have lived here over the years.

The woods are a magical place, full of imagined fairies and elves and a kind of Nordic charm. Transporting me swiftly back to childhood memories and the nostalgia of my Norweigan adventure. The scenery indeed is almost Scandanavian in places, imitating fjord like backdrops, standing dream like against the dramatic clouded skyline basking in its autumn glory.

 

 

When my children were younger, they loved to play in the brook during hot summer days, resembling the freckled, sandy haired boys of Enid Blyton novels, creating their own adventures, waving their empty fishing nets (they could never keep them still for long enough to catch anything) and launching sticks off the small bridge to watch them appear on the other side. A lovely image which stays with me whenever I visit. They still love it here but now are more apt to imitate characters created by Tolkein, hobbits hiding in the woods and charging around with make believe weapons and battle cries, destroying the peace somewhat.

The purpose of todays visit was not only to walk off the culinary delights of the previous evening but also to photograph the changing landscape. The last time I was here was in early Spring when the bluebells filled the meadow, but autumn is my favourite and so I am not much company today, instead disappearing to take endless images of trees.

A flock of very friendly sheep followed us through the meadow, particularly interested in their visitors and posing for the odd photograph, much to my pleasure.

And so, I eventually dragged myself away. The walk had earned us a hearty roast upon our return to the warmth of the kitchen and purring log burner and to dream of my next visit, when the frost is hard on the ground, hedges full of icy cobwebs and the first flurries of snow in the air.


The Knapp and Papermill Reserve are cared for by Worcestershire Wildlife Trust. www.worcswildlifetrust.co.uk

The Traditional Country Pub

The traditional country pub is often the heart of the village, particularly in rural communities. A place where deals are done, every occasion is celebrated, in life and death, and people come together, debating, gossiping and sharing stories over a pint of good ale.

Those who know me will know that I like a good pub; one where the atmosphere is warm, the beer (or wine) is good, people friendly and which has a sense of community.

With 26 pubs closing each week in the UK, this is becoming increasingly difficult to find.

My quest to find the 'perfect' country pub has taken me far and wide and I will admit that I have struggled, changing allegiance from one pub to the next, often depending on the season: some pubs are wonderful in winter with huge,welcoming log fires and low beamed ceilings while others come into their own during the summer months with bustling, sun filled gardens and great local cider.

I enjoy the village pubs attached to the Donnington Brewery in the Cotswolds and have learnt much about their history and of the Arkells who founded the brewery in 1865. Interesting stories which are a part of our heritage and as the unscrupulous PubCos continue to plough through the legacy of the great British 'local', destroying everything in its path, it is something we need to fight for. Something worth saving.The removal of pubs (and local shops) destroys communities, politicans will do well to remember this.

And so, I have discovered that there is no such thing, or rather, there is, but it takes many guises.

Although well travelled, I concentrate, in the main, around the Midlands, Cotswolds and Marches. Within this area there are many, many great pubs, far too many to mention here. However, I will mention one particular favourite. I call it my 'local' even though it is seven miles away. It is the best pub by far anywhere near to me and probably the one I frequent more than all others, so I shall continue to affectionately use the term.

 


The Talbot at Knightwick is a rather handsome 15th century former coaching inn, set on the A44 between Worcester and Bromyard, it serves many surrounding villages and is a gem. The Talbot is set within the stunning Teme valley, at the bottom of Ankerdine hill and on the River Teme itself, which has threatened its livelihood on more than one occasion over the years, most recently in 2007. The inn also holds fishing rights for those wishing to spend some time here, contemplating life in this most beautiful part of the country.

The Clift family are currently celebrating their 30th year at the pub and have built it into everything which is good about the traditional country pub, embracing the community and countryside around.

The local farming community often determines the menu and the blackboard can change midway through the afternoon as 'Rabbit' or 'Pigeon' appears in fresh white letters. The food is sourced locally; the butcher's shop is located a mere stones throw away, over the footbridge, their very own Teme Valley Brewery is just behind the pub, producing the wittily titled 'This' 'That' and 'T'Other' and the area full of artisan producers and farmers alike.

The locals in the bar offer good banter, warming to strangers provided they offer interest or entertainment, yet giving nothing away. Here, acceptance is hard earned. I have been visiting the pub for 6 years, as well as photographing local shoots and I am still known as 'the city slicker' albeit with affection! I was not born here, I am not even English, I will never be properly accepted as a local and yet I feel part of it, these people enrich my life. Here you will find local gamekeepers, farmers, butchers, gardeners, builders, mechanics, every part of the community represented.

The pub's calendar is full, the Green Hop Beer Festival in October is a joy to behold; music, madness, morris dancers, all set in the backdrop of the beautiful Teme valley. The pub also hosts the monthly Teme Valley farmers' market which includes simple country rituals such as the blessing of the plough, still rightfully upkeeping traditions of old.

A word of warning: If you happen upon the bar following a local shoot then beware or be brave, it can be a dangerous place. A rare occasion when the juke box comes to life and Fleetwood Mac resonates throughout the valley, accompanied by raucous laughter, far fetched tales of the day, much camaraderie and a sense of what a pub should be. A place to gather and to celebrate. And without it, this very rural community would not flourish.

 

As I say, there are many more I could write about: Pubs in deepest, darkest Wales where I have found great people (and dogs) with whom to watch the rugby; pubs where you have stepped back in time and arrived in your great grandmother's drawing room but have fabulous diverse, local characters and where I have made many friends over the years; Laurie Lee's beloved Woolpack overlooking the beautiful Slad valley; Cotswold pubs with amazing staff, food and atmosphere (yes, Ebrington Arms, I mean you!) and simply beautiful buildings rich in history and character like the Live and Let Live on Bringsty Common (above). Each and every one a formidable country pub.

As for this weekend, well I shall be in the Talbot, first having a hearty Ploughman's in front of the fire, before heading into the bar, accepting the good spirited banter and glass of wine and hopefully, watching a decent game of rugby and I cannot think of anywhere else I would prefer to be.