Petrified in Pensford

The main wander this week was from Pensford to Stanford Drew and back again - yes one we have done a number of times  - well I like it! It ticks all the boxes, near to home, beautiful scenery , a decent pub for lunch and of course a stone circle.

This time should have been no different but we had hit a day when the church tower at Pensford was open to visitors. This wasn't to be missed so getting back just in the nick of time before it closed, up we went.

I should have been warned by the rather small and narrow doorway...

I should have further been warned by the warning that you went up at your own risk...

.....and by the offer of torches

and lastly by the suggestion that you waited at the halfway station for those at the top to come down!






The first part wasn't too bad, other than the steps were small and steep and it was dark. And I had a bulky backpack.

 I was relieved  to reach the halfway station. It was dark, very dark but using the camera flash  showed some interesting ironwork.

After the halfway stage came the belfry. I decided to carry on up and visit the belfry itself on the way down. This proved to be a mistake,


The steps got smaller, steeper and darker  -  no handrail to hold on to, just the smooth limestone of the walls. There were similarities with the broch at Mousa but much longer and Mousa did at least have a handrail.

None too soon the top was reached  and we emerged into daylight. The top had a narrow parapet around  and some spectacular views.

A long long way down!

A nice view of the disused viaduct.










I delayed as long as possible at the top as I wasn't looking forward to the descent. To re-enter the tower required an initial careful reversing into the hole and then a 180 degree turn whilst holding on to the top step.  In the dark and the steps only a few inches wide. ..

This is where my backpack and I got wedged and I had visions of falling. Fortunately I had friends above who managed to free me and I started down. This was far worse than coming up and I completely forgot to stop at the belfry in my haste to be safely down!

It was well worth it though  - but I don't think I'd do it again.

Forever Imber

Imber - an English ghost village on Salisbury plain. It was a thriving community until 1943 when the villagers were forced to evacuate to allow the village to be used to train American troops for the D Day landings. Although the villagers were told they would be able to return after the war, this never happened and the village is still used to train the army in the skills needed for street fighting.

The village is an active military training site and access is limited to a couple of days a year. There is little now left of the original village other than memories and photographs and of course St Giles Church.

We approached from the Warminster side, across the empty plain littered with the corpses of rusting tanks and notices every hundred yards or so warning of the dangers of unexploded military devices and forbidding the public to leave the road.

The plain is eerily quiet, no traffic, no electricity wires, just acres of grass, trees and flocks of birds. As it is out of bounds to the public it is a haven for wildlife with many rare species of animals - including the dormouse. Today we saw large flocks of fieldfares.

Driving into Imber itself is a surreal experience. The original old houses have been relaced with roughly built facsimiles of modern houses. Made of breeze block they have holes where the doors and windows would be and their own set of notices saying to keep out.

The only real surviving building is the church. This stands on the site of an earlier building but the current structure dates from  13CE. Most of the interior features were removed when the village was taken over and are scattered amongst other local churches but a few hints of what was still remain.

Some early graffitti in the porch

Some of the wall paintings dating from the 13 and 15th Centuries still survive giving a tantalising hint at the lavish decoration that must have once adorned the walls.

Even the stone of the archeways was painted. The church is now being actively conserved after years of minimal upkeep. It is still consecrated and occasional services held there.






There are recent burials in the surrounding graveyard which has some fascinating memorial stones, most of which are sadly in a very poor state of repair.
  

   

.

On the Level

Despite  no let up in the strong winds this weekend I thought I'd venture out anyway as it wasn't actually raining.

A necessary trip for some new walking trousers selected the direction so it was to South Somerset we headed and the village of Burrowbridge.

I've been passed Burrow Mump many times but have never before stopped and climbed it so despite the dull day  why not now?

Mump is Anglo Saxon for Hill and the remains of St Michael's Church are now an official war memorial. The overall impression is of a minature Glastonbury Tor. The Tor itself was just visible on the horizen.

Although the views from the top are spectacular  I was unable to capture the panoramas entirely to my satisfaction.

The view to the left is over towards Athelney ( of King Alfred and the burnt cakes fame)

Swing round 90 degrees though and the view is entirely different. The wetlands are spread out below you and teeming with wildlife.





 

The church itself is now in poor condition with hawthorn bushes growing inside. Despite the howling gale the inside of the church was very sheltered and the hawthorn was even starting to put out some new leaves.

 Although some Roman   finds have been made there, nothing ealier seems to have been found. I would be very surprised though if the site wasn't in use from a much earlier date.