My Camino de Santiago (In the footsteps of Napoleon)

At about 8:20 a.m. on Saturday 20th April 2013 my great expedition began, with me posing for a photograph under the clock tower by the Porte D'Espagne (Spanish gate). Earlier during my  leisurely breakfast I got into conversation with a little Frenchman with a thick white beard, who looked about seventy years old. He was dressed like me in walking clothes and I thought to myself he's going to struggle over the next few weeks. I enquired if this was his first camino to which he replied "No my second, I've already been to Santiago and now I'm walking home to Grenoble".  That completely shot me down in flames. But if he can do it I'm sure that I can as well.

Armed with my John Brierley guide book (the most popular one) and checking my direction at the first sign post I set off up hill into the Pyrenees. It is a 30 kilometre climb over the mountains to Roncesvalles (Valley of thorns) my first destination in Spain, although there is an alternative lower route. I chose to take the high path via the Route de Napoleon, used by the French army to enter Spain during the Peninsular war. This is the recommended path in good weather as although it is a strenuous ascent, you are rewarded with stunning views. The mist of the previous days had cleared and it was a clear crisp day, perfect for walking.

Snow was clearly visible on some of the high peaks and this being my first day I wanted to break myself in gently to avoid injury. Therefore I decided to break my journey and spend the night at a private albergue at Orisson only nine kilometres from St Jean. The ascent turned out to be easier than I anticipated on quiet country roads and  I reached Orisson by 10:30 a.m. much too early in the day to stop. So a quick refreshment break and with the second sello in my credencial, I carried on up into the mountains.

After a while the road veered away from my route and I now followed a rough grass track for the next few kilometres, past some wayside shrines, to the frontier with Spain. The sun was shining and Gryffon vultures were circling over head as I reached the highest point, the Col de Loepeder at 1,450 metres. From now on it was all down hill to Roncesvalles and the albergue, a converted monastery which I could see in the distance below.

It was a beautiful spring day as I descended through Beech woods to the valley of Roncesvalles and its magnificent Abbey and Monastery. Lying at an altitude 950 metres above sea level and with a resident population of less than 100 this is a major starting point for Spanish peregrinos. The old 110 bed dormitory as seen in the film 'The Way' has been replaced with modern bunk beds set  in cubicles of four, with excellent facilities. The old dormitory is now only used for overflow accommodation in peak season. That night I had an excellent peregrinos meal complete with red wine in the adjoining hotel before going to sleep. If anybody was snoring I was much too tired to hear them.

Note: 'I am not a complete Billy no mates'. During my camino I walked with peregrinos from all over the world and made some great friends. I talked about them in my original Facebook blog. However for this serialisation I have decided to write as if I was travelling alone in order to concentrate on my adventures and the places that I visited.

Here be Rabbits

Remember Monty Python's Life of Brian and "What have the Romans ever done for us". Well  apart from building roads, aqueducts etc they introduced rabbits into Britain for food. They were bred in captivity and were apparently considered a delicacy. After the Romans left, the rabbit population declined, as the native Britons and later Saxons weren't that keen on eating them; They much preferred the richer taste of venison and wild boar.

The year 1066 wasn't a good one for the Saxons, as we all know, William of Normandy came to visit with his band of merry Normans. Being a fair and reasonable king, one of the first things that he did was to ban the Saxons from hunting deer and boar. No wonder he was known as William the bastard. The Normans did however re-introduce rabbits or coneys to England which they allowed the Saxons to farm for food instead.

To this day in the Ashdown Forest there are still many local names with a rabbit connection. Places such as Crowborough Warren, Hindleap Warren, Wrens Warren and Broadstone Warren denoting a place where rabbits were bred in captivity for food. These man made warrens often consisted of a cigar shaped raised bank, twenty metres or more in length which can be seen marked on contemporary maps as 'Pillow mounds' written in Gothic script.

Pillow mound near Crowborough Warren (The raised green bank at the top of the picture)


The interior of the pillow mounds consisted of a series of  tunnels or burrows as accommodation for the rabbits, which were often lined with stones or brickwork. Rabbits can't swim so the banks were surrounded by a water filled moat to prevent them from escaping. A wooden fence was erected on the outside of this to stop predators getting in. The rabbits were caught by netting off several of the entrance holes and then sending a ferret down the tunnels to chase the rabbits into the nets.

Pillow mound with moat near Ashdown Forest Visitor Centre


In the middle ages the pillow mounds would probably have been quite an impressive sight as several of them were often grouped together on the open hillside. I was curious about these pillow mounds so Little dog and I went to look at some. These days though, the mounds have fallen into disuse and are not much to look at, in fact you would probably walk past them without realising what they once were. Even the rabbits don't appear to make use of them anymore, much too little dog's disappointment. The only rabbits she will be chasing today will be in her dreams.

No rabbits to chase here. Little dog rolls in leaves in the old moat instead.

The Raiders of the Lost Dam

Since discovering the remains of the old dam with Pete and Steve I was fascinated by it and wanted to explore further. So like a modern day Indiana Jones, wearing my old Tilley hat and armed with my camera and thermal mug of tea, I set off on an expedition to deepest, darkest Crowborough Warren.

Looking around from the stream it is very difficult to locate the remains of the dam as much of it was destroyed in the 1950's when it was breached during a storm. The damage is very extensive and you can't see the other side. However by standing at the foot of the broken dam and following its natural sweep across the missing section, I surmised that any further remains had to be in a north easterly direction on the far side of the valley. Visibility is very limited as the valley is now densely covered in tall trees.

I followed the footpath north for approximately 50 metres then crossed over the stream and bushwhacked my way through the thick undergrowth in an easterly direction. After another 50 metres there in front of me appeared the dam consisting of a large brick supporting wall with a series of arched alcoves in it. The whole dam was quite a substantial piece of Victorian engineering, now decaying and covered in ivy, moss and ferns.

I took a trip to my local library to carry out some historical research and found a book called 'Forest Camera' written by Peter Kirby in 1998. In the section on Crowborough I discovered that the valley was dammed in the early part of the nineteenth century by the landowner Edward frisby Harris (possibly Howis). He created a large expanse of water called New Mill pond, surrounded by parkland. Water from the pond was used to power the mill, which in 1840 was used to grind the flour to make Queen Victoria's wedding cake as the Miller was related to the Royal Baker.

 The water wheel which stood twenty feet high was removed from New Mill during  world war two for scrap and  the mill which had become derelict was pulled down. Builders took 5,000 tons of stone from the mill to use for local housing.

Throughout its history New Mill pond was used by the local residents and soldiers from Crowborough camp for swimming. Tragically over the years there have been several incidents of drowning, as the water was deep and very cold. The pond was eventually drained after being breached in the storm.

My Camino de Santiago (St Jean Pied De Port)

St Jean is one of the main starting points for modern day pilgrims undertaking El Camino De Santiago De Compostella.  Most people arrive here in the evening and set off on their trek the following morning, without taking time out to explore this delightful little town. I had planned to spend a day here to see the sights and make final preparations for my 820 kilometre stroll to Santiago.

This bridge and clock tower is the starting point on the road to Santiago

The following morning I went to the pilgrims office where I purchased my pilgrims passport or credencial, stamped with my first sello (stamp).  A credencial is your most valuable document on Camino as it allows you admittance to the pilgrims hostels (Albergues) each night and also provides proof of your journey. You guard it with your life and get it stamped at least once each day with a sello, obtainable from albergues, churches and bars.

When you arrive at the pilgrims office in Santiago with your completed credencial you are given your compostella (certificate) denoting that you have fulfilled your pilgrimage.

My Credencial complete with first sello (written in French)

St Jean Pied De Port (St John at the foot of the mountain pass) is a medieval walled town within the Basque region of the French Pyrenees. It is very pretty and well worth a visit, however the word little sums it up.  After getting my credencial I set off to experience the delights of the town. Two hours later, after visiting the town museum and walking the ramparts I was back in my hotel room wondering how I was going to fill up the rest of the day and evening.

View of St Jean from the Citadel

I used this time to make final adjustments to my kit including attaching a scallop shell to my pack, this is the symbol of peregrinos (pilgrims) walking the Way of St James (Sant Iago). The rest of the day was taken up drinking coffee, writing postcards to family and friends and sleeping. Tomorrow I have a long walk over the mountains.

My Hotel from the town ramparts.

Three go exploring

Yesterday Little dog went to Grandma's for the weekend where she will be spoiled rotten. I joined two of my mates Pete and Steve for a walk through 500 acre wood (100 Aker wood in the Winnie the Pooh stories) and Crowborough Warren. Shortly after entering the wood we  disturbed a herd of about twelve Fallow deer and I was lucky enough to get one fleeting photograph of them from a distance before they ran off.

Fallow deer in 500 acre wood


None of us is that familiar with Crowborough Warren but I was aware of an old Pack horse bridge which is a good location for photography. We found the bridge fairly easily but it was difficult to take good photographs of it, as it is set in a steep sided gorge, covered in vegetation and surrounded by fallen trees.

The old Pack horse bridge in Crowborough Warren


In the past this valley had been dammed to create a large pond which supplied water to power a mill. However the dam had failed sometime in the 1950's (apparently) and the pond had drained away. We were like three explorers on our Boys own adventure as we walked up stream looking for remains of this dam. Thinking that we would only find the odd stone we were surprised and delighted when we came across the dam which stood about five metres high spanning the steep sided valley.

The old mill dam

Nature has reclaimed this valley for it's own. It  is now covered in trees forming a green canopy over the rusty red stream, more evidence of the old iron industry. This valley is a hidden jewel in the Forest. After taking loads of photographs, we ate our lunch alongside this tranquil stream, making plans to return and carry out further explorations later in the year.

The hidden jewel of the Forest


We returned to our cars via Wrens Warren valley with it's large skies and views northwards towards Kents Greensand ridge and the North Downs.  A really great days walking in good company.