The drive to Wye Valley Canoes was relaxed, stopping once in a village on route for lunch. When we finally arrived we noticed how busy it seemed and realised there was likely to be a delay. Since we were starting from Bredwardine and not our current location in Glasbury we were told we would have to wait for the minibus and trailer to come back. In the meantime Glyn and I packed our belongings into the barrels that are provided to keep your things dry. They asked us where we planned to stop the 1st night and seemed shocked when we said Hereford Rowing Club. We were warned that since the rowing club was over 14 miles away, we would be pitching our tent in the dark, and all due to the late start. Finally we were on our way, arriving at Bredwardine just before 2:30pm. We lowered the canoe down the bank, watched by families relaxing in deck chairs or swimming in the River.
It felt good to be on the water, Glyn taking the rear seat as the more experienced. We immediately noticed the number of kingfishers on display, spotting more in the first hour than either of us had seen before in our entire lives. We were making good progress, perhaps too good as Glyn warned me to slow down and use a more relaxed stroke. I was beginning to read the River, the deeper sections tending to be quite still on the surface.
I was struck by how peaceful it was, just the odd fisherman on the bank and a kayak or two. The quick pace we were setting meant I had aches in my back and arms, but it felt good, knowing I was working hard. At just before 7:30pm we arrived at Hereford rowing club, paid £5.00 for the privilege of camping and carried the canoe to the camping field. Shortly after the tent was up and we were heading into town to get a meal.
On the fourth attempt we found a pub that could serve us food, placed our order and enjoyed a pint of their local ale. The service was quick, both of us soon enjoying a hearty meal. We could hear a live band playing downstairs and as soon as we had eaten, we decided to check them out.
As the evening wore on, the pain from my arms was becoming too much, I literally couldn't find a position that was comfortable. I decided to go for a walk and left Glyn to enjoy the sounds of Pink Floyd. I quickly found a late night Tescos and headed straight for the pharmacy, picking up the fastest acting pain relief I could find. Two pills and a bottle of isotonic drink later I rejoined Glyn in the pub. When the band stopped playing we decided it was time to head back to the rowing club. The pills seemed to be working, the pain was less severe and I felt confident that I might get a good nights sleep after all.
Saturday morning we poked our heads out of the tent to be greeted by a thick mist, the type you often get near water. To help wake us up we headed for the showers, both of us impressed by the facilities in the club. As the tent still had lots of moisture on it, we left it in the sun while we found a café for breakfast. With something in our bellies, I felt ready for the day. Glyn bought a gas canister for his stove and returned to the tent while I had a haircut from a delightful young lady in a black dress.
With the sun burning through the mist and drying the tent we packed away and were soon back on the water heading for Holme Lacy. Having had a busy couple of weeks and feeling somewhat tired I found myself falling asleep in the canoe! Luckily this was our shortest day, just over 8 miles and we had arrived at Lucksall caravan park by lunchtime. Once the tent was up we decided to take a short walk, stopping off at a pub for a drink. The combination of the sun on my back and sheer exhaustion meant it was not long before I had fallen asleep in the pub garden! I only dozed for about 20 minutes but that was long enough for Glyn to take a crafty photograph or two.
Gary asleep again! - Photo by Glyn Rice
As we were in no hurry to get back to the campsite we decided to continue our walk, buy some supplies and then visit another pub for more drinks and our evening meal. Eventually we decided to head back, taking a slightly different route through the fields, enjoying the last of the heat from the sun as it began to set.
Sunset near Holme Lacy - Photo by Glyn Rice
Sunday morning we were both up quite early but took our time to head to the showers. Glyn got the stove going and it was not long before we were tucking in to a cooked breakfast. We decided to cook all the food we had and used what we couldn't eat for sandwiches.
Faced with 20 miles of paddling we decided to pack the tent away and get on the water before 10am. After a few miles we decided to pull into the bank and tuck into some chocolate digestive biscuits we had bought. They proved to be completely moorish and we ended up scoffing the lot, using the excuse that they might melt if we did not eat them quickly.
Ready to continue with our journey, Glyn suggested I have a go in the back of the canoe and be responsible for the steering, was he mad! As it turned out we seemed to make very good progress and before long we were heading towards a small section of beach. Safely beached, we nodded to the locals who were sunbathing and walked through a field to the village of Hoarwithy. It was a strange place, almost like a ghost town with only the pub open. We felt it would be rude not to pop in for a drink and something to eat and spent an hour in their garden enjoying the fine weather.
Before heading back to the canoe we decided to have a look at the village church, St. Catherine's. We were both very impressed, it almost seemed too special to be in such a tiny village.
St. Catherine's Church, Hoarwithy - Photo by Gary Box
St. Catherine's Church, Hoarwithy - Photo by Gary Box
St. Catherine's Church interior, Hoarwithy - Photo by Gary Box
With time ticking on we headed back to the canoe. I realised that I'd been enjoying myself so much that I had forgotten to take any photographs of the canoe. Glyn offered to pose for a quick snapshot and then we were back on the water, paddling towards our destination at Ross on Wye.
Glyn in Canoe - Photo by Gary Box
With less than a mile to go, the heavens suddenly opened forcing us both to paddle to the left side of the bank to take cover under a large tree. Though the rain eased slightly, it was clear that this was more than a shower so we decided to continue, arriving at Benhall Farm in Wilton soon after.
This was the most basic of the three places we stayed, the showers and toilets were the simple portaloo type. They did do bed and breakfast for those that did not fancy roughing it.
Luckily the rain stopped, allowing us to pitch the tent. Having paddled for 19 miles we were both looking forward to a good meal in a local pub. A short walk later we had agreed on a pub and ordered a pint and our meals. Contented and relaxed we stayed in the pub most of the evening, finally leaving just before closing time to return to the tent.
I slept well, Glyn less so, as the farm was close to the bridge that took traffic into Ross. The stove was soon lit and before long we were enjoying the first cuppa of the morning. It seemed rain was not far away and we both agreed not to continue to Symonds Yat, instead hoping to get back to London earlier than expected.
I called Wye Valley Canoes who agreed to collect us later that morning. The farmer's dog came to say hello, curious to know who we were.
Glyn & farmer's dog - Ross on Wye - Photo by Gary Box
After our second or third hot drink of the morning the van arrived to take us back to Glasbury. The weather seemed to be improving and part of me wished we had continued. Once back in Glasbury, we loaded the car and began the drive home, stopping in the Cotswolds for a snack.
The trip had been great fun, and we will be back in 2006 to paddle a different section of the River Wye.
Article submitted by Gary Box
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