Day hike escape to Winchester

Bracing winds, black skies and acres of oozing mud is the unappetising picture which springs to mind whenever I think about winter walks in the UK.  Up until this year, I’ve always been a fair-weather hiker but a desperate desire to escape the concrete metropolis combined with a rapidly expanding post-Christmas girth drove me to desperate measures. Layered up to the nines, I braced myself for the icy blasts of rural Hampshire.

St Catherine's Hill

St Catherine’s Hill

Arriving into Winchester in a blaze of wintery sunshine, the Tudor turrets of Wolf Hall rise up above us. The Hospital of St Cross, the Great Hall and the magnificent Winchester Cathedral are all instantly recognisable from the series.  (Quick to jump on the historical drama bandwagon, Tudor Trails and Wolf Hall guide maps are now available for visitors.)  As a former medieval seat of government and the home to King Arthur’s Round Table, history seeps from every street cobble and darkened alley. From the house where Jane Austen spent the last days of her life to the Bishop of Winchester’s residence, just a few doors down, you never quite know who will pop up next.

Bishop of Winchester home and office

Winchester

statue of King Arthur

Winchester

But with a ten-mile hike ahead of us, there’s no time to dilly-dally around the cultural sites.  Leaving the roar of the M3 behind us, we enter the open fields and rolling hills of  the South Downs where Eastbourne and the Isle of Wight can be seen glinting on the distant horizon.  Following the well-trodden 99 kilmometre route from Winchester to Eastbourne, wandering sheep gaze bemusedly at these alien winter invaders.  while normally packed in summertime, today we enjoy the solitude of wide open spaces without another soul to be seen.

South Downs Way

South Downs

The reason for this solitude soon becomes clear as we slowly sink into the mud.  Bearing the consistency of claggy clay, our boots slither and squelch as we submerge deeper into the earth. Clenching every muscle to avoid descending into a mud bath, the walk takes on a new and gruelling dimension.  As one who normally minces around mud at a timorous pace, I have no choice other than to charge right through to keep up with the group.  An anguished yelp and squelch behind me signals the first casualty. It seems that even the most expensive walking boots are no match for Britain’s bogs.

Figures walking through the Winchester countryside

Winchester walk

We stop for a lunch break just past Chilcomb and Telegraph Hill.  With biting winds and sodden ground, I opt to eat my sangers standing up, devouring each mouthful in a rush to get my gloves back on. After fifteen minutes, we’re all anxious to back on the road again.   As we head back down through Fawley and Morestead Down, our final stop is to St Catherine’s Hill.  Winding our way up the steps to the well-preserved ramparts, we take in the breath-taking views across the Itchen River valley. Conmposed of nine hectares, the interior hosts the site of the 13th century chapel of St Catherine and the hill’s famous miz-maze.

St Catherine's Hill

St Catherine’s Hill

With visions of Hampton Court Palace in our minds, our first sighting of the 17th century miz-maze is a little underwhelming to say the least. Composed of a shallow trench, turf mazes differ from traditional mazes by offering only one path which twists and turns but always leads to the centre of the design. Referred to as labyrinths, there are only eight surviving turf mazes in the country and their purpose remains shrouded in mystery.  Some speculate that penitents were forced to parade around on their hands and knees but no records exist to confirm these claims.

Winchester miz-maze

Winchester miz-maze

After the excitement of the miz-maze, we make our descent back into Winchester and as the tantalising prospect of a pint and a pie looms, the pace of the group picks up noticeably.  With an array of enticing eateries including the Michelin-rated Black Rat and Rick Stein’s first venture outside Cornwall, we’re spoilt for choice but as we discover to our peril, booking ahead is essential.   We finally end up in the Anchor and Hope for comforting pub grub which arrives piping hot in record time.

boot hanging outside a shop

Winchester hike

Jumping back on the train to London bedraggled and mud-spattered but with rosy cheeks and a post-pub glow, we stretch out our aching limbs and reflect on an exhilirating day’s hike.  The fact we’ve overcome mud, bracing winds and freezing temperatures brings an additional smug-factor to the day and I can’t wait to tell my colleagues back at the office.  Tough Mudder next year? Bring it on.

Are you a winter hiker?  Share your experiences here.

 

 

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