A long rambling route with a few surprises along the way.
I’m exploring alone deep inside the W Kennett Longbarrow, the tomb of some ancient dignitary or religious leader when I sense the rhythm of drums. Is this some strange mysterious happening? The area is full of legends and fanciful spiritual occurrences, try coming here at the Solcises. The sound of drums is growing louder by the second. Is there a hidden tape recording I’ve activated? All I can see at the deepest point, 30ft in, is a candle burning in a jar. I decide to get out, and once outside, discover the source of the mystic drumming – a merry group of modern pagans is heading up the hill with a drummer leading the way. My peaceful visit comes to an end, and I leave the barrow free for their ‘worshipping’.
Approach to the barrow.
Large sarsen stone.
Entrance.
Going in.
Deeper.
Farthest chamber.
The drummer approaches.
“The West Kennet Long Barrow was built sometime around 3650 BC. Over a period of between 10 – 30 years, the bones of at least 36 individuals were carefully placed in the five stone chambers before they were closed. It probably continued to be an important place for many generations after that. It is part of a cluster of around thirty centred on Avebury”
***
Let’s tell it as it is, I’m doing this stage backwards. Manningford to Avebury.
As you realise by now, I’m based in Swindon, at the functional Travel Lodge, and using buses to get me to and from the stages. This inevitably causes some anxiety
Is the timetable up to date? Do they run every day? Where is the bus stop? There is also some pressure on the day’s walking to avoid missing the last bus. I have had to endure, for me, some very early breakfasts in order to catch a suitably timed bus.
So it comes to today. Avebury is no problem but Manningford, or rather the Manningfords, there are three of them, all part of an ancient manor. They seem to be in the middle of nowhere. The main road bypasses them, but there are bus halts along the way. It will be safer to be dropped off in the middle of nowhere than to try to find those stops at the end of the day. Avebury will have plenty of buses into the evening.
On top of ‘bus anxiety’, I’ve now added ‘phone-map battery anxiety’. Somewhere last evening, probably on the bus, I lost my precious Sarsen Way guidebook. I’m now relying solely on my phone for mapping, which I’m never completely happy about. I miss the chatty information from the guide as much as the detailed route instructions and OS mapping. I scribble a rough version of the map as a backup, let’s see how I get on. 
***
I choose a railway theme for this morning’s murals. Swindon was once the centre for building Great Western engines and rolling stock.
LukeGray depicts Brunel, one of the great railway engineers.
Another rail-themed mural takes my eye as I head for the bus station. This one was painted by Manchester artist Gavin Renshaw depicting a Castle Class locomotivefrom Swidon workshops.
***
The X5, Swindon to Salisbury, goes my way. Alighting at a little bus shelter near Manningford Bohune. Someone has placed two chairs inside, I wouldn’t think many use this stop, it is as I said, in the middle of nowhere. 
Thatched cottages start to appear as I walk up Wick Lane. I feel ‘down south’ at last. The walls have a lovely mix of flints and old bricks.
Still half asleep, I walk on too far and have to retrace my steps to find the almost hidden path over a wooden footbridge. 
I’m the first to tread these fields this morning. I’m heading to the little St. Peter’s Church of Manningford Bruce. Built on a Roman site with evidence from the C12th. It was restored in 1882 when most of the painted interior was added. The reredos screen from that era is particularly fine.
I slip out of the back of the churchyard and along a wall, guarding the Manor House.
There is some primaeval swamp to be crossed in the next half hour, all alongside the infant Avon. Difficult to navigate without the guidebook.
From time to time I hit a minor lane with those exquisite thatched properties.
A railway appears out of nowhere. Could it be the main SW line? 
A little farther on I come across a standing Sarsen stone, marking Swanborough Trump where in 871, Alfred the Great (of the burnt cakes fame) met his brother, Ethelred, on the way to fight the invading Danes, 
I next find myself on the peaceful towpath of the Kennet and Avon Canal. In a mile or so I only see one boat moving. 
High above on the Pewsey Downs, I spot another ‘White Horse’. 
Coming off the canal onto a road, I notice a sign for a farm cafe, Honeystreet. A small cluster of outlets in an old sawmill. As well as the café there is an antiques unit and a crop ring centre! I just opt for a coffee and lemon drizzle cake. An unexpected treat. 
The Saxon church of St. Mary down the road in Alton Barnes has a plain interior with the remains of some lime paintings.
Across the stream, by unusual wooden turnstiles, and connected by a Sarsen paved path, constructed in 1830 for the rector serving both parishes to keep his cassocks clean, is All Saint’s Church in Alton Priory.
The perpendicular tower dominates the surrounding fields. The barn-like interior has big rustic roof trusses and open timbering. The chancel arch is all that remains of the church’s Norman past. The church still contains Jacobean pews. There are two trap doors, which I fail to open, above ancient, ?pagan, Sarsen stones.
Trapdoor.
The yew tree in the grounds is 1700 years old. So the tree predates Christianity. can you imagine that? 
I notice on the outer walls of the tower what look like musket shitholes. Has somebody in the past been having target practice?
Here is a video with more information.
Leaving Alton Priors I notice this sarsen stone embellished with a white horse.
An old sunken bridleway, an extension of the Ridgeway, known as ‘The Hollow’, starts the climb onto the downs. It doesn’t receive much footfall. Small but distinct animal tracks cross it regularly, I try to imagine the little creatures on their nighttime wanderings. Fallen crab apples crunch under my boots with a heady cider aroma.
Now, onto the open down, I make my own way to the top of Walkers Hill, at 262m possibly the highest point of the Sarsen Way. I miss the obvious path. All around are earthworks and dykes, but I fail to find ‘Adam’s Grave’, a long barrow. The views over the vast array of downs are possibly the best I have had, but I know so little of them. They do look good for striding out on. There is a car park down below, so I meet walkers for the first time today.
Walkers Hill, with the White Horse out left.
The summit views eastwards.
Is this Adam’s Grave or was it the summit itself?
Once down near the road, I’m soon going back up again for a long stretch over another down. Somewhere I cross the, probably Saxon, Wansdyke but fail to spot it, there are so many grooves, ditches and depressions around here. My virtual drone isn’t working. In the woods descending, I have a close encounter with a princely Buzzard before it weaves away through the trees. Then on across Lurkeley Hill and through the folds of the downs to East Kennett.
Recognise this/
By the time I’m through the tidy hamlet of East Kennett, more thatched cottages, I’ve walked about 10 miles, but I want to complete the day by visiting the West Kennett Longbarrow farther to the west. I missed it when in Avebury yesterday. 
So back up the down I go, hoping to have the place to myself – I almost do.
***
Backtracking I hit the busy A4 through West Kennett. The bus halt, by an abandoned telephone box, doesn’t look used and I wonder about walking on to Avebury but a bus appears on schedule to take me back to Swindon via a change in bustling Marlborough.
***
***
This evening’s mural, unknitting the past?
It’s been a long day, so I just get a quick Indian meal in the friendly Chaat café, on the way to my hotel. 
