Subtitled 'Uphill to Loxton', not a geographical clue as both places are pretty much at sea level. We planned to do only a section of this 12-mile, yes 12-mile, walk, but got a bit carried away by bravado and a sense of adventure somewhere around mile 3, which was the only really practical short-cut spot.
The walk had been exceptionally scenic and pleasant up to this point,
and we were now on a gently ascending, very quite road were lovely views
of the levels to Weston, and over to Brean Down were unfolding. So on
this very bench the decision was made to press on...
Apart from the scenic views, there were some interesting houses; some rather gross...
... and some rather rural...
From near the top of the lane we could see down the valley to the M5
and even Crooks Peak
There followed a descent to the small village of Loxton, where we were clearly both feeling quite knackered, and a bit daunted by the thought of a 6-mile walk home, that being normally a fairly respectable walking distance for us anyway. We were encouraged by the knowledge that the return journey should be fairly flat, all along the levels. This was true, but unfortunately didn't mean that it would be pleasant. A lengthy walk along a moderately busy road (no pavement) ended by a trout farm where a footpath took us across a heavily overgrown meadow, (knackering), very overgrown stiles and bridges (nettles, brambles, etc) and rather boring field edges. We reached a farm where an unexpected (ie not known by Geoff) footpath diversion took us up a hill where at least we had some pleasant walking (having been reassured about our route by a dogwalker) before descending to Breadon Bridge where we rejoined our intended route. We then had a very rough and decayed footpath along the river Axe to follow, where we opted instead to walk between maize plants in a huge field, had to climb a fence to get access to a bridge passing a caravan site, and had to battle more hostile undergrowth to find our track.
By now both feeling rather footsore (there had been a rest in some long grass that we both found hard to end) we followed a quiet lane (ignoring a diversion into some fields on the original plan that was clearly going to be murder), and turned onto a track which was clearly our last section, heading for Uphill and 'good car'. A good many large swans...
and a horse whose mummy might have been a Freisian cow...
were seen. Shortly after this we were on a causeway across the flood meadow, and arrived, absolutely shattered, back at the car. A postscript: home to utterly wonderful steak and kidney pie gifted by David and Athene and kept in the freezer for an occasion such as this.
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