Gulliver’s Milton Keynes Club Site, Buckinghamshire

I failed to mention that we are camped immediately next door to a commercial fun fair named Gulliver’s Land which caters principally for families with children between two and thirteen years of age. This means that there should not, in principal, be groups of loud uncouth youths terrorising the public. Certainly from our posse in the camp, we are able to hear the childish screams of delight or terror on the roller coaster arrangement that can be glimpsed through a gap above the trees. It means too that this camping ground must surely be an excellent base from which to entertain school holiday children, and even more so if the family come with their bicycles and make the most of the hundreds of kilometres of cycling trails there are round and about this basically flat city.

For us, more set on avoiding the exuberance of families and their school age children, we decided that today would be a good day to spend at Wobern Abbey, the family home of the 15^th Duke and Duchess of Bedford on the border between Bedfordshire and Buckinghamshire which has been open to the public since 1955.

The Abbey and the surrounding lands was set out and founded as a Cistercian abbey in 1145. It was taken by Henry VIII during the dissolution and held by the crown until it was given to John Russel, 1^st Earl of Bedford in 1547. The Abbey was rebuilt roughly on the footprint of the abbey, starting in 1744 for the 4^th Duke.

The Russels have featured in English history through the decades as Prime Ministers, Ambassadors, Lord High Admirals and philosophers although not all of these the direct line through the Earls to the Dukes.

In more recent times, following the Second World War, dry rot was discovered and half the Abbey was subsequently demolished. When the 12^th Duke died in 1953, his son the 13^th Duke was up for heavy death duties. Instead of handing the family estates over to the National Trust, assuming the Trust had wanted to burden itself with the property, he kept ownership and opened the Abbey to the public for the first time, soon adding other channels of income; the Woburn Safari Park, a venue for conferences and weddings, and in August 1967 played host to the “Festival of the Flower Children”, a love-in or music festival, that my dear husband attended in his tender years and remembered the Abbey for.

There are twenty two rooms open to view, filled with family portraits celebrating the power and lineage of aristocrats, as well as the largest private collection of Venetian views painted by Canaletto, specially commissioned by the Duke of the day. Artists work include those by Gainsborough, Rembrandt, Reynolds and Van Dyck, and rather uniquely a collection of pencil works by Queen Victoria and her beloved Prince Albert. 

In the rooms beneath the ground floor, treasures fill secure cabinets: china dinner sets, silver and silver-gilt items, glassware, very little of it to my taste, but all of it warranting kudos for the craftsmanship. And as a final treat for the visitor, the last room beneath the exit level is a grotto, a rather hideous but fascinating room built in the early 17^th century, designed as an undersea cavern which originally included a rockwork niche animated with dripping water as if in a real cave. The walls and curved ceilings are lined with rows of symmetrical and evenly sized shells; it reminded me of a kitsch shell house once open to the public in the far south of New Zealand’s South Island. But tastes are varied and some will surely be mesmerised by this cleverly constructed eyesore.

Aside from this, there are twenty eight acres of beautiful and historic gardens which kept our attention for almost two hours, more an expansive arboretum than formal flower gardens.

When Francis, the 5^th Duke of Bedford, returned from a Grand Tour of Europe in 1787, he began  grand improvements to the forty two acres around the abbey. The famed Capability Brown, of whom I wrote much in my postings last year had died in 1783 and a gap was left in the market as far as guidance to the rich for reshaping their landscapes. 

Humphry Repton was born in 1752 in Bury St Edmunds, our own official address while we are here in England. By 1783 he was on the bones of his bottom, with a wife and seven children to feed, and the income from his artworks not balancing the budget. He decided to earn a living as a professional landscape gardener, and for the next thirty years he travelled up to six hundred miles a month and submitted over four hundred designs for different clients. After a serious carriage accident in 1811, Repton found travelling very hard and carried on working from a bath chair before finally retiring in 1816. He died in 1818 aged sixty six.

In 1804 Repton was commissioned by the 6^th Duke of Bedford to redevelop the gardens and parklands of Woburn Abbey, which over the past 260 years had been transformed from a monastery to a palatial family home. While some of Repton’s ideas proved too fanciful for the 6^th Duke and Duchess, it is Repton who is given the credit for the gardens and parklands of Woburn. 

We had driven through the property across beautiful tree scattered grassland, populated by great herds of deer, truly a picturesque introduction to our day. Through the many generations, the Russels had exhibited a great interest in the natural world and one of the many interesting stories of the conservation world belongs to the Dukes of Bedford.

In the middle of the 19^th century, the Roman Catholic Church sent missionaries to China to save souls, which probably did account in part to the large number of Christians who exist in China today. But more importantly, or interestingly, it was Pere Armand David who discovered a tiny herd of rare deer, known as Milu,  in  the Emperor’s private game park near Beijing, deer that had not been seen in the wild for 1,500 years (a claim that seems rather without basis). Intrigued by their unusual features, antlers like deer, a head like a horse, hooves of a cow, and tail like a donkey, all of which gave rise to the name Milu, meaning “the four unlikes”, he returned to France with a hides, where they were classified by a naturalist at the Natural History Museum and named after the missionary, Pere David’s Deer. Interestingly during Pere David’s twelve years in China, he discovered fifty eight species of birds, one hundred species of insects and several mammals including the Giant Panda and the Golden Monkey.

In 1895 the walls of the Emperor’s Royal Hunting Ground were destroyed in a heavy flood, and most of the deer either escaped and were killed and eaten by starving peasants. Fewer than thirty remained, but then in 1900, during the Boxer Rebellion, the last of these were killed and eaten by the troops who occupied the garden.

However there were still some of these deer elsewhere in the world, having been gifted to heads of state or illegally transported to Europe for exhibition or breeding. Herbandt Russell, 11^th Duke of Bedford made a concentrated effort to gather the survivors together on his property at Woburn in an effort to conserve the species. This was easier said than done, especially during the difficult years of the 19^th century World Wars, however the Russells were determined, and from the original gene pool of just eighteen, the herd slowly increased and by  1989 there were 1600 head in the Wobern Deer Park. In 1985, twenty Milu deer were repatriated to China, released into the Nan Haizi Milu Park in Beijing, and a similar number again in 1987. Today there are over 5,000 Pere David’s or Milu deer in the world, thanks to the efforts of the Dukes of Bedford and all those who facilitated a process not only fraught with natural obstacles, but political and cultural as well. 

Needless to say we enjoyed our five hours at Woburn Abbey, and found much to interest us, much more than I have recounted here. Like Chatsworth and Hatfield House, this is a private attraction and does cost, but the residents of the Abbey, past and present,  have played significant  parts in history, some having been beheaded for their efforts, and most walking hand in hand with the royals of the land. It is therefore an important part of England’s history and I was very glad we had set aside a day to visit. 

Gulliver’s Milton Keynes Club Site, Buckinghamshire

Yesterday we travelled across to our spot here in Buckinghamshire, along the A414 through Hertfordshire, then up the M1 through a southern corner of Bedfordshire. This camp is much smaller than that at Hertford with just seventy five pitches, but it is as busy with families with school age children making the most of the mid-term break. Despite the weekenders heading home again, back to work, there were no problems en route, however we did get away mid-morning, as is our usual practice.

Apart from setting up camp, we did nothing but venture out to the Lidl superstore across the town, and then saw very little but parks and trees and little evidence of anything else.

Milton Keynes is one of those new towns, where the overflow of the London population was steered to in the middle of last century. When it was formally designated a “new town” in 1967, Milton Keynes incorporated Bletchley, Wolverton and Stoney Stratford and the little village of Milton Keynes a few miles east of the planned centre. In 1961 the urban area covered by this was about 53,000; by 2011 it was 229,941.

As we drove across to Lidl, I remarked to Chris that it reminded me of Canberra, the purpose built modern capital of Australia, and this was confirmed when I read later of the design style that was adopted here in England, where grid roads and squares and intensive plantings, lakes and parkland are the order of the day, and where no building was to be higher than the highest tree.

Today we rose to better weather, a sign of another improved spell. After attending to a load of laundry, we headed off into the centre of Milton Keynes, guided by Tomtom, because without a navigational device, one would become hopelessly lost amongst the roundabouts and boulevards. Our first attempt to find a park was thwarted by a kind local who responded to my horror at the £2 an hour charge, by suggesting there was cheaper parking to be found the other side of the city centre, still within walking distance. In fact the entire “city centre” is a compact area, well laid out with wide avenues and town planning at the forefront rather than the offbeat whims of random architects. The shopping area is modern and spacious; in fact "space" is the one word that comes to mind as I consider the layout.

We spent a couple of hours wandering about, finally tracking down an internet café to have some printing done, examining the wares of several shoe shops before settling on a pair in the market place, locating a hairdresser who specialised in cuts rather than other weird and wonderful coiffures and acquiring the day’s newspaper to catch up on the latest opinions and scandal.

We seem to have encountered several strange connections with New Zealand of late; today my hairdresser told me she had spent two years working in Kaitaia, the small country town two or so hours north of our own, the Indian stall holder whose brother lives in Manukau, Auckland, where Chris lived before he moved north to live with me, (he showed us a YouTube video of a Kiwi girl making chapatti in his home province of  the Punjab) and then at the Marina, we spied a canal boat named “Waiheke”, which is the name of a popular island in the Hauraki Gulf to the east of Auckland. Strange coincidences indeed!

We spent the afternoon enjoying a section of the Grand Union Canal, initially making our way to the Milton Keynes Marina near Pear Tree Bridge. There we easily found free parking and set off in a southerly direction for an hour, covering the two and a half miles to Fenny Stratford Lock. Unlike our progress along the Lea Valley Navigation, we were not hindered by fellow walkers, or cyclists, although there were perhaps half a dozen likeminded walkers, and a smattering of chaps trying their luck at fishing, none of whom seemed to be catching anything. We were informed that there are rudd, carp and roach to be caught, or at least those are the names I remember. A few days ago in the other canal we had seen four kilo carp and smaller barbel spawning, a sight which was of great excitement to one who was looking forward to the Lea Valley open season.

Here, as along the banks of the Lea, we saw a variety of river boats, many of the narrow boats untidy, even eyesores. It seems that there are many who live permanently on their boats, few of whom have any desire to care, clean or tidy their space. Some seem to be used as garden sheds, full of long gathered bits that just might become useful, and some are laden with plant receptacles which makes one think the occupants would be better living on terra firma where they might keep a proper garden. Of course these are only our personal observations, but our comments and criticism might be more valid that some; we too have chosen to live a little off the grid and in confined accommodation.

We walked as far as the first lock beyond the city and surrounding parkland. The Grand Union Canal stretches for 137 miles between Birmingham and London, and has one hundred and sixty six locks, but the fifteen mile stretch through Milton Keynes is lock free until  Fenny Stratford. This particular lock has the smallest rise on the canal at just 11 inches, which begs the question, why have a lock at all? This was echoed by a couple passing through the lock while we watched. Here too there is a swivel bridge which needs to be swung out of the way for craft to pass through. We assisted in a modest fashion in return for information from the boatman’s perspective.

Back at camp we found some of our fellows gone; perhaps they had simply delayed their weekend departure to miss the mayhem on the road? The washing had dried and I needed to put my feet up again; tow path walking is both wonderful and exhausting especially when we are not renowned for wandering at snail pace.

Hertford Club Site, Hertfordshire

Our last day in Hertfordshire has been spent in the Lee Valley, or more specifically in the Regional Park of that name.  The park covers 10,000 acres running alongside of the River Lea and is a mess of rivers, navigable waterways, flood relief channels and lakes.

The Lee Valley was once home to a variety of industry; gravel pits, waterworks sites, distilleries and munitions factories, but over the years much of the land fell into neglect. Even before the end of the last war, it was suggested that the valley be regenerated for public use. But it remained dormant until in 1961 the Mayor of Hackney took up the challenge and by 1963 an appraisal of the Valley’s potential as a vast leisure and recreational resource had been done. Royal Assent was granted in 1966 and the Lee Valley Regional Park was finally constituted in 1967. 

When London bid successfully for the 2012 Summer Olympics, much of the southern half of the Lee Valley Park was developed to form Olympic Park.

Extraction of the deposits of sand and gravel deposits left by the last ice age started at Bowyers Water in the 1920s and even continues today. However some of these pits have been filled with waste and become meadows and others gradually filled with water to become a haven for wildlife; birds, insects and plants.

We drove through narrow country lanes to Broxbourne where we parked and accessed the Lee Navigation, then set off south along the canal for four and a half miles to just south of the Waltham Town Lock, before heading eastwards into the Country Park, where we wandered up and round the many lakes and waterways. 

Water birds were plentiful, swans and visiting Canada geese with their young, ducks and coots, and here unlike yesterday, flocks of seagulls with bullet shaped noses in flight. We found these to be black headed gulls, and when not in flight, not to be as fascinating after all. We looked out for otters; there are at least four families in residence, after all having disappeared for decades of pollution. Apart from nature’s wildlife there were an abundance of walkers, cyclists and mariners enjoying the hireage of small electric boats, apart from the narrow-boats and launches one would expect upon the waterways.

We returned to the car after four and a half hours of walking, a little sun burned and weary. Back at camp we were accosted by one of our neighbours and his visiting mate, who had cycled over from St Albans for the day. The cyclist was keen to make the acquaintance of fellow countrymen; he is a Kiwi himself who has been resident here in the UK for over ten years. We spent some time chatting with both, the host having cycled much of New Zealand himself, and we agreed that England offered much better walking and cycling opportunities than our little country on the other side of the world.

Hertford Club Site, Hertfordshire

This morning we left later than planned; short sharp storms passed across from the west, but by 10am, the skies had cleared again and we expected similar weather to that of the last few days. We drove into the centre of Hertford, just over a mile away, and parked in the multi-story car park. From here, after coming to grips with the parking charge system, this one unlike anything encountered before, we wandered down into the market streets, colourful and busy, and found our way through to the Information Centre to gather maps and brochures.

From there it was just across the road to the Castle Gardens and a wander around the old historical structure. The Normans built a castle here in the first couple of years after their invasion, to control the river and the town. They certainly didn’t waste any time once they were satisfied they were the conquerors! It has amazed us how quickly castles and fortresses sprang up so soon after 1066. Just over a century later, Henry II enlarged and strengthened the castle as part of the defences of London, which incidentally today is just twenty two minutes away on the train, if there are no holdups.

The castle passed briefly into French hands about fifty years later, and then in 1304 became a Royal Palace for the next three hundred years. Between 1346 and 1359 it was prison to my many times great-grandfather King David II of Scotland and King John of France, who was no relation to me at all. Between 1564 and 1589, it housed Parliament, the Law Courts and the Privy Councils during the plague in London.

In 1627 it was granted to the Earl of Salisbury, he of Hatfield House fame, whose descendants own it to this day. Over the years the grounds have been used for fattening cattle for the London meat markets, the gatehouse was the first home to the East India College and also a medical dispensary for the poor. In 1911 the castle was leased to the Corporation of Hertford as offices and public gardens. So in answer to those overheard yesterday asking how the Cecil family finance the upkeep of their glorious Hatfield House and their wealthy  lifestyle; they are landlords extraordinaire.

We returned to the car park and retrieved our picnic lunch, then set off across the town centre for the Lea Navigation, the canalised river incorporating the River Lea (also known as River Lee) from Hertford Castle to the River Thames at Bow Creek. The picturesque and unbroken walking and cycling route runs the entire length of the river, a distance of 44.5 kilometres or 27.8 miles and has eighteen locks, and today we were intent on enjoying a little part of it.

We passed the narrow boats tied up along the canal banks, lingered at the Hertford Lock, watching a launch and the tour boat pass through, assisting with the opening and closing of the lock gates, and stopped to watch the wide variety of water birds including Mandarin and Mallard ducks, Great Crested Grebes, and swans, most with large families of cygnets in tow or being piggy-backed.

Half way to Ware we paused to learn about the small canal lading off the main river; the “New River: neither new nor a river, but an aquaduct  built from 1609 and 1613 from here to Islington to bring freshwater from Hertfordshire springs to the capital city. Today Thames water still uses the New River as a source for London’s drinking water as well as providing a new twenty five mile long footpath. The New River path follows, wherever possible, the historic water channel as well as some straightened and piped sections from New Gauge to New River Head. Later, through necessity, we chose to detour via part of this pathway to avoid confrontation with a swan family which had placed themselves either side of the towpath; it is asking for trouble to walk between parents and progeny in the wild. 

We reached the township of Ware, just below the lock of the same name and mooring place of the Water Bus which plies its service between Hertford and Ware twice a day. It was this that we had watched enter the Hertford Lock earlier in the afternoon; it had docked with its full boatload of passengers just as we arrived in Ware ourselves.

We decided when we arrived back at the car park in Hertford that we had probably walked over ten kilometres; I was glad to put my feet up back at camp. There we found even more campers in; our caravan is now surrounded in tents on one side and caravans on the other.