The Newt in Somerset – August

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Eat Out to Help Out, Hadspen HOuse, Patrice Taravella, The Newt in Somerset

No, this is not a newt, nor a toad, but a small frog. It’s what greeted my bridge partner, Daphne, and me as we walked up the boardwalk to the entry of The Newt in Somerset a week back. We stood still until it had leapt off the side of the boardwalk, to spare it from the clomping feet of the people behind us.

Daphne and I, having met up in the car park, were planning to be very brave. We were going to take advantage of the August ‘Eat Out to Help Out’ scheme, (subsidised of course by the taxpayer, not the Chancellor of the Exchequer), and have a meal in the Garden Café of The Newt, this my fourth visit this year to the gardens. The bravery was that for both of us it was to be the first time that either of us had been nearer than two metres to anyone for more than a fleeting few seconds since lockdown (with the exception of her husband in Daphne’s case.) For me that last time had been breakfast in the Premier Inn at Gatwick Airport on my way back from Morocco, on 15th March.

It was very, very hot, and we had asked to sit outside in recognition of our nervousness. Sadly the area in the shade of the building was not being used as it was part of the café’s one-way exit system. So we got very hot indeed, as there was no shade. (I have suggested they provide table umbrellas in my review of an otherwise really excellent experience.)

They went out of their way to meet Daphne’s dietary needs, and we both very much enjoyed our meals, the ingredients of which were largely grown not far from where we sat. I particularly enjoyed the beetroot and dill butter which formed part of my starter, though it’s invidious to pick anything out.

Daphne, suffering from sciatica, was not in a position to go round the gardens afterwards, but she lives only a few minutes away so can visit any time she likes. We arranged to meet up in her own garden a little later, with another bridge friend.

Here is the view, left to right (a panoramic photo didn’t do it justice,) from the terrace on which we ate.

This edge to a step caught my eye as I left the café.

I walked round the Parabola with its countless varieties of apples.

And left the Parabola though this gateway.

Two visits ago this was a mass of tulips. Last visit it was bare soil.

I love grasses, whether informally placed or formally.

I now went into parts of the garden I had not previously explored.

Hadspen House, the luxury hotel, at the end.

I was too hot to wait for the visitor to leave the view, but am happy to include the lawn mower, who merges into the landscape much better.

Now I walked though the red, white and blue gardens. Or should I say blue, white and red, in a nod to the national flag of Patrice Taravella, the French designer of these gardens? What was his intention? Whichever, I don’t seem to have a representative set of pictures!

I wanted to visit the cottage garden before I left, and to do so had to skirt round this area clockwise, in order to avoid not only getting too close to the children, but also displeasing the stone frogs, large and small, who squirt water at the unsuspecting passer-by. I thought I had succeeded, but a tiny one got my left ankle. In that temperature, that was most welcome.

A look back at part of the Parabola and the Garden Café.

Past the Threshing Barn on the way out,

whose big window was too tempting. Explanation: there is a matching high window the other end, doors at either side, and waving strip lighting in the roof. All the rest is reflection.

Next visit perhaps in September…

Fyne Court

Tags

Andrew Crosse, Fyne Court, Magnum, Meadow brown, National Trust, Social distancing

Having finished my lunch on the stile at Hawkridge Reservoir, I made my way south for some ten minutes to a National Trust property in Somerset that I had not previously visited, Fyne Court. I was planning just to explore the grounds of the 65-acre estate, as I knew that the house had long ago – 1894 in fact – burned down. For generations, the property had belonged to the Crosse family, including one Andrew Crosse, who had been one of the key people to experiment with electricity early in the 19th century. The property was left to the National Trust in 1967.

Once away from the remaining outbuildings, I chose the longest – 40-minutes – of the three short waymarked walks. Pond-dipping was available on one of the other two,

as was what I imagined had been the old kitchen garden.

Two-metre social distancing indicators!

I seem several times recently to have been inside a wood looking out on a field.

Meadow brown

I always like a nice valley.

I was given permission to to take the photo of these two, and to include it in a blog post, even when I said the caption was likely to be ‘Big kids enjoying a tree’.

It was for me to enjoy the next tree, just 50 metres on. The heavens opened when I was between the two, with more of the 3% chance of rain which had been forecast for the day.

I stayed perfectly dry and used the wait to study details.

The rain did not last long,

and when I emerged I found I was not far from my starting point, the outbuildings.

Having looked at the panels, of which this is one, about previous occupants of the property,

I improvised a face mask from an old shirt I had in my backpack (just in case I was cold – quite the opposite!) and went into the tea-room, which had just reopened that afternoon it seemed, and treated myself to a Magnum.

I didn’t fancy sitting around to eat it, but took it back to my car. Just as well – the heavens opened again just as I got there!

I was pleased to find that no roadworks held me up on my way home.

Hawkridge Reservoir

Tags

Brean Down, Bridgwater, Callow Rock quarry, Ebsley, great crested grebe, great spruce bark beetle, green woodpecker, grey heron, Hawkridge Reservoir, Hawkridge Wood, Little egret, Mendip Hills, Ordnance Survey, quantockonline, Quantocks, Scarlet Pimpernel, scaup, sweet chestnut, tufted duck, Wessex Water, yaffle

Fancying a short late morning walk in the Quantock Hills, I googled and found this, thanks to Quantockonline.com

Ideal. Nice length, water, and a picnic spot with a viewpoint. Splendid. Hawkridge Reservoir was built about sixty years ago to provide water to Bridgwater. Technical details here.

50 minutes away from my home according to the satnav. I arrived after 75 minutes – yes, more roadworks. It’s August.

I had some difficulty identifying the car park. I saw a broad entry to what was evidently a car park, but it had no panel saying it was for the public, so I drove on. I found nothing after a couple of hundred metres, so turned back and parked in the one I had seen, where there was just one other car, and this view.

The panel confirmed that this was indeed Hawkridge Reservoir

The instructions said to go to the road and turn west, past a cottage on my left. So what did I do? I confused my east with my west. (My excuse was that, on both Ordnance Survey map and the plan, the car park is shown south of the road when in fact it was north – but I should have been more alert!) That cost me ten minutes. Having corrected my direction I found no cottage to my left, and made my way back to the car park. Faffing about for a while more

increased my loss of time to at least 30 minutes, until I realised that, according to the plan, my starting point should not have been at level of the the reservoir’s dam, but more than halfway along its length. ‘They’ had evidently changed the location of the car park since the plan had been drawn, and my OS map was also pretty old.

No public access to the top of the dam.

Hooray, I now knew where I was, at Point 4 on the plan, not Point 1.

These are either scaup or tufted ducks. They are just minuscule dots on the previous picture, and some fishermen in a boat are not much larger.

The weather forecast having predicted only a 3% chance of rain, I had not taken any rain protection. So it was as well that as I reached the bottom of the slope and this splendid sweet chestnut tree,

and found myself at this stile (check – yes!), when the rain came I was entering this wood.

It was lovely hearing the rain but feeling not a drop of it.

By the time I reached this gate and bridge it had stopped.

Through some private land, now labelled Ebsley Cottage.

Emerging into ‘wilder’ territory once more, I was delighted to see this Scarlet Pimpernel. It is not rare but I had not seen any for a while.

At Point 6 I got a bit cross with the walk description. Quite clearly according to the plan one was to turn left, south-westish. There was a field to the right, but its boundary was on the left, with a wire fence between field and a coniferous wood. But the words said, ‘follow field boundary on the right.’ What was one to do? I turned left and had the boundary on my left. I was TO the right of the fence. The alternative would have been to turn north, up a slope and have another field boundary on my right. And I’d have got lost again.

I now also had the reservoir to my left. Only fishermen (fisherpeople?) have access to the water’s edge, and beyond, on to the water. This is their clubhouse.

I had to turn away to my right for a bit (Point 8), and, as I turned sharp left a minute or so later, was delighted to be able to rest my elbows on a stile to take photos of this yaffle, aka green woodpecker, at a great distance, as it looked for insects in the grass. I took many photos, and couldn’t decide on the best, so here are two.

Someone’s hideaway?

As I encountered these, I couldn’t help but think of my friend Zoe who is always very cautious around cattle. With her words in my ears, I moved well south of them.

A lovely view ahead, spoiled by an ugly deforestation scar.

I turn round – they’re keeping an eye on me.

Above the scar is a flock of sheep.

A look back at the reservoir.

By the hedge there was a couple eating a picnic. Had I been nearer to them I would, with an explanation, have asked permission to take their photo, but an exchange of what the cliché calls ‘a cheery wave’ sufficed as greeting.

Down to the minor road, and to where I was to leave the circumnavigation of the reservoir to go up to the lime kiln, the viewpoint, and the picnic spot, for my late lunch.

Oh! Footpath closed.

And this explains why, and the reason for the ugly scar. The Great Spruce Bark Beetle.

I felt better about the scar now. And was not at a personal level as disappointed as I might have been. I was ready for my lunch, a Great Climb would have been ahead of me, (I have not mentioned hitherto that it was very hot) and I did not have my walking pole with me to help me down the later descent.

I walked on, thinking I should now see the space where the original car park would have been. Instead – yes – I found THE car park, a glorified lay-by, which had I continued another 300 metres I would have found. It had a nice view of the reservoir,

with some swans and a grey heron,

an information board,

and some people, in and out of cars. I walked on,

found the cottage, and the stile at Point 1, and sat on it to eat my picnic, with a lovely view,

and a better view of the swans.

The grey heron had moved to join its cousin, a little egret.

Difficult to get decent pictures at that distance, but there were also great crested grebes,

mallard ducks (?)

and the chance to get a better picture of the egret.

Back at my personal starting point in due course, I thought this quarry, way in the distance and over to my right, must be Callow Rock Quarry, near Cheddar, the entrance to which I have passed many times on the road, but never seen.

This panorama from ‘my’ car park takes in Wales, Brean Down and much of the Mendip Hills, including the above quarry.

It was time to move on to my other visit of the day.

Great Chalfield Manor

Tags

Great Chalfield Manor, National Trust, Wolf Hall

Having visited The Courts Garden in the morning, and as I was too cold to sit still for long outside, Daphne and I sat in our respective cars to eat our lunches in solitary splendour.

Quite a nice view.

Great Chalfield Manor is a 15th century house, much used in filming period drama, (including the BBC’s ‘Wolf Hall’) with an arts and crafts garden. At present, because of the virus, the house is not open, but the garden alone is worth the trip.

The National Trust had, as usual, done a very good job in setting out a one-way system, and we did our best to respect it. We took the long walk and added bits of the shorter one.

As soon as I turned the corner, I recalled my previous visit, which, my photographic records tell me, was almost exactly three years ago.

The ‘tents’ – here and elsewhere in the grounds – made by those four trees were characteristic.

The epitome of velvet?

How wonderful it would be to step out of your back door with your morning coffee, and sit on such a patio!

I loved the way the downpipe had been tailored to the arch over the door!

And looking up…

A backwards glance at the end of a day which had, while not becoming sunny, at least warmed up. And hey, it had been pouring with rain the day before. Pity those who had booked for then.

The Courts Garden

Tags

Holt, National Trust, The Courts Garden

In the village of Holt, near Bradford-on-Avon, Wiltshire, not to be confused with Court House, East Quantoxhead, Somerset, on the coast, visited recently. This was the first of two visits, with my friend Daphne, to National Trust properties (gardens only) on the same day recently.

The house, ‘an early Georgian gem’, which is never open for visitors, was built for one of the area’s prosperous cloth manufacturers. The garden was set out at the beginning of the twentieth century by then owner Sir George Hastings, and developed a few years later by subsequent owner, Lady Cecilie Goff. To quote my book on the gardens of the NT, ‘It is a compartmented garden, … each section has a formal structure. Generally it is a quirkier composition [than Hidcote, ‘England’s most influential twentieth century garden’] : Lady Cecilie loved springing surprises.’

A one-way system and social distancing were in place. It was, of course, grey and overcast, with rain threatening, and a bit of a breeze.

I’m not sure what this was about. A result of reduced gardening staff?

Far too chilly for self-respecting bees to be out and about

Juvenile robin

Deliberate, or the drifts of ages?

It was coming up to lunchtime, and we had picnics with us. But I had been over-optimistic with (insufficient) clothing to sit in the breeze, so we moved on to the location of our second visit, and ate separately in our respective cars.