An old walk, a new footpath, an almshouse and a cathedral

10 March 2015

When I was training for the first Moonwalk my route was always the same except I added a mile each week. Usually I prefer a circular route but the need to add that mile made it impractical so I’d walk in the general direction of Winchester, add half a mile then turn round and walk back. For months and months I went out in all weathers and the only real variation, except when I got lost, was the last half mile of each walk. Oh, how I looked forward to that half mile of new ground and the excitement of finding something different to look at.

Back then I didn’t know about the Itchen Navigation so, apart from Riverside Park, my walks were all on roads, albeit fairly rural ones mostly. When I got to the really long walks, twenty miles plus, I discovered Five Bridges Road and, for the last month of my training, I walked along it and came to love it. My post Viaduct plan was to walk it again and check out a footpath I’d seen but never dared risk taking in case it messed up my mileage. From the map I had an idea it would take me back to the centre of Winchester but this was by no means certain.

Now I knew it was there, the broken viaduct arch crossing the road was obvious and I stopped for a moment to look at it. When I turned and opened the gate to start off down the road,  vivid memories of my old walks came flooding back, sitting on the grass in the sun eating chocolate and sipping water, talking to Commando on the phone.  It was spring and every week there seemed to be something different to see, flowers, newborn lambs in the fields, farmers repairing fences. Back then I marked my progress by how many bridges I’d crossed. Now each bridge was like an old friend and I smiled when I saw the stone Winchester marker, remembering how excited I’d been the first time I saw it and knew I’d actually made it that far.

looking back I could see the viaduct across the fields but the sun was in the wrong place for decent photos. That was when I realised I should have walked onto the link road and taken some pictures of it from there. Oh well, one more reason for coming back I guess. There were sheep in the fields but it’s too early for any new born lambs to be gamboling just yet. My favourite spot is about half way along the half mile of road where the Itchen wanders under and the view looks over St Cross Mill. The river is diverted to run through the mill creating a pretty little island filled with trees.

At first glance the footpath didn’t look promising. It lead past an untidy farm with lorrys and industrial looking buildings. Still there were plenty of different walk badges on the gate post so I was bound to end up somewhere eventually. At the second gate I stopped for a moment to look over at the mill buildings half hidden in the trees. A runner came up behind me and I held the gate open for her.

“Thanks,” she smiled, “but I was almost looking forward to stopping to open the gate.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I laughed.
“Never mind, I’ve stopped now to talk to you so it’s all good. Are you going to visit St Cross?”
“Not really, I’m hoping I can get back to the centre of Winchester this way but I’m a bit lost to be honest so I’m just going to see where I end up.”
“If you go past the hospital and keep going through the gate then take the gravel path it will take you back to the centre,” she said.
“Thank you, I’ll do that. Have a good run.”
“Just remember, take the gravel path,” she said with a grin as she started running again.

There was a small stream, or maybe a water filled ditch, running beside the path and, behind the trees to the east, I could see St Catherine’s Hill. In the main the path was dry but, in one place, there was a marshy puddle almost big enough to be called a pond  with what looked like water iris growing in it. Further on there were pieces of brickwork sticking out of the grass and I wondered what they were.

Then I came to another gate beyond which I could see St Cross Hospital. Here the ditch stream ran through a hatch and meandered towards the hospital. To the east I could see the section of mill diverted Itchen rambling through the trees, racing to meet up with the rest of the river. Through the gate there were white cows grazing. As there didn’t appear to be a fence of any kind this was a bit of a worry, especially when I saw the sign explaining how to behave around herds of cows. Cautiously I went through the gate.

On the other side an avenue of trees was the only thing between me and the cows and I began to wonder how fast I could climb if they charged. One was already on my side of the ditch stream. Looking around for escape routes I noticed a sluice on the diverted river, maybe I could wade across if I had to. With my eyes firmly on the cows I kept walking through the trees. Alarmingly, another cow seemed to be crossing the ditch stream. So far they all had their backs to me and I hurried along hoping they wouldn’t turn round and see me.

There was a gate at the end of the avenue and I couldn’t get to it fast enough. For a moment I fumbled with the catch, expecting a cow or two to appear behind me at any moment. In fact I was sure I could hear them moving towards me. Once I was through I leant back against the fence and let out a huge sigh of relief. The cows were still in the same place calmly eating grass. They probably didn’t even know I was there.

Now I gave myself time to look at the hospital. On my Moonwalk walks I’d seen it from the road but this was the closest I’d ever been to it.  The Hospital of St Cross and Almshouse of Noble Poverty was founded between 1133 and 1136 by Henry de Blois, Bishop of Winchester to provide accommodation for the poor of the area who would otherwise have been homeless. The oldest charitable institution in the UK it is also the largest medieval almshouse in Britain. The part of the building I was looking at was the church. The walls are over  a metre thick.

The hospital hides behind the long flint and brick walls, two medieval halls, a kitchen, a tudor cloister and extensive gardens. It still provides private accommodation for around twenty five elderly men, known as The Brothers, who belong to either the Foundation of the Hospital of St Cross or the Order of Noble Poverty. It also provides the Wayfarer’s Dole, a small horn cup of ale and a piece of bread, to anyone who asks at the Porters Gate. I wish I’d known about that when I was on those long walks, I might have knocked. Most of the buildings and grounds are open to the public but, as ever, I didn’t have time for a visit.

There was a handy bench beside the wall so I sat in the sunshine, drank my chocolate milk and ate my peanut snack bar looking out over the distant view of St Catherine’s Hill. I might have stayed a little longer but an elderly couple with sticks were walking towards the bench and I thought their need was greater than mine. Following the long flint wall I came to the corner where the path divided. Thinking back to the runner’s advice I kept going straight ahead, following the river.

I did stop to peek across a small stream at some steps leading to what looked like a tiny garden. As far as I can tell this is part of St Faith’s Church, demolished in 1507. The church may be gone but the graveyard remains so maybe the garden is part of it. There was a sluice and a pretty little bridge to cross before I found the gravel path.

Now I was walking along the bank of the Itchen and St Catherine’s Hill, which seemed to have been coming and going from view all day, was there in front of me again. It seemed so close I felt as if I was standing at the bottom not a good quarter mile across the water meadows. On a small grassy island a swan sat looking up at the hill and I wondered if this might be a nest site. The sound of rushing water drew me onwards and, quite shortly, I came to a a pretty little flint cottage right on the riverbank. The tumbling water sounds were coming from a sluice beside it where the crystal clear water of the Itchen fell in a sparkling curtain. From the looks of it this was once a mill, although I haven’t been able to find out anything about it.

This was Garnier Road, the same road where I’d stood looking over Tun Bridge deciding whether to risk the Navigation path a few hours before. My walk had almost taken me full circle, just a quarter mile from that point. With a quick look back at the mystery mill house I set off again, following the river beside some playing fields. Ahead I could see the buildings of Winchester College through the trees and, before I knew it, I was back on College walk.

My footpath adventure had ended and I made for the centre of Winchester. There were still a couple of things I wanted to see before I made my way to the train station. The first was just around the corner. Kingsgate is one of two surviving medieval gates to the city, built on the site of one of the Roman gates. This incarnation dates from the fourteenth century and, on the other side, is another gate.  A century younger, Priors Gate is the main entrance to the Close.

Right inside is Cheyney Court and the Porters Lodge. Built at around the same time as the gate, these flint buildings are topped with faded ancient timber and butter coloured plaster. If there is a prettier medieval house I have yet to see it. Forming a U shaped close, the fourteenth century Pilgrims Hall stands against Cheyney Court and was once the priory guest house.

Across the courtyard I walked through the arched walkway of Curle’s Passage, stopping rather longer than I’d have liked to get a photo without any sightseers or tour guides in it. Then it was on to the most famous landmark in Winchester. On the very last Moonwalk training walk ever my halfway point was Winchester Cathedral. Despite living in Hampshire all my life I’d never seen it in the flesh. As I came out of Minster Lane, not entirely sure where I was, and saw it in front of me I had such a feeling of elation to have finally made it after months of walking towards this spot I almost burst into tears.

There was no rush of elation on Tuesday and no need to walk the twelve plus miles home either. Of course I stopped to take a few more photos before setting off towards the train station. There was a smile as I passed the Eclipse Pub where a kind man had taken my photo on that emotional last walk and a quick coffee stop at Costa but you probably guessed that already. Winchester is a city with a lot to offer and I will undoubtedly be back again. Maybe next time I’ll walk the old Winchester walls, I’m sure they have a few tales to tell.