Malvern Hills

We’d nothing booked for the Tuesday night, and Warwick was suggested as a reasonable halfway stop. We’ve used this racecourse site a few times including a few memorable race days, and we bagged a spot right on the finish line by the course fence. Chap in the next van leapt out as I pulled up into our chosen spot, pitch 49 displayed the marker, to say to me “you do realise this isn’t a pitch” he huffed. I asked why and pointed to the number on the pitch marker I’d parked next to. He still didn’t back down and declared I must know better than him then, no idea what his problem was. Me being a pratt magnet again it seems.

As it was parking up to the fence turned out to be an error in our judgement

as the course was watered overnight for some bizarre reason by tractors towing hose reels feeding track wide, noisy spray bars, and the perimeter roadway was patrolled by Le Mans drivers hourly throughout the night. A restless night then followed a visit to the pub, a meal and the truly baffling & frankly shite current series of Killing Eve; during which we both fell asleep. Nice pub though to be fair & enjoyed a few pints of a local IPA, and Mrs H here Estella Galicia.

As we pulled into the site to be our home for the next 4 days, the Waze SatNav app I currently favour proudly announced our arrival in French for no apparent reason ”Vous êtes arrivé à destination”, no idea why. The club site at Malvern Hills is huge with many of the 200 pitches empty midweek, it was an hour after checking in and parking up in 3 different places and roaming around with my compass arguing over which way is West before settling in the holy grail of a spot with the slidy door facing the evening sun, if there is any.

Nothing unusual there really, only time we don’t move space is if there’s only one space left.

Pleasant walk of around 6 miles after lunch in the largely flat fields in the shadow of the imposing Malvern hills, which we’ll likely tackle some of tomorrow. Despite a nice meal, and a few drinks we had a restless night, largely thanks to gale force winds causing turbulence like conditions in the van keeps us awake. Pooch never batted an eyelid all night. Abandoned our plans to walk up Worcester Beacon on Thursday as the strong winds continued, so we headed to Upton on Severn which was a 10 mile circular across some pleasant countryside. After a quick cuppa, change and freshen up once back at the van we retraced our steps to The Hanley Swan, in the village named the same. The area is fixated on Swans it seems, the pub was lovely and almost a cliche; quintessentially positioned next to village green and duck pond in a clearly affluent area. Daisy did some serious attention seeking with her best puppy dog eyes rewarding her with many many treats and much fuss.

Over the next 2 days we clocked up another 26 miles and covered the majority of the Malvern Hills ridge. Friday tackling the Worcester Beacon which is 425 metres above sea level, about 200 short of Kinder Scout & it felt most of the climb was through the town, 99 steps through Rose Garden then the Zig Zag path. Stunning views once up at top to be fair, across to the Cotswolds looking easterly and across Herefordshire & Shropshire to the west, with this chain of hills jutting up on the border of 2 counties.

Chatting to a farmer on the path he educated us that the Malverns are granite & the Cotswolds are limestone & were islands at one point separated by a sea. You can imagine this to be fair, & I like to hear locals tell us about their area with enthusiasm and affection.

We met another couple a little further, he resembling Spike Milligan had he become homeless, was clearly a mountain, outdoor enthusiast but Tracey spotted his rotting teeth as he smiled, holding up his murky water bottle telling us proudly he walks up daily to get the spring water. His wife’s shaking head & rolling eyes told us she tolerated him, just. Ready for refreshments we spotted a seat outside the Swan once back in the village, grabbed this before the other holy grail of an inside table came free. Sorted.

Next day we climbed the southern end passing the reservoir up to British Camp which is thought to have been the location of a hillfort dating from maybe 3,500 years ago in the Bronze Age. All this in stark contrast to a hillbilly house opposite the reservoir, with its charming friendly grunting Malvite family (?) which we hurriedly walked past. I’m sure I heard banjo music. The ridge walk past the fascinating terraces at the top of the steep

climb was very scenic with again the far reaching views. It is very accessible, which is great for inclusivity and in turn popularity at the weekend, but I think we both prefer the more remote areas of the Dark Peak. A little further on Daisy got “zapped” by the electric fence as she a little too close trying to retrieve a stick, getting proper angry at it yelping and barking though. Steered clear for a little while after to be fair.

The location of the site meant a fair few miles walking on the flat, albeit through lovely countryside and nice well heeled villages, before reaching the hills proper, imagine a topography like a flat line ECG graph with the Malvern lump like the bump start of a defribilator.

All in all a very nice few days away, Scotland next!