DUMB AND DUMMER

Wayfarers Walk 4

We continued on from Arlesford in continual rain, alongside the swollen stream.
 

The 13th century mill now looks somewhat precarious straddling the stream.

 

The no fishing notice is still there.

I wonder who Hambone Jr was, and why he's buried beside the river.

The path was often obstructed.  And still it rained.

But the snowdrops brightened our way.

The view of the valley.

The view across the hills.  Still raining. 

And a long muddy trudge up Abbotstone Down.

Finally at the summit.  Not stopped raining yet.

We broke for lunch in a bus shelter which was not yet waterlogged.
 

Then passing a nice house with more snowdrops

and sheltered in the Queen Inn at Dummer until the taxi arrived from the station.

A long walk, made longer by rain.  Did I mention the rain?

GOLF TO GOLF

Wayfarers Walk 3

I seem to be forever writing about weather.  But, as a further indication of how much rain we have had recently, the lovely town of Hambledon, that we passed through on leg 2 of this walk (qv), has just flooded.  

Leg 3 began eventually on Wednesday last, after delayed trains and a long taxi detour to circumvent a fallen tree across the road at Meon.  We were fortunate that the start of the path round Corhampton Golf Course was sheltered from the weather.

 

Only complete fools would be out and walking about today.

On the other side of the hill, the track was cut off by a new river.

This is the main road we had to walk along.

Next into open countryside, leading (disconcertingly) into Betty Mundy's Bottom.

The forest in the Bottom had clearly also suffered from the weather.

 

But we were cheered throughout this walk by the profusion of snowdrops.

 

We found a convenient, dry barn for lunch.

 Another saving grace on this walk was the stunning Hampshire  scenery.

You could see for miles across the rolling hills without any sign of habitation.

If this notice is aimed at birds, surely it should say 'Don't be so stupid - nest in trees!'.

Over the next hill, we entered Hinton Ampnor, with a new river for us to cross.

Another saving grace - a short break for tea and buttered toasted spotted dog cake in the tea-rooms.  This is the church in the Hinton Ampner. gardens

The gardens were full of snowdrops and winter aconites.

But, outside the gardens, the fields were full of water.

This is Cheriton, not only a raging river, but the adjoining road now a parallel river.

Jeff spots the Wayfarers Walk signpost in Cheriton.  Only another two thirds to walk . . .

 

The water flows off saturated fields onto the road, rather than the other way round.

Here is a local land-owner surveying the damage to part of her land.

But, eventually, we squelch across Alresford golf course into Alresford for the night.

An attractive walk - not spoiled by weather.  Despite the season, it is still quite warm.

THE SOLUTION IS THE PROBLEM

There has been much in the news recently about floods in Britain.  Mostly this has arisen because it just won't stop raining! 

There are basically two aquifers in England - the chalk in the south east, and the sandstone that runs from the west up to the north-east, both very porous and usually sufficient to drain the water away after rain.  These aquifers are now however up to 95% saturated.  There is fast becoming nowhere for the water to go.

This is my village green yesterday:

And this is the view of the south as we came back over the South Downs later in the day.

But we haven't had it as bad as some others.  The other reason the floods have been newsworthy is that the Somerset Levels have been flooded since Christmas.  They are having a really tough time, with several villages completely cut off and turned into islands.  This is one view of Somerset that appeared in the media.

And this was a pic that caught my eye of further up the coast, during one of the recent storms.

 

But more is yet to come.  This is the current flood warning map.

 

Maybe the climate is changing a little bit?

But the solution is not so easy.  There have always been water meadows in UK - where rivers are allowed to overflow each year and relieve the pressure on the towns downstream.  We used to live in Pulborough where the Avon overflowed into meadows and rose up to our door steps regularly, but frankly without our having much concern.  But I was quite shocked when a builder applied for planning permission to build houses in the water meadow behind our house.  They were turned down, but I understand there were 66 other such applications last year that gained approval.  Although they contract to build up the river defences to protect the new houses, do they have no idea where all that water is then going to go?

So the solution (pun intended) is complicated.  Many of those living in Somerset have been vociferously complaining that dredging has not been sufficient in the rivers.  But the Environmental Agency claim that dredging has been undertaken.  Then I was struck by The Wetlands Trust and RSPB opposition to dredging as destroying the natural environment in the area.  There is also the problem that the water has to have somewhere to go.  When vast swathes of the country go under water, dredging just makes the water deeper.  There are currently pumps removing something like a million gallons a day from the area, but it is being pumped of course into the river.  But it still keeps raining and, as I have said, the land just can't absorb any more water at the moment.

The problem is sadly going to be with us for a little bit longer.  With more heavy rain predicted for the weekend, here is a map showing this year's rainfall so far.

The white bits are where rainfall has been more or less normal; the blue bits are where it has been higher than usual, up to the black areas where it has been 225% of normal!  I live in the middle of the black bit at the bottom.  Despite the experts' scepticism, I think maybe we ought to just get on and dredge.  It will at least cheer up the poor residents affected by the floods a little (not much, since I fear they will then complain that it is too little too late).  And it will perhaps reduce the water level enough to let the houses dry out before the winter proper.  But I fear Mother Nature has the last word.  The only consolation I suppose is that stranded villagers haven't been forgotten and that, so far, the temperature has been quite mild.  Frost and snow is still to come . . .

NATURALLY LUCKY

So, back home.  We decided to be here when the next round of storms hit, having spent most of Christmas Eve in Devon trying to stem the flow of rain through our windows and mopping up with towels.  The rain seemed to be hitting us horizontally (at 80 mph, according to the local weather report).

But it was a curiously mixed period meteorically speaking. Here is the East Cliff Cafe last weekend - warm enough to sit outside.

But the storms were already brewing.

There then followed two days of violent winds and rain which left our own house in Surrey without power for a day and neighbouring Petersfield without power still today.  There have been horrendous floods around our way and landslips (including on the main rail line) and fallen trees across many roads.  I saw this photograph in a newspaper - I couldn't believe that this is where we parked our car in Guildford to do our last minute Christmas shopping the day before going away.  There is a small river nearby . . .

This was the only damage I saw in Devon after the storm, but I guess the wind was quite strong to do this. 

 

 Then, on Boxing day, the tradtional rush into the sea in glorious sunny weather again.  Here are some of the costumes

Someone was playing safe

Santa was being brave

 

Here they all are on the beach, some more without costume than with.

  

and there they go

 

It was of course all to raise funds for the local lifeboat.  Here's the RNLI mascot.

And this is Su Thomas, the artist who provided the paintings for next year's calendar.

 

And this is the waterfront by the East Cliff Cafe again.  Look at the number of people out enjoying the sun!

But, back home, although we were spared the flooding, we seem to have lost some trees.

 

Now, how many different directions could those trees have fallen?  Yet they didn't fall on the road at the rear, nor even onto our lawn.  And, if you look closely, they missed entirely the arch leading to the rear entrance.  And what of our summer house . . . .