Escape to the Forest

 5th to 12th September 2020

It's been a month since I went on holiday, I should get around to writing about it.

Having spent most of my leave this year "staycationing" as the modern parlance has it, or more accurately sitting at home doing SFA because of you-know-what, I really wanted to get away for a week. Hotels seemed like too much faff so I decided to a holiday cottage, at least if everything went tits up and the lock-down returned I could do SFA with different scenery. Where to go in September? Hadn't been to the Forest of Dean in a long time. Ooh look, a converted water mill, that looks nice, clickety-click.

DAY ONE: Estimated journey time 2h 20m. Actual journey time 4h 30m. 

Just my luck to travel on the Saturday that the M4 was shut between J12 and J14. At least the cottage was

easy to find.

It was also comfortable and nicely equipped, far enough away from the main A48 through the village to not suffer from traffic noise but close enough to walk to the village shop (had I needed to), the pub (had I desired to), and the chippy (which I did).

Blakeney (the one in Gloucestershire not the one in Norfolk) is on the edge of the Forest of Dean and close to the Severn estuary. It has no railway station (not any more and when it did it was goods only) although the nearby town of Lydney does which is a short drive away. It's a good place from which to explore the border country which is why I came.

An evening walk towards the Severn along the lane and along footpaths that were in places not exactly made obvious across the fields.

Far reaching views across the Severn from Purton on the west bank to the other Purton on the east bank.

Down through the woods passing only a farmer walking in the fields (I assume - she looked like a farmer anyway), almost to the water's edge. 

Except not quite. For along the riverbank runs the Gloucester to Swansea railway line.

At least this driver sounded his horn with enough time for me to whip the phone out and get a photo as the train passed by next to the footpath. No, I don't write down the numbers.

From the waterside at Gatcombe up through the woods and along narrow lanes then a path cutting across the fields in the last of the daylight, startling a woman walking three dogs who didn't expect to see anyone else here, or so she said.

Then a choice, footpath around the water treatment works or along the unofficial but clearly well trodden disused railway back to the lane a mere hundred yards from the cottage.

A win for the former Forest of Dean Central Railway track bed. And to another bed.

to be continued...