We arrived in Streatley-on-Thames on Friday night. Some of the group had got there earlier, in time for dinner at one of the local pubs and we were just walking down to meet them for night cap when we met them coming the other way with tales of noisy live music. Suitably warned we carried on a bit further to get to the next venue, The Catherine Wheel. This is a timber-framed 18th century pub with a cosy atmosphere and most importantly a couple of excellent real ales to sample. It was so good we were still there when Jim joined us half an hour later. A great way to kick off the weekend.
The next morning we were tucking in to a classic Dave P breakfast aiming for an early start. Debbie’s son, Owen, joined us for the planned 9am start, so naturally we were still dithering about until 9:30.
Our walk headed up the hill from Streatley to join the Ridgeway path. Traditionally known as Britain’s oldest road it wasn’t too much of a surprise that we found ourselves walking past tumuli and a Roman Temple (remains only of course). And there were magnificent views. From the height of the chalk ridge, we could see for miles and all along we were accompanied by soaring red kites.
For centuries the Ridgeway was used as a major highway and like all such roads there were bypass sections. The Fair Mile was one such section that the drovers used, possibly for the same reason we did, which was the direct route down to Moulsford and The Beetle and Wedge public house back down by the Thames.
The pub is pretty close to where one of the old Thames ferry crossings used to run from, and the unusual name comes from boat building. When you are splitting planks you use a metal wedge which you hit with a mallet called a beetle.
After a reviving drink and the temptation of a bowl of chips it was time to complete the last part of our walk – 2 miles along the side of the river. All along the path we could see evidence of the winter flooding with debris in the meadows and meshed into the fences. We had almost got all the way back and were congratulating ourselves on a lucky escape when we encountered water on the path. River water. It was a only short stretch – we could see the other side – but there was no telling how deep it was. Heroically we sent Owen ahead to test the depth. It was deep, but to retreat at this stage would mean a good four mile round trip. So off came the boots and socks, trousers were rolled and slowly we waded through the mucky water. Sadly, it was stony rather than squelchy (Ow! Ow!) but enough river mud to justify careful wiping before reassembling our footwear on the other side. Not far from here back to the hostel, a hot shower and a delicious Thai curry from Chris.
Our Sunday walk took us over the river in the other direction. Walking through Goring we passed Mill Cottage and a small shrine to George Michael, its former owner. It is very nearly 10 years since his death, so those fans have some staying power.
It was another nice day weather-wise. A bit chilly, but at least we kept our feet dry this time. There were more great views but the highlight had to be getting back to Goring in time for tea and cake at Pierreponts café in Goring.
Ali