Tuesday, 28 May 2019

TADS #29:Hungerford to Newbury (or Sons (and Daughters) of Kennet).

"Teach me to live, that I may dread the grave as little as my bed" - Thomas Hardy, Jude the Obscure.



I'd written the third TADS walk back in January before I even knew that one of my/our best mates, Bugsy. was ill. By the date we'd set for the walk we were in that uncomfortable, anxious, and sad lull between the passing away and the funeral. Bugsy only joined TADS as part of the 'car lot', his last appearance being last May's wonderful walk from Eastleigh to Winchester and here we were, a year later, he was gone. 

Too tragic to fully grasp. It's a day out he would have enjoyed too as as well as regular TADS walkers like myself, Adam, Shep, Tina, Neil B, and Belinda we were joined by a host of newbies, many very close friends of him. First timers included Ben and Tracy. Neil W, Tony, Darren, Cheryl, and Tommy (the youngest by far to ever complete a TADS trek but he's got previous on my London by Foot Art Deco tour two Mays back), and Jo. Alex, Grace, and Izzie popped along for a bit but, alas, that doesn't get them into the TADS grouping which now (including absentees:- Teresa, Pam, Kathy, Rachael, Virginie, Eamon, Eva, Colin, Valia, and Catherine) numbers twenty-four. It's unlikely but it'd be great to have them all out for a walk one day.

I'd arrived early in Hungerford (trains arrived at 1112 or 1212, I went for the earlier and met the Mooneys and Jo on it and the Martins in Hungerford). With an hour to wait we predictably headed straight to the pub for a way too early pint (in some of our cases, mine predictably). The John O'Gaunt was pleasant and quiet (as you'd expect) but the gents portrayed a strange fascination with Nigel Farage. The others had popped into another pub for a half while we finished up so it was a bit later than intended by the time we hit the canal.




Thomas Hardy came from Dorset but both Hungerford and our destination, Newbury, are rumoured to be the basis for the fictional Kennetbridge in 1895's Jude the Obscure. When people think of Hungerford now it's probably not Hardy they first think of.

On 19th August 1987 the 27 year old unemployed antique dealer and handyman Michael Ryan shot and killed sixteen people, one dog, and, finally himself. His motivation, posited one pscyhologist at the time, was 'anger and contempt for the ordinary life around him'. It remains England's worst spree killing and Britain's second worst. Thomas Hamilton killed sixteen school kids, a teacher, and himself in Dunblane in 1996.

Names the town are presumably happier to be associated with include Will Young (born Wokingham), Robert Snooks (the last highwayman to be hanged in England in 1761 - well maybe not so much him), the former Southampton & QPR player Charlie Austin, John of Gaunt (the third son of Edward III who gave his name to our first pub stop), and Ivarr the Boneless, a Viking invader whose brothers included the brilliantly named Bjorn Ironside, Ubba, and Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye!

William of Orange, in 1688, was offered the Crown while staying at the Bear Inn in Hungerford. A town we left via the Kennet & Avon canal, which runs pretty much parallel to the Kennet and Dun rivers. The Dun emptying into the Kennet not far from Hungerford and the Kennet running into the Thames in Reading. It's source in Silbury Hill near Avebury. The Kennet & Avon flows eighty-seven miles from Bristol to Reading. It, essentially, links the Avon with the Thames.





We followed the southern footpath past trout farms, mills, locks, and a few beautiful houses though the most inviting one came after only 5.5k. The Dundas Arms meant we'd reached Kintbury and it was time for another drink and its lovely canalside beer garden. The trouble with such a large group is you can't get to talk to everyone but people seemed content enough. Alex had some spiel about Kintbury (underground railways and the like, I can't remember now, for the shame) which was more interesting than mine and I'd sat against a cross in a graveyard, got Ben to play Bugsy's Piers End track, and done some of my spiel.























We continued along the canal until we reached Shepherd's Bridge which we crossed and headed SE over Irish Hill Road and Old Lane. Well, after a fashion. We got lost in a field and had to avoid standing on the crops and then pass through a barbed wire fence. The reward being, for me, some lovely rusty water on the road that waited for us.



























We'd seen rusty fire equipment, rectangular cows, a man taking an afternoon nap in a field, and we were soon to see a topiary tribute to a friend of some of us, JPH - John Patrick Higgins. The walkers were stretching out, legs getting tired perhaps, but we passed the recently reopened White Hart in Hamstead Marshall (the site of three motte-and-bailey castles) without a reparation and continued on to The Craven Arms

Hamstead Marshall was the seat from the 1620s to the 1980s, of the Earls of Craven and a mansion was built for the 1st Earl of Craven intended for Charles I's sister Elizabeth of Bohemia - even though she had already died! Royals, eh?




We did manage to squeeze in another couple of victuals (a two pint mistake) at The Craven Arms in Enborne (after me, Darren, and Cheryl had finally located the entrance - a Bean moment for sure) where a little bit of drizzle took us inside to see Man City spanking Watford 6-0 in the FA Cup Final. Not the event it once was.

The second pint and a stop to look at some extraordinary farm (rabbits, goats, geese, donkeys, chickens in all together - all competing for food and all making a serious amount of noise) meant we rushed the final, rather lengthy, segment. My bad!












Lots of photos got taken though (from so many sources I can't credit them - but thanks - and of such number that sorting seems too long a job) so I'm taking the unusual decision of closing the blog out way before the end of the photos. You can scroll down and check them out. You really ought to.

We passed stiles, fields, beautiful houses and, because we were close to dinner time my route (and spiel :-() was ignored and we took the quickest route into Newbs. Still a good 15.5 miles but Tommy fancied thirteen more! We didn't get to loop the park, have a pint in to The Lock Stock & Barrel or even pay much attention to the Clock Tower but I did get to talk to some about Newbury and its history.

The HQ of Vodafone UK was built on the cloth trade, personified by the 16c Jack O'Newbury and saw two battles in the English Civil War (1643, Wash Common and 1644, Speen) and its list of Wikipedia notables included Richard Adams (born there), Michael Bond (ditto), Bruno Brookes, and Keith 'Cheggers can't bo Boozers' Chegwin, Sebastian Faulks, Gerald Finzi, Michael Hordern, and Theo Walcott.

Walcott's Thatcham really but never mind. This was a very different TADS event in some ways and it was less about spiel than friendship and raising a glass to Bugsy. As fifteen of us, Jo had popped off early doors but Alex was treating Izzie and Grace to a late night, took our seats in the Gurkha Cafe (Gurkha beer and a pleasant enough but not outstanding paneer concoction for me) it felt like a day that had ended too soon. Nothing compared to a life that had ended too soon.

Next month we're in Nutbourne to walk around Chichester Harbour to Chichester itself and it'd be great to see as many faces, old and new to TADS, back in their walking boots. I've prepared three sheets of A4 for you and even called it Nutbourne City Limits. Of course I have.



















































































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