Walking the Cotswold Way Episode 4 - The Devil's Chimney and The Cheese Rolling at Cooper's Hill

Hi there and welcome to the Cotswold Explorer. I'm Robin Shapra and Ross and I are walking the Cotswold Way in aid of sexist research. We leave our slightly unprepossessing lay-by at Seven Springs, which was the finishing point of our last section, and as you will have heard if you saw the episode, marks arguably at least, and certainly in my view, the source of the Great River Thames, and make our way towards the mysterious feature of the Cotswold Ridge, the Devil's Chimney. More of that in a minute, and a proper introduction to this episode, but meanwhile, walk north-east to the staggered crossroads of the A436 and the A435. Turn left and left again along the minor road towards Hartley Hill. The way is, as usual, extremely well marked, and climbs along a minor road, and then skirting the escarpment through briars and brambles onto Carlton King's Common, revealing exceptional views over Cheltenham and the Severn Vale. There are numerous hollows in the gorse, due to the extraction of shell-rag stones for drystone walling, and the route crosses a hill fort, another of the prehistoric settlements that grace almost every hill pyrometry along this section of the Cotswolds, and brings you to the Devil's Chimney, where we introduce this section properly. We've arrived, quite soon after the beginning of this stage, at what's called the Devil's Chimney. It's a remarkable stone pillar, just over the edge of this cliff. It's making me feel decidedly twizzly. Interestingly, I noticed that the edges of the quarries around here are completely unprotected, so if you're bringing your children, unless you want to get rid of them, be careful. This is the most remarkable view, and for the first time we are looking at the Severn Estuary, which for us is a great morale booster. Despite its name, it's probably true that this weird pillar was created around 1780 by quarrymen, mostly as a kind of quarryman joke, and partly because it was made of slightly inferior stone for their requirements. Its ropey quality was demonstrated by the fact that in 1985 some pretty serious repairs and remedial work had to be carried out to ensure its safety. They inserted iron rods and used mortar to shore the thing up. Such was the value to the area of the tourism it draws, it was worth the expense. So the Cheltenhams retained their monument, at least for the moment, and were able to continue to try and convince us that the Devil, miffed beyond endurance by the huge number of Christian churches in the area, would sit on Leckhampton Hill and throw rocks at the Sunday churchgoers. Entirely a match for the Devil, the Cheltenham Christians threw the rocks back at him, driving him deep underground and trapping him there forever so he could no longer harass the villagers. Now he uses the mass of stone as his chimney to release the smokes of hell. Yeah, well, okay. The Cotswold Way drops down from the chimney past yet another quarry, now used as a car park, and it's here we pick up a new walker. I'm really thrilled to be able to say I have a new companion today. We're in the little spell between the Devil's Chimney and Birdlip. It's a lovely part of the Cotswold to be walking, and my new companion is my wonderful grandson, Huxley. There he is. Now it's brilliant to have him along. I'm hoping we've chosen a piece that isn't too steep for him. That's what I said to myself, and then I realised that actually he's more energetic than I am. You don't have to talk into that, you'll be fine. Now he's wearing, as you may have noticed, our new t-shirt. It's a fantastic t-shirt. It says Cotswold Explorer, walking the Cotswold Way in aid of Sepsis Research. They're available in our shop, if you're interested. All the profits from the sales of these t-shirts goes to Sepsis Research, so please, if you fancy one, grab it. He's a great model. Stick your arms out. There you go, that's what it looks like. We're going to walk, and we'll keep you posted on the way. We'll see you in a bit. It's terrific to have him with us, and we join the small road where it climbs a few hundred yards before branching off to the right across the countryside. This is horsey country. After all, we're only a few miles from Cheltenham Racecourse, and we quickly spot some unusual horses. Piebald, I think we used to call them. I believe they belong to a group of horses called Painted Horses, which are really a bit special. I have a vague memory of them being bred and used by Native Americans, but I may be wrong. We also find ourselves passing a setup called National Star. A terrific place, using an old but unexceptional country house as a venue for a remarkable institution, realizing the aspirations of people with disabilities. The Cotswold Explorer is always looking for different ways in which big houses are kept alive, and this looks like one we should come back and see sometime. I resist the temptation to take a diversion with Huxley to visit a village just a mile or so east called Cowley, where his seven-times-great-grandfather built a huge house and formal gardens. On the foundations of the former is now a seriously grand hotel called Cowley Manor, but the gardens, their cascades, and some of the original trees still exist, as does the little church and the tombs of his ancestors. Another time, perhaps. Meanwhile, our film of it is in the description. Also close, in fact a little closer, is the exceptional settlement of Cowley, which we visited before, and the details of that film are also in the description. If you're feeling energetic, a diversion is well worthwhile. Despite temptation, we stick to the trail, and skirting the hill, we climb slowly towards the top of Crickley Hill. We take a short break to have a bite of lunch and a drink, and confirm the absolute rule we've discovered on this trip. If we stop for a rest on an uncomfortable log, when we move on, we will find a bench no more than 50 yards further on. I am running out of superlatives to describe the views from these hills. Another amazing ancient settlement, well documented on signs and boards, seems to have existed here for 5,000 years up until about 500 AD. This extraordinary place could have held us up for hours, but Hux's mother wanted him back today, and everyone knows how easy it is for an old grandfather to bore the living daylights out of their grandchildren, so I simply vowed to bring him back sometime if he'll let me. Dropping down from this hill, through lovely beechwoods, down gentle paths with cliff-like edges, we're becoming increasingly aware of the noise of the 21st century. We are descending upon a huge and controversial piece of landscape engineering that really takes your breath away. The National Highways website describes it thus. A landscape-led highway scheme that will deliver a safe and resilient free-flowing road, while conserving and enhancing the special character of the Cotswolds National Landscape. Our scheme will improve the connection between two dual carriageway sections of the A417 at Brockworth and Cowley. It started in 2023 and is expected to finish in 2027. I think I'll reserve judgement on that. We cross the roads with the help of an extremely courteous driver who stopped the steady stream of enormous lorries to let us pass. I wish I could have thanked him, but he was too high up. We did notice, from this side of the valley, an amazing network of what looked like mountain bike tracks on the far slope. This was confirmed when we finally reached the other side of the valley and saw people having a wonderful time, risking life and limb. Something has come from all this already. And so, along the side of the hills, luckily staying reasonably close to the contours, we come to Birdlip Hill, and then Birdlip Village. Here we say goodbye to Huxley. It was a treat to have him along, and I'm so proud of his strength and resilience. A cup of tea and a biscuit, if that's your thing, can be had at the Royal George in Birdlip. This lovely village was once a huge tourist hotspot, but not quite so much these days. That doesn't mean it isn't a lovely place. It is, and hopefully the hotel does good business. I'm guessing a slightly old-fashioned but lovely place with comfortable rooms, good standard food, local staff, and all slightly in need of a lick of paint. Just my kind of gaff. And with the help of young Huxley here, who at eight years old, walking seven kilometres and a bit more up and down the Cosmo in the Scotland, it's such a brave thing to do. A massive achievement for the young man. I couldn't be prouder of him. It's brilliant and surely worth a couple of quid of everybody's money. Don't forget our JustGiving page for sepsis research is in the description. And don't forget all the other things we're doing. Our Patreon-based subscription channel is well worth an investment. We're doing some wonderful things on there and you will see the Cosmos Explorer stuff a couple of weeks before everybody else. That's all good fun. We've let my lovely grandson Huxley go home. He was absolutely magnificent. We're moving on to the next stage. As you can see, I've taken my t-shirt back from him. He modelled it beautifully, but it fits me slightly better. We're moving now between here in the direction of Painswick. Wonderful wooded countryside. I'm looking forward to it. We set off without Hux in the direction of Painswick. We are almost immediately engulfed in some truly wonderful ancient beech woodland. My imagination starts to run away with me, as it seems increasingly to do as the walk continues. We're walking through the woods just outside Birdlet, and this track is one of the examples of one of the things that really makes me feel fascinated by this route. This track is so old that it's dug itself feet into the ground. On either side of us are steep slopes, this one quite brief before it falls away cliff-like into the valley. But you can imagine people in the 12th and 13th century walking down this track, and it is an extraordinary feeling to be walking in their footsteps. Coincidentally, whilst walking these extraordinary lanes and spending my entire time imagining ancient Roman soldiers and medieval monks walking down them in My phone goes off, such is the modern world, and I made a message from the Ross, Ross's namesake, who is running a performance of Hamlet in Chedworth Manor. The performances are on the 15th, 16th and 17th of August. The surroundings are incomparable, and tickets are for the moment still available. Check the description for the link to their ticket site, and hopefully I'll see you there. I'm really looking forward to this. He's sent me a film of the actors practicing their fencing. It seems appropriate to show it to you in these extraordinary medieval surroundings. It is amazing walking through these lovely old woods. Part of them are ancient, there's no question about that. Very steep gullies everywhere. And notice there's a track going off to our right that is marked Private Drive. It suggests that these tracks are part of a big estate, probably leads to a great country house. I suspect they don't use it much anymore because it's rough, but there are signs of this being a rare truly ancient woodland. The animal tracks are amazing. They of course don't stick to the paths, so you see them all over the place running up into the hills, showing there must be lots of deer, foxes, badgers, even big mammals in this in this wood. It's absolutely beautiful. The estate, if I'm not seriously mistaken, is the Whitcomb Park estate, which has been in the hands of the Hicks Beach family for 400 years. Rudder, my invaluable 18th century guide, tells me there was no mention of the manor in the Doomsday Book, but after the dissolution it was granted to John Chamberlain. It was purchased from Chamberlain by the widow of Sir Michael Hicks, and it's been in the family ever since. These Hickses are of course related to Baptist Hicks, whose house in Chipping Camden was burned to the ground by the Royal Armies during the Civil War, as those of you who were with us at the beginning of this trip will already know. And the work they're doing, as we've discovered from the notices posted at the edge of the wood, is to fight the scourge of ash dieback, which is devastating the ash tree population of England at the moment. A sad note amongst the pleasure we're getting here in this fabulous wood. Walking through these lovely woods, it takes me back to my childhood. There's a lot of beech here, which was where I grew up, and this dip in the ground here, there's a sort of scoop out of the ground here, reminds me, and I think this may be what it is, is a bodger's hole. Bodgers were people who used to work in the woods a long, long time ago, and they'd stretch a lathe across the width of a hole like this. They'd lie under it and use their feet to turn the lathe, and they would make table legs and chair legs and that kind of stuff, and spindles and that kind of thing for the furniture tray. And I think this is a bodger's hole. I could of course be wrong, it could be made by something quite different, but it reminded me of this amazing fact. It wasn't that long ago, the bodgers were working certainly in the Chiltern Hills, and this could be them. Emerging briefly from the woods, Ross and I come across something we hadn't expected. Although, if we'd done our research properly, we would have done. This is a world-famous slope in the Cotswolds, called Cooper's Hill. I can barely contain my mirth here. The hill behind me, which as you can see, is practically vertical, is where every spring break holiday, a whole bunch of English people chase a full row of double-gloster cheese down the hill. It looks from here to be practically suicidal. It merely confirms the extraordinary eccentricity of the English. We walked through the wood, around the slope, in a comparatively gentle ascent to the top, whereupon Ross, young, brave and foolish as he is, said, I'm sorry but really I can't come here and not climb the hill itself. Down he went again, and tackled, entirely successfully as you can see, the almost vertical climb up Cooper's Hill. Now, every spring break holiday for the rest of his life, as he watches the lunatics throw themselves off this cliff, he can say, I climbed that hill in 2025. It was a doddle. It wasn't. The two people who sat at the top of the hill as our drone filmed the slope, were a father and daughter, equally brave in climbing the hill, who were kind enough to allow us to film them. It gives a sense of scale to this intimidating place. On we go, and the Cotswold Hills haven't finished with us yet. More beautiful woods, but a lot more climbing too. For a while, when we were fooling around at Cooper's Hill, I regretted the loss of Huxley, who, with his boundless courage and low centre of gravity, would certainly have climbed the hill, but afterwards I'm pretty sure he would have found himself tired out by the terrain. Such a beautiful place, but so unforgiving. We've come to the end of episode four of this extraordinary walk. We are having such a good time. We've come all the way from the Devil's Chimney, ran through some of the steepest and most challenging of all the Cotswold Walks. Very steep valleys, and we're just outside Painswick. And looking forward to walking in there next time. I hope you're enjoying this journey with us. I just want to remind you that Ross told me when we started this thing, that the elevation of this walk from here to Bath is the same as going up and down Snowdon three times. So we're putting ourselves through it on your behalf. So please do have a look at our Just Page. We're trying, as you can see from my chest, to raise money for Septuage Research. If you want a t-shirt, they're for sale in our shop, and all profits go to the charity. And also have a quick glance at our subscription channel, which is based on Patreon. You'll find the link to that also at the bottom of this video. Don't forget to subscribe to the Cotswold Explorer. And as my terrific grandson who joined us halfway through this episode says, don't forget to press the notification bell. And we'll see you very soon on our next stage.