Wiltshire reboot

Leaving home at 5.30 to catch the first train heightens the adventure.  Sharing the road with a few buses, foxes and the odd car, you make fast progress through a series of green traffic lights and empty junctions.  Already at 6am, a dozen or more commuters were at Surbiton on their way to the daily grind.  My daily grind would involve the rolling hills of Wiltshire, as I headed south from Andover and west to Salisbury and then towards Gillingham.

My first, memorable,  wild camping trip was to Wiltshire, in January.  I abandoned it after one day and night, principally due to very icy roads and short daylight hours.  It's time to return.

Originally planned for the end of September, but postponed by workmen causing a gas leak in our house, it had to be delayed to early October.  The original plan to continue where I left off at Marlborough isn't possible because of train strikes, so I'm doing it in the reverse direction,  starting at Andover again, as I did on that freezing January day when temperatures rarely got above freezing all day.

Quickly out of Andover into the lanes, threaded between the vast skies and the vast fields, with an occasional patch of woodland for variety.  It was lovely cycling with almost no traffic, through pretty villages.  Every hill had a wonderful view.  I arrived at Salisbury just in time for elevenses, after just over thirty miles.

Monxton

Nether Wallop

View

Autumn colours

Old Sarum Castle, outer fortifications 

Inner fortifications 

The afternoon was more straightforward. I joined the valley of the river Chalke, and followed a gradually rising road for maybe 12 miles, stopping at a community cafe in one of the villages, Broad Chalke, for lunch. At the head of the valley neay Shaftesbury, the landscape became decidedly lumpy - the Blackfown Hills? - and a tea stop was necessary to refuel. It was warmer but not so sunny, so there are fewer pictures.

There seem to be plenty of large estates and manor houses round here, so there is a bit of money around.  After tea and a few more hills, I was in Blackmore Vale, flatter farming country.   I started looking for a camping spot, but all the fields seemed to be very well secured.  Eventually I found a dead end road, just into Dorset near Gillingham, with several good options.  It was too early to camp (needs to be nearly dark for wild camping), so I went to Gillingham in search of refreshment, in a brief and heavy rain shower.

A successful first day.