Day out:Winchester To the south of the town, along the Itchen valley, stretches a glorious chain of braided river channels and leafy water meadows. Here the poet Keats took his daily constitutional, and I made a similar pilgrimage to enjoy the peaceful riverside stroll. A short detour then led me across chalky heights to the top of St Catherine's Hill[photo], from which the entire valley was visible [photo]. Apart from the motorway, that is. Try not to mention the motorway...
Twyford Down Twyford Down is, or rather was, a glorious expanse of unspoilt downland to the southeast of Winchester town centre. A geographical accident then resulted in it becoming the venue for the fiercest environmental protest of recent years. The result of the ensuing battle was Lorries 1 Landscape 0, which is why a six lane motorway now scythes through the heart of this ancient chalkland [photo].
The A33 Winchester bypass used to crawl along the Itchen Valley between St Catherine's Hill and Winchester's water meadows. It was a notorious bottleneck, adding up to an hour to millions of journeys annually, and by the 1990s had become the only remaining hiatus in the M3 to Southampton. Transport chiefs decreed that the gap had to be filled, and looked around for an alternative route. The valley was wholly unsuitable for a wider road, and there was insufficient cash for a tunnel, so the least worst option appeared to be to drive a deep cutting right through Twyford Down. Local people and environmentalprotestors disagreed. They didn't want to see an ancient hilltop destroyed for the benefit of through traffic, and a roadprotestcamp was established on the ridge to try to hinder construction. Many pitched battles were fought between protestors and contractors, but the road lobby eventually won through and the new chunk of motorway opened to traffic in 1994. Ironically, once the exorbitant cost of the policing effort was added in, it turned out that a tunnel would have been cheaper to build after all.
Visit the northwestern flank of Twyford Down today and the new road is barely visible. From the footpath along the narrow chalky valley below, for example, the land still appears to rise up to the same windswept ridge as before. But it's all an illusion, as the relentless background noise of not-so-distant traffic bears witness. Clamber up the slope and the land suddenly drops away behind a wire fence to reveal a stark white gash, through which thunder cars and lorries and holiday-bound coaches. They pass through this unseen upland in under a minute, a tedious traffic jam avoided but an ancient landscape destroyed.
Around nearby St Catherine's Hill, however, the view is much improved. The A33 at the bottom of the hill has been covered over and landscaped to create a long thin grassy meadow, returning to public use a far greater area of chalky downland than the two hectares which were lost. As environmental mitigation goes it's unexpectedly impressive, and has helped to recreate a continuous green heartland along the Itchen valley. Meanwhile wildlife continues to make the best use of what remains up on the Down. Sheep graze the bracken slopes a few feet from the hard shoulder [photo], butterflies flit undisturbed across the heath and green woodpeckers swoop undisturbed from tree to tree. This remains an absolutely glorious spot for a walk... but only if you're deaf.
St Cross At the southern end of Keats' daily walk, in meadows opposite St Catherine's Hill, stands Britain's oldest charitable institution. It's the hospital of St Cross, and it's been offering hospitality to travellers and the poor for more than 850 years. St Cross was established by Henry de Blois, a grandson of William the Conqueror, to provide shelter and sustenance for 13 frail and penniless men. Twenty-five Brethren still live in the high-chimneyed almshouses on site [photo], and there are many more deserving cases on the waiting list (alas many won't survive the wait). For a small fee visitors are permitted to queue-jump and look around inside, including access to the Brethren's Hall (a medieval dining room) and the walled Master's Garden (still emerging from wintry sleep). One quaint tradition is that travellers are given a free cup of aleand a morsel of bread upon request at the Porter's Lodge (but only if you ask outright, otherwise you don't get). Even though this was never a religious community, there's still a cathedral-shaped Norman church in one corner of the site [photo]. It's much too big for the inmates so it doubles up as the parish church, and the interior's mighty impressive for such a small scale place of worship. The transepts may be a bit of a mess at the moment because there's some urgent re-wiring going on, but that's all part of a campaign to get the place spick and span before the arrival of the hospital's new Master on St George's Day. He's in for a treat - this is a delightful and very peaceful place to retire.
Day out:Winchester Long before London was the nation's capital, the seat of kings lay in deepest Hampshire. Winchester was established as the capital of Wessex about 1200 years ago, surrendering its superiority to London only following the Norman Conquest. Its most famous ruler was the legendary King Alfred, the only English monarch ever to be officially deemed 'Great'. His statue now stands at the foot of the High Street [photo], conveniently located for the tourist information office, and looking down over a row of Park and Ride bus stops. Winchester's a bit like that, marvellously old but with a twist of new, and it made for a splendid spring day out.
» Visit Winchester
Winchester Cathedral Where else to start but the cathedral? [photo] It's the longest Gothic cathedral in Europe, 170 metres in length, and a mighty imposing sight visible across the city [photo]. There used to be an Old Minster nextdoor, dating all the way back to 648AD, but that's now visible only in outline on the grass. Five quid will get you inside its replacement, and then you can gawp in wonder at the scale and spectacle of medieval architecture. The nave is most impressive [photo]>, with a high vaulted ceiling above tall Norman arches, and you may either choose to sit here in quite contemplation or whip your camera out and attempt to take arty shots [photo]. Jane Austen is buried beneath a plaque in the northern aisle, and the house in which she spent her last days is only a few yards round the corner in College Street [photo]. Beyond the low altar is the medieval quire [photo], packed with ornate carvings and (if you pick your time right) angelic voices in cassocks. Look up on top of the screens in front of the high altar and you'll see six painted mortuary chests containing the relics of several Saxon and Danish kings. Canute's up there, and Ethelwulf, and the odd important bishop too. Alas there's no trace of the most famous bishop of all, 9th century St Swithun. His shrine has been plundered, shifted and destroyed over the years, but you can still see the tiny arch through which pilgrims used to crawl to pay their respects [photo]. The glazed floor tiles here are some of the oldest surviving in the country, and it's a joy to step across their delicately crafted heraldic and geometric patterns [photo][photo]. Take the stairs in the south transept and you can climb up to view the Winchester Bible, an exquisite document inked by generations of monks with perfect handwriting, and illustrated by vivid gold-leaf drawings. As the building's creators once hoped, this space is still heavenly.
• Great Hall: Only the 13th century Great Hall survived Cromwell's demolition of Winchester Castle. The beam-roofed building's impressive enough, but completely upstaged by the Round Table hanging on the west wall [photo]. It's not the genuine Round Table of legend, alas, just an 18-foot oak reconstruction ordered by one of the Plantagenet King Edwards. And that's not Arthur in the centre, that's King Henry VIII who had the table repainted to impress a visiting European monarch.
• City Mill: Recently restored by the National Trust, this 18th century watermill squats over the River Itchen at the foot of the High Street [photo]. There are some beams and wheels and ropes to gawp at, and maybe some otters too if you time your visit right. The best bit, almost but not quite worth the £3.50 entrance fee, is the opportunity to stand in a confined space downstairs and watch the river thundering throughthe millrace.
• Buttercross: A many-pinnacled monument halfway down the High Street, once the centrepiece of medieval market trading, and now just somewhere to sit and nibble something unhealthy from one of the two neighbouring pasty shops [photo].
• St Giles' Hill: The perfect city viewpoint[photo], just a short climb beyond the Itchen, whose grassy slopes are promoted as the best place in town to watch the sunset.
• City Museum: This town has 2000 years of history, so there's a lot to cram in. Top floor Roman (with some impressively large chunks of tiled mosaic), middle floor Alfred's kingdom (and a canter through the subsequent millennium), and on the ground floor Winchester's more recent tourist and commercial heritage (including an evocative recreation of a 1960s corner shop).
• Westgate: Another museum, this time accessed by climbing up to rooms above the old city gate. It's not a thriller (ooh look, a complete set of Winchester's historic weights and measures), but the view from the roof almost makes up for it [photo].
• Military Museums: If you're the type who loves pottering around museums depicting army life, Winchester has a cluster of six. There's one devoted to the Gurkhas, another to the horseback Hussars, another for the Royal Greenjackets, etc. They're all housed in the former Peninsula Barracks, built on the site of Winchester Castle. Me, I gave them a miss and enjoyed the central formal gardens instead [photo].
Visit the northwestern flank of Twyford Down today and the new road is barely visible. From the footpath along the narrow chalky valley below, for example, the land still appears to rise up to the same windswept ridge as before. But it's all an illusion, as the relentless background noise of not-so-distant traffic bears witness. Clamber up the slope and the land suddenly drops away behind a wire fence to reveal a stark white gash, through which thunder cars and lorries and holiday-bound coaches. They pass through this unseen upland in under a minute, a tedious traffic jam avoided but an ancient landscape destroyed.
At the southern end of Keats' daily walk, in meadows opposite St Catherine's Hill, stands Britain's oldest charitable institution. It's the hospital of St Cross, and it's been offering hospitality to travellers and the poor for more than 850 years. St Cross was established by Henry de Blois, a grandson of William the Conqueror, to provide shelter and sustenance for 13 frail and penniless men. Twenty-five Brethren still live in the high-chimneyed almshouses on site [photo], and there are many more deserving cases on the waiting list (alas many won't survive the wait). For a small fee visitors are permitted to queue-jump and look around inside, including access to the Brethren's Hall (a medieval dining room) and the walled Master's Garden (still emerging from wintry sleep). One quaint tradition is that travellers are given a free cup of ale and a morsel of bread upon request at the Porter's Lodge (but only if you ask outright, otherwise you don't get). Even though this was never a religious community, there's still a cathedral-shaped Norman church in one corner of the site [photo]. It's much too big for the inmates so it doubles up as the parish church, and the interior's mighty impressive for such a small scale place of worship. The transepts may be a bit of a mess at the moment because there's some urgent re-wiring going on, but that's all part of a campaign to get the place spick and span before the arrival of the hospital's new Master on St George's Day. He's in for a treat - this is a delightful and very peaceful place to retire.
Where else to start but the cathedral? [photo] It's the longest Gothic cathedral in Europe, 170 metres in length, and a mighty imposing sight visible across the city [photo]. There used to be an Old Minster nextdoor, dating all the way back to 648AD, but that's now visible only in outline on the grass. Five quid will get you inside its replacement, and then you can gawp in wonder at the scale and spectacle of medieval architecture. The nave is most impressive [photo]>, with a high vaulted ceiling above tall Norman arches, and you may either choose to sit here in quite contemplation or whip your camera out and attempt to take arty shots [photo]. Jane Austen is buried beneath a plaque in the northern aisle, and the house in which she spent her last days is only a few yards round the corner in College Street [photo]. Beyond the low altar is the medieval quire [photo], packed with ornate carvings and (if you pick your time right) angelic voices in cassocks. Look up on top of the screens in front of the high altar and you'll see six painted mortuary chests containing the relics of several Saxon and Danish kings. Canute's up there, and Ethelwulf, and the odd important bishop too. Alas there's no trace of the most famous bishop of all, 9th century St Swithun. His shrine has been plundered, shifted and destroyed over the years, but you can still see the tiny arch through which pilgrims used to crawl to pay their respects [photo]. The glazed floor tiles here are some of the oldest surviving in the country, and it's a joy to step across their delicately crafted heraldic and geometric patterns [photo] [photo]. Take the stairs in the south transept and you can climb up to view the Winchester Bible, an exquisite document inked by generations of monks with perfect handwriting, and illustrated by vivid gold-leaf drawings. As the building's creators once hoped, this space is still heavenly.
• Great Hall: Only the 13th century Great Hall survived Cromwell's demolition of Winchester Castle. The beam-roofed building's impressive enough, but completely upstaged by the Round Table hanging on the west wall [photo]. It's not the genuine Round Table of legend, alas, just an 18-foot oak reconstruction ordered by one of the Plantagenet King Edwards. And that's not Arthur in the centre, that's King Henry VIII who had the table repainted to impress a visiting European monarch.
