The March of Time

Charlie ConnellyHello there, historical walking person. Most likely you've arrived here for two reasons. One, you're a church organist looking for the chords to Jerusalem, or two, you've been persuaded and cajoled by my book And Did Those Feet: Walking Through 2000 Years of British and Irish History to find out more about the routes I took.

Alas I can't help much with the former, unless you want the ukulele chords, but if it's the latter then, goshdarn and dagnabbit, you're in the right place.

You'll find details of all the routes I took and most of the places I stayed (the ones I can remember), as well as the OS maps you'll need to make the same journeys. If they're not here by the time you read this, then fear not, they're imminent.

If you're not here because of the book and you're not a church organist, you might well be interested in buying it to see what the fuss is all about. You can do that here. It's a great read, you're all in it, and I suffered selflessly so you don't have to. But you can, and it's something this site hopes to facilitate.

Pip pip for now.

Charlie

Wednesday 28 January 2009

Harold II from Stamford Bridge to the Battle of Hastings, 1066


Stamford Bridge - York - Doncaster - Lincoln - Peterborough - Waltham Abbey - London - Tunbridge Wells - Battle

OS Landranger maps: 105, 111, 121, 130, 142, 153, 166, 176, 177, 188, 199.

This was the longest of all the walks, and in many ways my favourite despite seeing a ghost and neraly being murdered by a psychotic Peterborough driving instructor.

I based myself in York for a few days. I can't remember the place where I stayed but York has loads of good places to stay. From there it was to Tadcaster and a pub whose name I've forgotten, then the Travelodge Pontefract Ferrybridge before moving on to Doncaster and the Metro Inn.

I stayed in a pub in Gainsborough whose name I've forgotten, then a B&B in Lincoln whose name I also can't remember. What I do remember about Lincoln is that the dastardly local tourist board tried to claim I'd booked an entirely separate hotel when I hadn't and charged me accordingly. They wouldn't accept that their website was highly dodgy and it took several stiff letters to sort the situation out. Anyway, from there it was on to Sleaford, where, after a terrifying walk in the dark along the A15 I was overjoyed to see the Sleaford Travelodge. Next it was Bourne, where I hobbled around for ages looking for a place to stay until coming up trumps with the Angel Hotel - one of the most luxurious places where I rested my head on the whole set of journeys.

I recovered from my attempted assassination at the White Hart in Ufford, a fabulous and friendly boozer, cracking restaurant and lovely place to stay. Needing a rest by this point I holed up at the Travel Inn Peterborough North before heading on to Huntingdon and the very comfortable George Inn. In Sandy I secured what was apparently the last bed in town, at the King's Arms, before moving on to Ware and the Roebuck Hotel, whose heating had broken down but was otherwise very comfy.

I flew through Waltham Abbey and went home and stayed with my mate Pete in south-east London the following night. The night after that I stayed in Sevenoaks with my oldest friend Paul and his lovely wife Emma, and then can't actually remember where I stayed in Tunbridge Wells. The Greyhound in Wadhurst was a great place to stay, before I ended up at the end of the journey in the Abbey Hotel at Battle, a twanged Norman arrow from the battlefield itself.

By my reckoning that's about 22 days including rest days, and my pedometer read some 330 miles by the end. Again this was easy going in terms of terrain, being largely flat other than the small mountain on which Lincoln appears to stand, but in terms of distance it was a bit of a behemoth. Some lovely countryside though, especially in Kent and Sussex.
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