In 2007 England experienced a late summer. My cousin and I took a day trip from Topsham, near Exeter in Devon to the wilds of Exmoor in Somerset where the purple heather and yellow gorse bloomed in juxtaposition. We drove up the Exe Valley to the bridge called Tarr Steps.
Tarr Steps, an Ancient Clapper Bridge
Made of stone slabs and boulders that stretch 50 metres across the River Barle, this ancient clapper bridge is probably of medieval origin although some think it is much older. Whatever its age, it is now a Scheduled Ancient Monument, each stone having been carefully numbered in a 1949 survey. Just as well, for it allowed the bridge to be reconstructed after floods in 1952 washed all the stones away.
Tarr Steps is a popular place where visitors take photographs and enjoy traditional teas or luncheon at the nearby Tarr Farm Inn. Many take the lovely walk up the wooded valley of the River Barle to Withypool, with its beautiful riverside scenery. There are said to be otters along the river bank, but all I saw was mole hills in the grass.
With a Land Rover it would have been easy to take the ford beside Tarr Steps, but not with a car. So while my cousin drove around the long way, I walked to Hawkridge, occasionally stepping off the road for a passing car. At first, the road ran through the woods with the river running along side. Then leaving the woods and river, I looked up the hill where the sign said “20%”. One in five did not sound too steep a gradient – until I tried it.
Hawkridge, a Small Village High on Exmoor
The climb was soon forgotten as I came to St Giles church, Hawkridge with its tranquil rural setting overlooking moorland. This ancient little stone church has a carved Norman doorway and a beautiful Norman font. I was happy to find the church open and visitors welcome.
After a quiet look around this lovely church, I found a seat in the road which encircled a tree. The sign in the window opposite said, “Antlers For Sale”. I had found Tom Lock's workshop. Tom has carved walking sticks, knives and key rings from antlers gathered around the forest since the 1970's. His workshop had a fabulous display of old tools covering the side wall. I was intrigued by the experimental candlestick holder on the bench. My cousin found me at the shop, and we drove home.
Back in Devon, a group of bright gypsy wagons camped beside the road, with piebald horses tethered at intervals on the verge. Climbing through another village, we heard church bells peeling and stopped to listen to the bell ringers practising in the gathering dusk accompanied by birds' evening chorus.
It was a glorious day, in a glorious part of England.
Heather Cuthbertson - Heather Cuthbertson is a freelance writer and photographer. She has travelled extensively around her home country of New Zealand, having ...
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