Scrumpy the Border Terrier pup arrived in the Waller family on Tuesday 12th May and was desperate to join an active walking group who would range far and wide in search of physical challenges and exciting locations to explore. Imagine her disappointment when introduced to Dave, Pete, Phil and Adrian to accompany me on a stroll round Pitcombe. The saving grace was meeting Sully – an instant companionship despite the hilarious contrast in size and temperament. An over-excited hairy ball of energy who couldn’t decide whether to jump up , squat down or chase round in a circle after imaginary mice meeting a calm , sophisticated blonde Adonis who has seen the world and takes his chappie ‘shaken not stirred’. Cautiously Scrumpy was kept on a long lead, while the adventurous Sully wandered ahead and behind us encouraging her to be more independent and enjoy some freedom.
Appropriately enough, our route took us through the cider apple orchards of Hadspen. We were a little late in the season to see the full glory of the trees in blossom but the view is still spectacular from the hillside above Bottom Barn Farm. Rank upon rank of trees from many varieties offering the prospect of limbs laden with golden , orange , crimson and purple fruits and the promise in the autumn of delicious ciders. Looking towards Bruton there are the twin towers of the Dove Cote and the landmark on the horizon of King Alfred’s Tower.
We dropped down into Hadspen , passing through the small herd of gorgeous Red Ruby cattle - a breed native to Devon. Dogs and cows ignored each other. Crossing the lane, we passed the Village Hall on our way up Nettlecombe Hill , admiring the view back across the valley towards Wyke. Trying to ignore the new-build dairy unit which blots the landscape up here, we descended Lancombe Lane which is cloaked in hedgerow and leads past the Jennings’ farm into Pitcombe. The ancient bridge was at times an important crossing point for the Turnpike Road , probably built in the 18th century. Pitcombe lies in the shadow of a substantial railway viaduct which carried the now defunct Somerset and Dorset Railway. Monumental Victorian railway architecture.
Arriving back at the Waller Residence we complied with govt advice by breakfasting on delicious bacon rolls and coffee in the back garden thanks to Sarah’s hospitality. The dogs, by now pals for life, stared hungrily on as the bacon disappeared. As Bogart says at the end of Casablanca – I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship!
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