The Hereward Way: Some Comments

Although the Fens may not be the obvious choice for a long distance walk its one I would recommend as it is so very different from other such paths (also good if you do not like climbing hills).

This February I walked the Hereward Way from its intersection with the Peddars Way in Thetford Forest to the Sixteen Foot Drain by Christchurch village. On a previous occasion I covered the next section to the town of March. Hiking through Thetford forest among the trees on this first part of my walk was pleasant although there was a busy road section and motorcycles roared by in places. Historic sites included a church or two. The forest ends a Brandon, a modest town with accommodation, a Chinese takeaway and similar facilities.

After Brandon the Fens began. A very flat area which was once marsh with a few low islands. Hereward the Wake, after whom the trail is named, fought the Norman invaders in this area in the 11th century, using the marshes to protect him from attack. Drainage has since changed the Fens into fertile farmland. The Hereward Way takes you around Lakenheath Fens, which has been allowed to return to reed filled marshland for the benefit of birds and wildlife. The trail crosses much flat farmland with its drainage ditches and crosses the Old and New Bedford Rivers which ultimately drained this area. The big skies and distant trees are a feature of the walk. The city of Ely was the main urban centre on the section of the Hereward Way I walked and well worth spending a day visiting its cathedral, stained glass museum, tea shops and other sights. As you might expect, the Hereward Way is very flat which may be an attraction for some as most long distance walks are over hills and mountains. Signposting for the Hereward Way was sparse and a map or gpx trail is needed for navigation. 

Ely to Christchurch: Greater Ridgeway Day 28

A day walking through the flat, fertile, farmland of the Fens.

Leaving Ely required some patience. The A10 road acts as a westward boundary to the city, at 8:45 in the morning it was thick with traffic tempting me to make an ill advised "run for it" between fast moving cars. Instead I waited a while to cross in reasonable safety.

Straight footpath across fields of the Fens.

Beneath clouds with ragged patches of blue I then followed quiet pathways and tracks over fields, pleased they were not muddy after a long period with little rain. Across this flat landscape the paths and roads ran straight, turning through right angles at intervals at the edge of fields either ploughed or green with winter wheat or barley. There were exceptions where the roads meandered. I was later told such roads were following the edge of old rivers, which once acted as boundaries. These rivers laid down silt, more stable than the surrounding peat, and more suitable for building houses, so settlements cluster around these water courses. Many of the rivers are now gone, eliminated by man made channels such as the New and Old Bedford rivers and the River Delph, cut ruler straight across the landscape. Into these new rivers water is pumped from the drainage ditches that criss-cross the landscape in straight lines and right angles. Fortunately metal footbridges were in place where the footpaths I was following crossed a drainage ditch. Today, big, yellow excavators with long hydraulic arms were out cleaning these ditches, clearing vegetation to reveal layers of clay beneath the peat.

Clearing out the drainage ditches.

My travels were frustrated by a closed level crossing forcing a detour to the next crossing point. With the flat landscape level crossings were common in the area. The railway line was busy with freight trains carrying containers, graffitied wagons and tank trucks, as well as smarter trains carrying passengers. As I walked along an embankment called the "Hundred Foot Bank" between the New Bedford River and the road, flights of white geese flew over my head, landing in large flocks on green fields to my right. On my left the fields were flooded, with many birds settled there. Later I saw signs of the Wildfowlers Association, so maybe some of the birds were being lined up to be shot!

Looking back down the Hundred Foot Bank, New Bedford River on the right (named after Duke of Bedford who was partly responsible for its creation in the 17th century).

As the road curved between the New and Old Bedford Rivers I admired the resilience of the willow trees, many were much damaged but still sent up shoots from their contorted trunks. Shortly after, the Lamb and Flag beckoned me in for a sandwich for lunch. Apparently little changed for many years, a man at the bar commenting that a large stuffed pike in a glass box had hung on the wall since his childhood. A few kilometres beyond and I reached the village of Christchurch, and beyond that a sign for Christchurch Farm,  "Private Road, Access Only". Although not signposted as such, the Hereward Way continued through the farm, however this was as far as I planned to go on this path, having arranged to meet my cousin for a rest day.

A day in Ely: Greater Ridgeway Day 27

A danger of long distance walks is that you are always walking, arriving too late and leaving too early to visit any places unique to a location. So I was not too upset by my unplanned day in Ely, famous for its cathedral. 

As with many medieval cathedrals its nave soars high up to the heavens. Stone carving is detailed, and delicate ribs interlace around an octagon in the roof at the centre of the building. As is common with today's smaller congregations, the functioning alter seems to have been moved into the nave from the chancel. In the Lady chapel, the Virgin Mary has quite a modern look, raising her hands in exhortation, not the meek and loving look normally associated with her images. In the gallery of the cathedral's nave is a Stained Glass museum. I particularly liked those associated with the Pre-Raphaelites and some of the modern works.

Nave of Ely Cathedral.

Octagon in ceiling of Ely cathedral.

The Virgin Mary behind the altar of the Lady Chapel.

Another site I visited was the house where Oliver Cromwell once lived. Its rooms briefly describe his life from a modest start through his success in the Civil War, to his period as Lord Protector, essentially the ruler of the country. Background information is provided on the times he lived in and the purpose of rooms in the house.

Ely has a lot of small shops, tea rooms and cake and coffee establishments. Consequently, I ate a lot of cake. My hair was getting increasingly unruly, especially in yesterday's wind, making me look like a mad professor. So I had a trim. The barber required me to wear a face mask. Some places insist on you wearing one, in others it is your choice. Despite the many cases with the current "Omicron" variant, the number of hospitalisations and deaths are down on earlier waves so I am hoping a return to "normal" is not far off...

Brandon to Ely: Greater Ridgeway Day 26

A big change today, I walked through the flat Fens.

Passing people's horses and a friendly ram I left Brandon and Breckland to enter the Fens. A very flat area, once marsh, most has been drained to become fertile farmland. Ploughed fields were often black with peat, very different from Breckland's sandy soil. The marshland has been preserved (or recreated) in Lakenheath Fen, around which I walked for several kilometres on a raised embankment. Bleached reeds spread out to my left, waving on the wind, their seed heads catching the low winter sun when it smiled through the clouds. On my right, geese floated on the Little Ouse. My embankment and another on the far side contained the river and the strip of grass or reeds beside it. Its water level was a little higher than that in the marsh to my left. Lakenheath Fen is managed by the RSPB (Royal Society for Protection of Birds) to protect birds and wildlife. In addition to Canada Geese and a few swans I disturbed a deer, my second of the morning. Its camouflage in shades of brown was so good that if it had stayed still I would not have noticed it. As I left the Fen I saw another animal, too small for a deer but too large for a hare, with short ears and back legs slightly longer than its front ones. Further research indicates it was a muntjac, a type of deer not native to Britain. 

Reeds at Lakenheath Fen

Embankment beside Little Ouse that I walked along at Lakenheath Fen.

Contrary to the forecast the wind was strong today, creating ripples with white peaks on the river. I found myself leaning into it, its gusts off-balancing me slightly. Being a headwind more effort was needed to cover the miles. I left the area of marsh and its reeds by a pumping station. A vertical, centrifugal pump lifted water from a drainage ditch into the river. Nearby was a ruined house. Maybe once the pumping station was manned, when pumps were less reliable, and this was where the pump person lived. Later, at the village of Prickwillow I stopped by the Drainage museum, sadly closed, but a sign said that to keep the neighbouring farmland dry, water had to be lifted 4.6 metres from the drainage ditch to the nearby river, enclosed by high embankments. Systematic drainage of the fens began in the 17th century by the Dutch, but it was not until the use of steam pumps in the 19th century that land was reliably kept clear of water. Although highly fertile the level of the fields was falling according to the sign, I noticed many roads are at a higher level than the surrounding farmland. I walked beside huge fields for much if the day, freshly ploughed or green with some kind of grain. A field of sheep contrasted with the largely arable farming. 

Drainage ditch stretching across the flatness of the Fens.

Overhead, fighter jets howled, their black silhouettes strangely separated from their sound. RAF Lakenheath is nearby, maybe they were newly arrived US Airforce F-35s. The most unpleasant part of the day was a stretch by a busy road. Many large lorries thundered by, I moved onto the uneven verge to avoid them and their strong slipstream. On a quieter section the first Hereward Way signs appeared, maybe a sign I had entered Cambridgeshire. Although tired I found the final part of my walk was especially beautiful as the low sun caught the seed heads of the reeds lining a drainage ditch beside me. Lines of electric cables, hung from pylons, extended far into the distance. Ely cathedral slowly grew larger on the skyline as I approached. 

Today's walk of some 36 kilometres was rather longer than planned or desirable for my knee, which definitely did not want to get into action this morning. The place I had intended to stay on the way to Ely was not accepting bookings and a back up plan to shuttle from Shippea Hill station failed as there were no trains (and no hill)!! So after a long day walking to Ely I decided to recover by having a day's sightseeing tomorrow to recover.

Kettishall Heath to Brandon: Greater Ridgeway Day 25

A sunny walk through sandy woodland for almost all the day.

Birch trees in Thetford forest.

I was disappointed this morning. A wind speed of over 40 miles per hour was still being forecast but the branches of the trees were barely moving. If I had known the weather was going to be this mild I would have camped out in Thetford forest last night instead of diverting into town. However the Travelodge was clean, functional and reasonably priced and I enjoyed breakfast at the Costa Coffee so I cannot complain too much.

Last night I arranged a taxi to pick me up and it duly arrived and took me to where I had left the Peddars Way last night. My driver knew where it was as the Covid lockdown had given him time to explore the local walks, there being no business. I began by walking on a boardwalk as it wound over an area of tall, dry reeds then crossed a small river. Then it was by a piggery, with lots of pink "porkers" out enjoying the sun, snuffling around. A variety of pig houses were spread over a large area for the piggies to shelter in. After that it was forest for the rest of the day, sometimes on wide rutted tracks, sometimes beside a busy road, occasionally on a path. Birch trees lined the tracks, their trunks highlighted by the low sun, behind them were conifers. Beech trees predominated in parts, their brown leaves and nuts covering the ground. 

A "rest area" beside the busy A11, gave me the opportunity to buy a cup of tea and a bap. Shortly after I left Peddars Way and began a section of Hereward Way. By walking for a few days west on this route I will reach the area where two of my cousins lived. I was looking forward to meeting up with them. The Hereward Way is named after Hereward the Wake, who fought Norman conquerors in the 11th century in the area around the city of Ely, which I will shortly walk to. Surprisingly I found no signs or waymarks indicating I was on the Hereward Way, although other paths such as the Via Beata and St Edmunds Way were marked. Sometimes it seems that people prefer to create new routes rather than maintain and improve existing ones.

When the route followed a busy road I kept to the uneven ground beside it among birch trees. Although there was no path, many of the trees had initials carved in them, sometimes within heart symbols, and occasional dates between 1961 and 1971. The carvings had expanded with the tree trunks over the last 60 years. I imagined couples coming here long ago to enjoy some intimacy that might not be possible in their parents homes and carving signs of their love on the trees. After much more woodland I reached  where St Helen's church once stood, only some mounds and an information board recorded its presence. Beside it was a holy well, now a spring at the bottom of old flint workings. Although the soil of Breckland is sandy, the sand is a superficial deposit covering the chalk rock. Wind blown material that collected in front of the ice sheet during one of the Ice Ages. They did not have to dig very deep to reach layers of flint in the chalk rock, flint once used to generate sparks for rifles. The sandy soil is not ideal for agriculture hence the large area of forestry through which I have been walking. Not long after there was a church still standing although no longer used for regular services. The little All Saints church at Santon, with its curious octagon tower, is maintained by a trust, and was a welcome place to rest and contemplate. Nearby was an old moat, no longer filled with water. No-one knows what it was for. After passing the entrance to the forestry office (by another church and a memorial to soldiers who have died) I took a path through woods with the low afternoon sun in my eyes.

Track approaching Brandon.

Finally a track took me around the back of new housing, by some horses backlit by the sun, to the centre of Brandon. After deliberating between the angel cake and the citrus cake I chose the later to have with a latte at a coffee shop while waiting for my accommodation to open. Now thinking of my supper!