Ferry Meadows Caravan & Motorhome Club Site, Peterborough, Cambridgeshire

Yesterday was spent in no more exciting fashion that one might spend it sitting in a home for the elderly; we popped out late in the morning to shop, yet again, and spent most of the day in front of the goggle box, absorbing political commentary and post-election media stirring commentary in the morning and then in the afternoon, watching the televised final of the men’s tennis at Rolland Garros.

We checked all the surfaces in the cupboards yet again for water leaks and agreed that Chris’s fiddling earlier in the week seemed to have repaired the pump. Outside the sun shone and apart from the wind, it really was a day to be outside walking through the countryside, but there are days when the older member of a duo should be given priority, and Nadal and Wawrinka do not battle it out on the clay every day. And in honour of the Spaniard, we cracked open a bottle of cheap Spanish wine; cheap and Spanish are not words that should ever be matched. I was reminded of the rubbish my friends and I used to drink thirty years ago; international competition has not improved the quality the wine, only tennis.

This morning we uprooted from our spot on the farm and headed eastwards, first toward Lutterworth, then south on the M1, before turning onto the A14 as far as Thrapstow just beyond Kettering, then on up the busy but rural A605 to Peterborough. Green rolling hills and giant wind turbines were the prominent features of the trip.

We arrived at this camp situated within the southern reaches of the Ferry Meadow Country Park, so it is no surprise that it is spread out amongst the trees over an area of thirty acres.  It is a very large camp, with 262 pitches. Wood pigeons and squirrels are numerous, the latter chasing each other about like excited five year olds. We chose to set up on the grassy side of the park, something that has its pros and cons; this is the section favoured by campers travelling with dogs, some up to three, believe it or not.  

Once set up, we drove up to the nearest superstore, a Co-op a couple of miles away to buy bread for tomorrow, then on our return, we set off for a walk through the park. Easy paths, wild flowers, water fowl and birdsong from the hedges, but there was one great surprise. All about the park were well nurtured seedlings of plants that are vilified back home: broom and gorse!

The park which covers an area three and a half miles long, was opened in 1978. Peterborough was designated a town in only 1968, and the park was part of the planning for the new town. More than 2,000 acres of land was set aside to form Nene Park, an area of countryside stretching westward along the valley of the River Nene from the city centre to Wansford. Ferry Meadows is at the heart of Nene Park, with 500 acres of lakes, woodland, grassland and meadows. The land was handed over to the Nene Park Trust in 1988 which is not part of the council and does not receive any council funding.

As part of the construction of the roads in and around Peterborough, which at this early stage of our visit remind me of the roundabouts and hidden urban settlement of Milton Keynes, more than five million tonnes of gravel was extracted from what are now the lakes at Ferry Meadows. The lakes, as well as providing the playground for water activities, play an important role in helping to prevent other areas of the city flooding.

While on one level it has a very recent history, Peterborough, today with a population of just under 200,000, has existed since time immemorial.  Excavation has proved there were folk here nearly 6,000 years ago; a thatched hut from 3,700 BC was turned up by archaeologists.  When the Romans arrived in the first century AD, they built the town of Durobrivae and developed a local pottery industry. Later Christian descendants had their monastery sacked by the Danes in 870, and then fire destroyed its successor in 1117. This is the genesis of the Cathedral, the major feature which draws the tourist to Peterborough.

Peterborough sits on the edge of the flat Fens, in some parts sitting below sea level, and is quite well placed as far as a way spot for those travelling to all points of the compass. When the railways arrived in the 19^th century, the population ballooned and Peterborough became an industrial centre, particularly noted for its brick manufacture, but it was not until after the Second World War, when London was bursting at the seams, it became one of those many New Towns.  

I am sure we will learn more about Peterborough in the days ahead, however some days will be spent travelling back toward the way we have come, to see the places we thought too far to the east from our last camp. The weather forecasts are looking good; we have four full days of sightseeing while based here at Ferry Meadows.