Great Wratting to Glemsford: E2 Day 95

Sunshine made this a beautiful ramble through fields and villages.

Sunshine and blue skies greeted me this morning as I peered out of my window. Such good weather can turn a walk that might otherwise seem mundane into a special event. Today the young wheat was a deeper green, the oilseed rape a brighter yellow and in the verges blue, white, yellow and purple flowers were bursting out. Although the sky clouded over later, it could not spoil a delightful day.

Crossing one of the large fields of young wheat.

As I crossed freshly tilled fields and those with crops already growing. I was puzzled by one particular crop that was widely planted. A passing walker told me they were broad bean plants, and that the local practice was to rotate fields between wheat, oilseed rape and broad beans. 

Reflections in a pond at Baythorne Park, helped by perfect weather.

Stretches of countryside were broken by villages, first Kedington, then Stoke-by-Clare. Stoke is a common place name meaning a settlement linked to a larger one or a religious place. As it is so common it has to be qualified in some way, so Stoke-by-Clare is near the larger village of Clare. I purchased an ice cream and "boutique" lemonade (plum and cherry) from the village shop before continuing to Clare.

Clare had an attractive high street of old houses, although a number of the shops seemed empty. However the historic highlight was the remains of a castle, not that there was much left of it, a wall standing on top of a large mound or "motte". Beneath there were ponds and people picnicking and enjoying a sunny Sunday. I planned to lunch here but the service was so slow in the nearby café that I gave up and walked back to the High Street for a coffee at a quieter place.

The Castle ruins on the motte.

View of the town of Clare from the castle. 

The next settlement, Cavendish, was a quintessentially English village with an ancient church, an old pub, a village green with trees and even a duck pond. In fact I spotted three pubs in the village. Avoiding the temptation of the tea shop I continued to Glemsford, where I am pitched at a campsite on the village outskirts. The afternoon sunlight helped dry my tent, wet from the rain when I last slept in it. I am now at the Angel pub, an ancient hostelry where I had a vegetable curry with chips and an Eton mess (not simultaneously). For the second night running I have over eaten. I will need to take care otherwise I will soon have a belly like some of the pub's other clientele. Afterwards I wondered around the village. It seemed like summer had suddenly arrived. People were in tee shirts and I was managing without my padded jacket this evening. The settling sun was giving me and the village a golden glow.