THE SARSEN WAY 1. Swindon to Chiseldon.

The first step.

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. Lao Tzu. Thankfully I’m not doing a thousand miles, the Sarsen Way is only around 50 miles.

On my train journey down I am pleased I’m not returning to Telford. All trains from Wolverhampton to there are cancelled due to flooding.  On the other hand my train to Bristol makes good time, but I notice all the water lying in the fields.  I then receive a text telling me that my train to Swindon has been cancelled. 

I look at other means of transport between Bristol and Swindon, i.e., the bus. There is one in a couple of hours, I’m tempted to book it as a safety net. Let’s see what happens in Bristol first. Yes, my train is cancelled, but the express to London is going even if delayed.  I jump on, and we make very slow progress through the actual flood waters. Announcements talk of claiming for delays on the internet, I will leave that until I’m home, What do the people without internet do?

I am pleased I postponed this trip down south for a week, I would have been caught in all the downpours over the last few days. 

I’m in Swindon to start my walk, the Sarsen Way, down to Salisbury. I’m hoping to do a few miles this afternoon to Chiseldon. I arrive with time to spare, so catch a bus to the start at Coate Water Country Park.

There is no big send off, only a small waymark on a post. The high diving platform juts out into the lake, swans and pigeons are being fed. Walking around the lake is very pleasant, with lots of mature trees. Everyone else is dog walking, the nation must be getting fitter with all these dogs.

A straight, tarmacked, broad path leads to the  pedestrian bridge over the motorway. The bridge must have cost a fortune with its spiralling concrete.

The noise of the traffic slowly subsides as I wander across lowland downs. A few waymarks are spotted, but l mainly just follow the trodden path on the ground.

In parts the summer growth hides the way, not a lot of traffic.

The rest of the afternoon is alongside a lively little chalky stream which was at one time dammed for the village to wash their sheep. There is nobody about.

I climb up into the village of Chiseldon, where there used to be a railway station. I pass my first Sarsen stone, forgetting to take a photo of it, and the first thatched cottage of the trip.

The first test of my logistics comes at the lonely bus stop, but the number 80 appears and I’m back into Swindon in no time. The centre of Swindon is a mess at present with major road and infrastructure changes taking place. My walk to my hotel is hemmed in by metal fencing which is relieved by artworks painted on the boarding. Some are commissioned and accredited, others are more graffiti style.

Once settled in the Travel Lodge, my home for 5 days, I wander up the road to Regent Circus where it is all happening. There are restaurants and cafes toe to toe. Seeking peace and quiet I search out Chennai Dosa, a chain of southern Indian restaurants. For a franchise their cafes offer really good food at reasonable prices. Rasam Vadai and Masala Dosa.

Meanwhile the girls are arriving at the Meca for a night out, modesty prevents any photographs.

It is always good to get a few miles done after all that travelling and more to the point it will make tomorrow shorter.