4 July 2016 - Cambridge Club Site, Great Shelford, near Cambridge

Another day of the wide East Anglian skies, wide because here in Cambridgeshire, the land is mostly flat, although it can never compete with the “wide skies” of Outback Australia. It was also another day to show off the golding of the corn crops which cover so much of the countryside all around. 

The term “corn” caused great dissension between my husband and I; I insisted that the crops appeared to be wheat and perhaps barley, not corn. In New Zealand corn is maize or sweet corn, an entirely different crop from what I would consider a cereal crop. Chris insisted that the term was a generic one, and so our argument was solved by the dictionary I picked up in a second hand shop in Billingshurst.  “Corn n. (1) - a cereal plant such as wheat, oats, or barley. (2) - the grain of such plants. (3) US, Canada & NZ - maize.” We were both right. 

But before we headed off this morning to admire such rural scenes, we managed to catch up with Larissa on Skype and spent over half an hour hearing all their family news, then popping up to the closest superstore, Waitrose. We had been only once before in a Waitrose store, at Marlborough in Wiltshire last year. It is reputedly a rather smart store which the plebs (like us) would avoid if there were another at hand. The staff dress smartly and the prices reflect the apparent superior status. 

The Great Barn undergoing re-thatching

However today as we threaded our way through a mess of plant stands near the door, struggling to locate a trolly, we were less than impressed. Chris was so very vocally unimpressed that I insisted he offer me three positive points about the shop as we pulled out. I had to offer a third idea; it is very handy to our camp, and that put an end to the grouchy negativity.

Wimpole Hall is only about ten miles south west; we arrived soon after opening time, flashed our National Trust cards and made our way toward the Home Farm. Entry to this property is quite pricey and this may in part be due to the fact that the Estate is a self-financing property and therefore has to generate its own funds. We saw the property featured on a television programme a couple of years ago, or at least Chris did and I heard it as so much of my television use is, more audio than visual, as I tend to multi-task in the evenings.

The southern aspect of Wimpole Hall

Home Farm largely owes its existence to one of the great pioneers of 18^th century farming: Phillip Yorke, the 3^rd Earl of Hardwicke and owner of Wimpole Hall. It was he who commissioned Sir John Soane, one of the country’s most influential young architects, to draw up plans for a “model” farm at Wimpole, although it was not just the farm that Soane was commissioned to deal to. Much of the renovation of the house at that time was due to his expertise. When the building was completed in 1795, Home Farm was a show piece that set new standards in farming practice. Farming had been carried on here at least since Domesday, with varying success.

In 1936, the estate was let to Captain and Mrs Bambridge. George was familiar with the property, having visited it previously, and within six years, he and his wife took the opportunity to buy it. Elsie Bambridge was the daughter of Rudyard Kipling, and in due course, when her father died, she inherited his wealth and the on-going royalties from his work. The two of them set out to restore the property to its grand state, and with a steady income and single purpose, they achieved this, or at least in part until the Captain died. However Mrs Bambridge continued with great determination, sourcing furniture, fittings and chattels that had once graced the home, or would be in keeping with the restoration. 

The northern aspect of Wimpole Hall

In 1976, she died childless and without extended family, leaving Wimpole to the National Trust in her will. It was only at this stage that the architectural significance of the farm was recognised, giving rise to extensive restoration, rescuing Soane’s buildings.

Nowadays Home Farm has become an approved centre for rare breeds of farm animals. And a place for scores of little school children to come and see the horses, pigs, chickens and rabbits on display. It is a working farm, animals being bred for market, and noisy and smelly as any intensive European farming can be with the animals in stalls, pens and under cover.

After checking out this and the extensive walled garden and orchard, and watching the great barn being re-thatched, we lunched a la fresco, well away from the odours of agriculture, under lovely old trees, then explored the Hall, a wonderful building, so well decorated and so much more welcoming as a home than most of the grand estates we have viewed over the past week or so.

And so we left Walpole most satisfied with our day, having enjoyed the sunshine, the sights and the people we had engaged in conversation, not least an expatriate Kiwi and his English wife who both volunteer here and who subsequently invited us to visit. Alas, we have other plans for the morrow and the days ahead; tomorrow we will head east to Stowmarket and base ourselves there for a week while we catch up with Chris’s family once more and perhaps check out places we missed on our earlier visits.