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Travel diary: A walk in the forest
Jun. 3rd, 2011 02:48 pmFriday, 20 May 2011: The New Forest
I woke up this morning first before 5:00. Very sensibly, I went back to sleep and arose at the more reasonable hour of 8:00. I went downstairs for breakfast, which is where Kate found me about half an hour later.
We chatted while Kate made some breakfast for herself, and by the time Steve joined us, we’d more or less decided on a trip out to the New Forest.
I’ve had a bee in my bonnet about seeing the Forest since I read Edward Rutherfurd’s novel of the same name. The New Forest was set aside and protected by William I so he and his royal buddies could go hunting. Then his son William Rufus was killed there, apparently in a hunting accident (or was it murder?). Now it’s a National Park.
People live in the park; there are whole towns in the park. It’s very unlike the national parks at home (not counting Banff). And people have the right of commoning—that is, allowing livestock to graze and wander at will throughout the park. The park is also famous for the New Forest pony, which is one of the native breeds of pony. It was the ponies I mainly wanted to see.
We caught the train at Emsworth to Brockenhurst, which is one of those towns in the Forest; from Brockenhurst, we took the bus to Lyndhurst, which calls itself the heart of the New Forest. We went first to the New Forest Centre, which has a gift shop and an exhibition area all about the forest, the people who live there, conservation, and all that sort of thing.
We wandered through, not really stopping at much. It seemed mostly geared towards kiddies; if Julieanne were a bit older, she’d have enjoyed it, I’m sure.
We then went back up the high street to a crowded tea shop for lunch, where I had a cheese and chutney sandwich that seemed rather lacking in the chutney department. So really, a cheese sandwich—a shredded-cheese sandwich at that. But it was quite good anyhow.
After lunch, we headed out on our walk. We’d decided to walk from Lyndhurst through the Forest back to Brockenhurst to catch the train, roughly five miles. The walk from Lyndhurst to the Forest pathways was along a very noisy road, not at all pleasant. But soon enough we were in the Forest.
What a grand, majestic place! Huge trees everywhere, it seemed. Foxgloves bloomed by the path. I saw birds I couldn’t identify, butterflies, and a couple of massive grey squirrels. The skies were mostly cloudy, but there was still plenty of sun; I got a couple of magnificent vistas photographed. Steve kindly lent me his camera after I realized I’d left mine back at their place, silly goose that I am.
I was afraid that I wouldn’t see any ponies, though, for a while. I didn’t mind too much, though, because it was a gorgeous walk with good friends, I’d bought a stuffed toy pony for Julieanne, and I’d sent her a postcard as well. Then we spotted one, rather a way off.
I snapped a photo, and we walked on. Near the end of the walk, though, the Forest opened out into meadow… and there were ponies, dozens of them—even foals! I happily tramped across the meadow, pony poo and all, for photos.
We walked on, and there were more ponies. And across a stream, there were the most perfect roly-poly, shaggy ponies in the world. Those were my favourites.
We walked on into Brockenhurst, stopped at a shop for cold drinks, then to the station. We caught the train to Southampton Central, where we changed to the London Victoria and so home to Emsworth.
Once we were in, Kate ordered pizza, and when it arrived we all sat down to eat and watch more “Castle.” That was my first experience of a quintessentially English pizza topping: chicken and sweetcorn. I admit to being rather dubious at first, even though it was my choice, but it turned out to be quite tasty, and I’d be willing to top my own pizza at home with it. After tea, Steve kindly uploaded my photos to Kate’s computer; they’re on my Flickr now, where I can download them at home.
Kate and I had to decide what to do tomorrow. I asked, “Do we know the status of the gig?”, meaning the Duran Duran concert we’re supposed to see in Nottingham on Sunday. So Kate got on the computer. Alas! Cancelled due to Simon’s laryngitis. Well, postponed, but really, in my case you may as well say cancelled, since I won’t be able to attend any make-up gigs unless it’s next week.
So tomorrow, we’re off to Wells and Glastonbury instead.
I woke up this morning first before 5:00. Very sensibly, I went back to sleep and arose at the more reasonable hour of 8:00. I went downstairs for breakfast, which is where Kate found me about half an hour later.
We chatted while Kate made some breakfast for herself, and by the time Steve joined us, we’d more or less decided on a trip out to the New Forest.
I’ve had a bee in my bonnet about seeing the Forest since I read Edward Rutherfurd’s novel of the same name. The New Forest was set aside and protected by William I so he and his royal buddies could go hunting. Then his son William Rufus was killed there, apparently in a hunting accident (or was it murder?). Now it’s a National Park.
People live in the park; there are whole towns in the park. It’s very unlike the national parks at home (not counting Banff). And people have the right of commoning—that is, allowing livestock to graze and wander at will throughout the park. The park is also famous for the New Forest pony, which is one of the native breeds of pony. It was the ponies I mainly wanted to see.
We caught the train at Emsworth to Brockenhurst, which is one of those towns in the Forest; from Brockenhurst, we took the bus to Lyndhurst, which calls itself the heart of the New Forest. We went first to the New Forest Centre, which has a gift shop and an exhibition area all about the forest, the people who live there, conservation, and all that sort of thing.
We wandered through, not really stopping at much. It seemed mostly geared towards kiddies; if Julieanne were a bit older, she’d have enjoyed it, I’m sure.
We then went back up the high street to a crowded tea shop for lunch, where I had a cheese and chutney sandwich that seemed rather lacking in the chutney department. So really, a cheese sandwich—a shredded-cheese sandwich at that. But it was quite good anyhow.
After lunch, we headed out on our walk. We’d decided to walk from Lyndhurst through the Forest back to Brockenhurst to catch the train, roughly five miles. The walk from Lyndhurst to the Forest pathways was along a very noisy road, not at all pleasant. But soon enough we were in the Forest.
What a grand, majestic place! Huge trees everywhere, it seemed. Foxgloves bloomed by the path. I saw birds I couldn’t identify, butterflies, and a couple of massive grey squirrels. The skies were mostly cloudy, but there was still plenty of sun; I got a couple of magnificent vistas photographed. Steve kindly lent me his camera after I realized I’d left mine back at their place, silly goose that I am.
I was afraid that I wouldn’t see any ponies, though, for a while. I didn’t mind too much, though, because it was a gorgeous walk with good friends, I’d bought a stuffed toy pony for Julieanne, and I’d sent her a postcard as well. Then we spotted one, rather a way off.
I snapped a photo, and we walked on. Near the end of the walk, though, the Forest opened out into meadow… and there were ponies, dozens of them—even foals! I happily tramped across the meadow, pony poo and all, for photos.
We walked on, and there were more ponies. And across a stream, there were the most perfect roly-poly, shaggy ponies in the world. Those were my favourites.
We walked on into Brockenhurst, stopped at a shop for cold drinks, then to the station. We caught the train to Southampton Central, where we changed to the London Victoria and so home to Emsworth.
Once we were in, Kate ordered pizza, and when it arrived we all sat down to eat and watch more “Castle.” That was my first experience of a quintessentially English pizza topping: chicken and sweetcorn. I admit to being rather dubious at first, even though it was my choice, but it turned out to be quite tasty, and I’d be willing to top my own pizza at home with it. After tea, Steve kindly uploaded my photos to Kate’s computer; they’re on my Flickr now, where I can download them at home.
Kate and I had to decide what to do tomorrow. I asked, “Do we know the status of the gig?”, meaning the Duran Duran concert we’re supposed to see in Nottingham on Sunday. So Kate got on the computer. Alas! Cancelled due to Simon’s laryngitis. Well, postponed, but really, in my case you may as well say cancelled, since I won’t be able to attend any make-up gigs unless it’s next week.
So tomorrow, we’re off to Wells and Glastonbury instead.
