Golden Days before the Winter Dark

We have recently been blessed with some of those glorious, golden autumn days that often occur around this time of the year - days when everything seems to stand still, when not a leaf moves or a bird flies by; days that have the remnants of sultry summer days, but also a component of change - subtle ripening that builds to the rosy abundance of harvest time .

We took some time on Monday to get out and about to enjoy the countryside while the weather is still good. As an inveterate church crawler, I often put an itinerary together as a ‘steeple chase’,  creating a navigation pathway amongst villages,  between church and church, spires and towers.

I've mentioned before that I consider the British parish church to be one of the greatest repositories of People’s art hidden away in full view; even for those without religious beliefs, I have found at least one item of artistic merit (in my eyes at least) in every church that I have ever encountered, that is worth seeking out or at least being pleasantly surprised by on a fleeting visit. The experience is even more pleasurable if you can read the symbology behind so many of the artefacts and adornments inside and out of the building itself, and I would always recommend gaining a little knowledge of what may be found there before paying a visit.

Our first stop was not, however a tiny village, but the larger town of Bampton at the hub of our ‘visit wheel’ which has, over the last decade, become known internationally as one of the locations in which ‘Downton Abbey’ has been filmed. It's a town barely larger than a village, so it was not surprising to see both enthusiastic evidence of the filming and the tourist influx which has been created, in the form of ‘The Downton Mile’ – a  hand drawn map, which you can download here (and also watch a very interesting short video narrated by Hugh Bonneville on the history of the Old Grammar School).  But there was also a notice in one residence complaining of the fact that 30,000 visitors had ‘besieged’ the town (with  a population of round only 2,600 in 2019), which I can quite imagine must have given a sense of being invaded rather than visited. Downton Abbey did not bring joy to everyone!

St Mary's Church

'Mrs Crawley's'

The Old Grammar School, now Library ('Downton Cottage Hospital')

The charm of the town does not just hinge on the fact that it became ‘Downton’ however – much of the characterful, prosperous architecture hails from the 17^th & 18^th century - being a market town built on the thriving wool trade since at least the 13^th century. It also has a claim to fame as having a particularly enthusiastic Morris Dance tradition – a pursuit that is commemorated in this market square mosaic – and in the name of a local pub!

After a light lunch, we meandered slowly back - but what we hadn't bargained on when we ventured out on our meander was that, although churches in our own County are now by and large open for private prayer, in other counties it is not necessarily the same. In the area we visited (known as ‘The Land of the 12 Churches’), those that I had placed on our itinerary were all still locked. Some of them had notices declaring that the key was with a key holder if we wanted access, but these would have been time consuming to track down, so we contented ourselves with wandering around four small, very peaceful Cotswold villages, just enjoying their ancient vernacular architecture.

Alvescot

There is nothing quite so delightful as wandering around a little English village in September sunlight, with hardly another person around; most of our encounters were with workmen, carefully repairing old stone walls - and even that was a joy to behold, to see ancient structures being loved and cared for, their future ensured for another century. We ended up  in the villages of Alvescot, Black Bourton, Kencot and Broadwell,  and though the churches were closed - no matter, as there were still the churchyards to explore! It was just a delight to wander around the  little village lanes and alleyways, gathering photographs - the only souvenirs I usually collect these days.

Kencot

 And at our last stop, the lovely autumnal sight of four Crab apple trees inside the church wall, bending low with fruit. It was only when we took a walk around that churchyard that we noticed that the trees were depositing much of their fruit on the ground inside the wall, abundantly spread and many already rotting.

Broadwell

We thus felt no guilt whatsoever in gathering up the ripe, unblemished fruit in a carrier bag to bring home with us. That bag is now sitting in the kitchen, awaiting attention this afternoon to be turned into a batch of Crabapple jam to join the jars of Blackberry and Apple jam and the Fig and Date chutney which are now sitting on  my pantry shelves. (Update – all now bubbling in the slow cooker 😊 )

I often ponder on what I see offered to visitors to my country as examples of ‘typical Britain”, and I think it must sometimes be a disappointment to be presented with a tawdry,  ‘Disneyfied’ picture of ‘Ye Olde England’. The chances are that if you are visiting as part of a coach load on a whistle stop tour of the popular  ‘sites’, you won't really see old England (or Wales or Scotland). But the footprint and the fabric of our history IS very much still there - down a little one track lane, accessible probably only in quite a small car - or on foot. It won't have souvenir stalls or fast food, but if you can find it (and I can tell you where to look), in one’s and two’s (four at the most), you will be rewarded with restrained beauty, peace and tranquillity, living history and a courteous but possibly rather reserved British  welcome.

But if you can't get here, I plan many more ventures down those little country lanes,  and it will be my pleasure to take you along with me.

Comments

[Diana Birchall]

Loved walking around with you today. That "Kencot" is exquisite! And the crabapples...a world away.

[Ardi]

What a wonderful out-and-about you had today! Thanks for taking us along. I totally agree with you about seeing the real England...my sister and I, in a rental car with much apprehension about driving "on the wrong side of the road", drove to my pen pal's home. This included an overnight at a B & B out in the country (Midlands) at an old Vicarage. We were there this time of year also and I remember driving along and coming to a small village sort of nestled in a valley. There was a pub, set close by the road, which had ivy all over the side of it. The ivy was a brilliant scarlet and my regret was that the road being so narrow and traffic behind us, we weren't able to stop for a photo. But it is engraved in my mind always.

[Liese]

Dear Roz, thank you very much for sharing ! What a good thing to take the beautiful apples, a wonderful autumn harvest, home with you.