England’s grey and pleasant land

We stayed the night in Shaftesbury, one of the highest and windiest towns in England, and woke to this view over the Blackmore Vale. It’s fabulous in 3D, even in the drizzle. And it's good to see a few hedges left, despite the golf course.

I wasn’t expecting an eclectic Sunday market in Shaftesbury High Street selling wallets made of Portuguese cork, affordable sheepskin slippers and pots of snowdrops alongside the more predictable cakes, knife sharpeners and jam, and at least some of the stallholders, hanging on to their gazebos already weighted down by damp sandbags, weren’t expecting the wind. They’ll know better next time.

We called in on last night’s hosts on the way home to help them with their delicious over-catering problem, then our route took us past Stonehenge. I knew that the days of ambling across the fields to the stones were over, but I hadn’t before seen the detour that forces visitors into a large car park and visitor centre, from which they have to be transported to the site in a ‘train’. I don’t like it but what to do? You can’t have ‘wild and remote’ and ‘hugely visited’.