Nashoba, Base Green, Suffolk

    

Yesterday was spent revisiting Constable country, on the border between Suffolk and Essex, Denham Vale through which flows the River Stour. When we called at Flatford Mill three years ago, everything was closed and we wandered about reading the few interpretative panels and along part of the river path toward Manningtree. When we travelled by train on that horrible day just less than two weeks ago, I could not help but be impressed by the views of Manningtree as we passed through, despite my turmoil of emotions, and so it was all of this that drove me to plan today’s outing, a day of sunshine and a need to escape the confines of the caravan.

We set off down the A14 toward Ipswich, soon joining the A12 heading for Colchester, or London beyond, but soon pulled off south to Manningtree which sits at the mouth of the River Stour. I had searched information on the town in our dated Towns of Great Britain bible to no avail, which is probably explained by an entry in Wikipedia which states that “Manningtree has traditionally claimed to be the smallest town in England…. later it was proposed that Manningtree should merge with Mistley and Lawford to form a single parish, losing its separate identity as a town…..  As of 2018 such a merger has not occurred and the town council presently claims to be the smallest by area.”

Entry to the town, albeit barely that, is through a rather uninspiring industrial area, and the High Street where one can find easy parking, seems to have little in the way of retail excitement, however like so many villages and towns in England, the shops and services are cunningly camouflaged amongst residential buildings without the hullabaloo of signage we have grown up with DownUnder.

Manningtree grew up as a market town in the Middle Ages and has been one ever since, these days with twice weekly markets, on Fridays and Saturdays. Many of the local Georgian facades disguise much older timber-framed buildings behind, and during the 1600s Matthew Hopkins, “Witchfinder General”, lived here and carried out his infamous practices, and in neighbouring Mistley.

We wandered along The Walls, the route that take one along the riverbank to Mistley, a working port on the River Stour since Roman times, still operating today, and from where one has lovely views across the Stour Estuary, a bird watchers paradise, especially those with an interest in Mistley Swans.

The River Stour was important to this area for centuries, being the collection and distributing area for both imports up the river of coal, timber and London horse manure, and exports out to sea of grain, bricks, flour and hay for London horses. The estuary was the alive with spit sail barges until he late 19^th century when rail transport spelled the death knell to this shipping trade.

Large numbers of Mute Swans have lived at Mistley since the 17^th century, the Mistley herd one of the largest in the United Kingdom. They once fed on washings from the maltings at Mistley, but now with this food source all gone, the herd has reduced from its peak of seven hundred birds to those we were able to see from The Wall.

The land stretching along the river, from Manningtree to Mistley Towers, is common land and the saltings and mudflats provide a vital wildlife habitat while the dry land is a magnet for walkers and cyclists. 

We had already spotted an English Heritage attraction on our map at Mistley, this the Mistley Towers. In the first instance we had dismissed this as not worth seeking out, however our walk along the riverside brought us here without effort so we were able to tick this off our EH index after all.

The Towers are the remains of an unconventional church originally built in 1735, remodelled by pre-eminent Georgian architect Robert Adam in 1776. The towers were retained as a navigational aid when the church was demolished in 1870 and a new church was built on another site.

We picked up a packet of jam donuts at the Tesco Express which seemed to be the best Manningtree had to offer its residents by way of “supermarkets”; I believe my husband is intent on fattening us both up before we are driven to embark on a drastic diet. He suggested we consume these parked in the High Street, however I suggested we look for a more appropriate picnic site, a more often than not impossible task here in the UK. Serendipitously, we came upon a small spot just out of town, the Cattawade Picnic Site on the edge of the Stour Estuary which serves as an ideal bird watching spot and as the junction of two picturesque and historic long distance trails, the forty three mile Stour & Orwell Walk and the sixty mile Stour Valley Path, this second exploring Constable Country, landscape familiar and much depicted by the very famous local artist, John Constable some two hundred years ago.

In those days and before, the River Stour became one of the first “improved” waterways in the country. Dredging to make it deeper and building locks made the river navigable for boats between Manningtree and Sudbury, an important boost to the local economy. Cargo carrying barges, “Stour Lighters”, were used on the river from 1705 until the early 20^th century. These days that stretch of water plays host to the annual “Sudbury to the Sea” two day boating event, held each September. Participants have to provide their own transport, personal safety gear, food and drink, and accommodation, although there is a campsite at the mid-way stage offered along with some food and drink for those who have come a little less prepared. The River Stour Trust provides help and advice along the route, and a safety boat follows along to pull the incompetent out of the water. We thought the trip would be more pleasantly done without the crowds, perhaps in kayaks, however organising transport each end may well be problematic.

The main event of the day was to return to the National Trust treasure, Flatford Mill, not very far upriver from these locations. We waved our Trust membership cards and spent several hours exploring all there is to offer on this wonderful historical and picturesque site: the John Constable exhibition which explains his life and work, wandering about the spots he so loved and immortalised such as Bridge Cottage, Flatford Mill, the Lock, the Dry Dock, Willy Lott’s cottage and the Granary. We retrieved our lunch from the car and set off upriver to Dedham, a three quarter hour meander through the countryside, past herds of docile steers and along the waterway being enjoyed by dozens of dinghy rowers. Arriving at Dedham, we lunched in the graveyard of St Mary’s Church then checked out one of the few religious paintings Constable tried his hand at, hanging inside the church. “The Ascension” was painted in 1821 for a church in Manningtree  and there was a lot of a kerfuffle regarding payment, and the lower half of the painting  reflects the lack of enthusiasm for the commission. I much prefer Constable’s landscapes; in fact am not really a fan of religious or fantasy style compositions.

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, with a tower of almost forty metres high, dates back to 1492, although there has been a church on the same site since at least 1322. 

The history of Dedham stretches back many hundreds of years to at least the Doomsday Book and possibly the Bronze Age. It grew prosperous from the medieval woollen industry and then remained so because wealthy people lived in the village and sent their sons to Dedham Grammar School, which was granted a Royal Charter by Elizabeth I in 1575. Dedham celebrates its connections to three artists: John Constable, Sir Alfred Munnings whose work we discovered in the Norwich Castle Museum last year, or the previous, and whose dedicated art museum is here in Denham,  and the infamous art forger and art restorer, Tom Keating, who reputedly forged over 2,000 works of more than one hundred artists. This last fine celebrity lies buried in the churchyard where we lunched.

 Chris reminded me that we had visited Denham three years ago but it was not until we walked on back to the river to return on the Suffolk bank that I remembered. Today the sun was bright and hot, and the scene was very different to that of my reluctant memory.

After returning to Flatford, we drove up to East Bergolt where John Constable was born in 1776 and spent his childhood, later returning over and over again when he chose to paint away from his London studio. This Suffolk village is absolutely charming, full of very beautiful dwellings and several public buildings worthy of note.

The rather odd looking St Mary the Virgin church here in East Bergolt dates from about 1350 and is late perpendicular in style. The tower, begun in 1525, was never finished. Instead the bells were housed in a bell cage, a separate structure alongside the church, built in 1531. The five bells are considered to be the heaviest still rung in England and are rung pushed by hand, rather than pulled by rope.

We wandered about this delightful village eating ice-creams, as if the morning donuts had not been enough, before returning to the car and heading home, an easy route back up the dual carriageway.

Today has been a rest day if a day chasing chores can be considered so. The alarm went off at 6 am, an absolute horror to the retired freelance traveller; we had an appointment in Bury St Edmunds with a garage to check out the air-conditioning unit in the Sorrento and to have the tow-ball lowered. This latter task had been attempted by both Clarke brothers but without hydraulic tools; the bolts are stubborn and while the professionals managed stage one this morning, they were unable to successfully complete the task. The gases injected into the air-conditioning system a year ago were still there; it seems the compressor has died and the cost of replacement is exorbitant. We have decided that we will be better off opening the windows if weather conditions demand.

We called into our preferred laundry in Bury St Edmunds and were greeted by the very polite Turkish proprietor with whom we are now familiar; his manners are delightfully old fashioned. Today the weather forecast suggested we were best served by nature than his commercial driers, so returned to Nashoba to complete this very domestic task.

Later we drove to Stowupland  to visit Chris’s sister, who received us in her normal hospitable manner, surrounded by stacks of cardboard boxes and shelves of knickknacks still to be packed. We discussed her decoration needs and look forward to finalising the arrangement in two days’ time. We may well get away from Suffolk before the end of next week, hence we have started to discuss possible routes and forward camping sites.