More wet on the Forest

I've been extremely busy in the past couple of weeks, working and  preparing for Christmas so Little dog and I have not had much time to visit the Forest. We are also experiencing pre christmas gales in Sunny Sussex with gusting winds and constant rain. Most of the local rivers have broken their banks and spread across their flood plains, luckily there has been very little flooding to homes and properties.

 The Forest is very wet and boggy underfoot so there are fewer visitors which is just the way that I like it. Hopefully we will get some freezing weather soon which will make it even more enchanting.

In the mean time here are some photographs of the Forest to bring back happy memories of recent walks to keep me going until after the festive season when Little dog and I will be out and about again. So have a great Christmas everybody from Little dog and me.

My Camino de Santiago (Cannibals and Pinchos)

A few of my fellow Peregrinos woke up with hangovers as a result of last nights partying, I however somehow managed to avoid one. In fact I was feeling really bright and breezy, my stomach was completely back to normal (that cheap Rioja wine will cure anything), I even managed to eat a typical Spanish breakfast of sweet cakes, croissant and cafe con leche.

We were heading for Burgos, the first sizable city since Pamplona where I intended to take my first rest day and do a little sight seeing. Today the weather had warmed up a little as I set off in company with Pablo and Lucy (still protecting their identities). We kind of dawdled as Pablo's leg was playing up again as a result of an earlier muscle strain.

After a few kilometres we passed through the small Pueblo of Atapuerca with it's archaeological park which was designated a Unesco World Heritage site in the year 2000. The remains of the earliest human being ever discovered in europe were found in a cave here while they were digging a rail line to a nearby mine. They are believed to be 900,000 years old and the ongoing dig has revealed that people were living here up to 1,000,000 year ago. The site has also revealed that our earliest ancestors were cannibals, even today there are very few vegetarians in Spain (no connection, I'm sure). Unfortunately we were unable to visit the site or museum as they were both closed at this time in the morning.

Once through Atapuerca the path led us up hill past a military training area to a small flat plain on which we came across a large wooden cross and the love circles, another one of the unofficial icons of the Camino Frances. A few years ago some unknown person started making a concentric circle out of the stones which litter this hill side. Over the years passing pilgrims have added to it, so that now it is quite large. Somebody has also created a love heart out of the stones as well. Just over the crest of the hill we got our first view of Burgos a few kilometres away in the distance.

The route into Burgos led us through some sleepy villages. We had to vacate one of them in a bit of hurry after Pablo pulled on a rope running up the outside of the small chapel. The rope was connected to the bell which started to ring exceedingly loudly, bringing locals out of their houses to see what was happening. We were laughing like a bunch of naughty school children as we ran away, luckily no harm was done.

 Some time later we came to the perimeter fence of the airport. We followed this fence along a muddy track into an industrial zone on the outskirts of the city until we came to the suburbs. The quickest way into the city was by following a busy main road choked with heavy traffic. As we didn't fancy breathing in all the exhaust fumes we crossed the road and walked through a small housing estate where we discovered a path that followed the river into the city centre.

Pablo spotted a sign for 'MacDonalds' as we entered the old city so left us and went in search of a Big Mac meal. Lucy and I carried on and booked into the municipal albergue which was located very close to the Cathedral. We met up with some of our friends who invited us to a pilgrims mass at the Cathedral later in the evening. First however we went in search of some local food and were lucky enough to find a small bar selling excellent pinchos (not tapas) and decent wine at a reasonable price, this is much better than a Maccy D's meal.

A Dickens of a Christmas

"Marley was dead: There was no doubt whatsoever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail". These are the opening lines of one of the best Christmas stories ever written, 'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens, and are suitably apt for this weeks blog post.

Ebenezer Scrooge and one of the Christmas Ghosts.

The ghost of Jacob Marley, dragging his chains  (Why is he wearing silver wellies?).


Every year at this time the City of Rochester on the River Medway in Kent holds a Dickensian Christmas Festival in honour of the great author who lived here for many years and is where he wrote many of his greatest works. Every December Mrs C and I have said that we would like to visit this Festival but either have been too busy or too lazy to drive there. So this year we set aside a date in our diary and made an extra effort to get up early and drive the fifty miles to Rochester. It was a great decision as the Festival and Christmas market in the Castle grounds were brilliant.

We parked outside of the city and caught the free park and ride bus to Rochester High Street in the shadow of the Castle and Cathedral where the main events are held. As we walked from the main road towards the High street we came across the first tableau, a group of itinerant Victorian tinkers setting up camp on the grass outside of the Civic centre. They appeared to be right out of a scene from the television drama 'Lark Rise to Candleford' (Not one of Dickens works).

Miss Havisham from 'Great Expectations'.

Bill Sykes, Nancy and Bullseye from 'Oliver Twist'.


As we strolled up the High street with it's many period buildings we kept bumping into characters from many of Dickens books and groups of people dressed in authentic Georgian and Victorian costume. Many of the actors really got into character. I particularly liked the drunken itinerants and very tall Police officers, whilst Mrs C loved the colourful dresses and crinolines worn by the elegant Ladies.

Many of the buildings were open to the public, some were directly connected with Charles Dickens while others held displays of Victorian clothing and  paraphernalia. We visited the old boarding school which we found fascinating as it contained displays of toys and educational relics from the period. The Cathedral was also open so we paid a visit there as well. I am not a particularly spiritual person but I love the peace and tranquility of religious buildings. We placed a silver star on the Christmas tree in memory of past family and friends for a small donation to a church charity. There was also a book of condolence for Nelson Mandela which I signed on our behalf.

At noon everybody in the High street was ushered onto the pavements as the main Dickens parade began by the Civic centre. All the characters prominaded along the the length of the street wishing everybody they passed a hearty "Merry Christmas". They were led by a Highland pipe band and members of the rotary club collecting money for charity. We were right next to the kerb so had a grandstand view enabling me to take some half decent photographs of the many colourful participants. It was a really fantastic day out, well worth getting up early for.

The (not so) Top Secret Site

Once there was a war! It was fought against a ruthless enemy who would stop at nothing in their aim to achieve world domination. In order to combat this threat the good guys (That's us and our allies) had to resort to some rather ungentlemanly means of warfare. The site where one particularly devious form of black propaganda was transmitted from is on the top of the Forest near King Standing. It's purpose was to cause chaos and confusion to the armed forces and population of Nazi Germany.

Concrete Tank trap opposite the entrance to the Sussex Police Dog training site.


Many people drive past this site every day and most of them have no idea of it's top secret past. It is now used by Sussex Police as a dog training establishment. One clue to it's purpose, however is the large radio mast (There were four masts originally) which dominates the skyline and is visible from all across the Forest. The site also houses a large underground nuclear bunker (extended during the 1950's), a legacy of the cold war.

The site was excavated in 1942 by the Canadian Army Engineers who built the original underground bunker which held a medium wave wireless transmitter. The transmitter, once the most powerful in the world, was purchased by the British Secret Service from the American broadcasting company RCA for £165,000. It was given the codename of 'Aspidistra' from the Gracie Fields song 'The biggest Aspidistra in the world'. The transmitter was controlled by the Political Warfare Unit of MI6 and operated by German speaking servicemen and women from the Royal Air Force.

The first transmissions began in 1943 in order to disrupt enemy night fighter operations against Allied bomber raids over Germany. During air raids the German ground radar broadcasting stations would direct their night fighters against the Allied bomber streams. Part of the Allies strategy to defeat this threat was for German speaking RAF operators to impersonate the German ground operators. They misdirected the Nazi night fighters by ordering them to land or by directing them away from the bomber streams to quiet sectors. This operation codenamed 'Dartboard' arguably saved the lives of many British and Allied aircrews.

Two views of Tank traps several hundred metres below the Aspidistra site, the radio mast can be seen on the horizon.

Later in the war Aspidistra was used to impersonate German radio stations which often stopped broadcasting during air raids in their locality. Initially the Allies would re-broadcast Nazi transmissions on the same frequency to give the impression that they were a genuine German station. They would then add their own bits of black propaganda and misinformation in order to cause confusion and demoralise the German people. In early 1945 Aspidistra informed the German people that the Allies were spreading false information over the state telephone system. Another broadcast told them that forged banknotes were being circulated in Leipzig.

Remains of a building and gears that are in direct line between the Tank traps and Aspidistra site (I'm not sure of their use but I feel that they are somehow connected with the site).

German radio stations tried in vain to inform their citizens that the Allies were transmitting false information by impersonating their broadcasts. To counter this MI6 broadcasted similar messages in their transmissions. However ungentlemanly this form of psychological warfare was, it certainly helped in winning the war.

In case any members of MI6 are monitoring this blog and in order for me to avoid having to seek refuge in a Hotel in Moscow Airport I can assure all my readers that I am not divulging State secrets. All the information here is readily available on the internet, thanks to Wikipedia and other websites.

My Camino de Santiago (Ghosts of the past)

Looking through the latest copy of the Radio Times I notice that there is a new television programme starting next Tuesday evening called 'Pilgrimage'. In the series, Simon Reeves a professional travel presenter apparently finds his spiritual side by following in the footsteps of pilgrims from Holy Island to Jerusalem. One of his pilgrimages is from St Omer in France to Santiago de Compostella.

 I realise that I have been a little lapse lately about posting blogs about my camino, so reading this article I am encouraged (Translates as 'needing a good kick up the backside') to  carry on writing about my adventures. Now where was I..........Oh yes, just leaving Belorado!

Today I had breakfast in the albergue, all you can eat for three euros. It sounds great although I personally can only eat so much croissant and sugary cakes first thing in the morning, so not such a great deal after all. All the American peregrinos are in their element as they are able to buy really good coffee in every bar at a very reasonable price, I on the other hand would love nothing better than a really good cup of English Breakfast Tea. As we all know you can't get good tea on the Continent.

I set off walking under an overcast sky, the sun was trying desperately hard to break through the murk but failing miserably. The first few kilometres were over fairly flat terrain until I came to the small town of Villafranca Montes De Oca. Here the trail took a steep ascent up a muddy path through woodland with fleeting glimpses of the adjoining hills and valleys. The scenery reminded me of the North Downs in Kent and Surrey.

After climbing to the top of the hill the route followed a long ridge through pine and birch forest for approximately eleven kilometres. In the past this was a wild and lonely place inhabited by bandits who used to prey on the peregrinos. Today It is still a very quiet and desolate place, except for the intermittent sound of traffic on the nearby motorway.

Approximately half way along the ridge in a very remote location I came across a large concrete memorial. This was the Monumento de los Caidos, a memorial to the Caidos (Fallen) who were executed here during the Spanish civil war in 1936 and a stark reminder of the futility of war. The mass grave contained the remains of men from the city of Burgos who were against the ruling Republican Government.  Apparently they were kidnapped during the night and driven to this lonely site where they were murdered. It was an eerily haunted place, there was no sound of birdsong or animals, only the distant hum of traffic, I am not superstitious or easily spooked but I was glad that I was not there by myself.

After a long weary walk along this beautiful ridge I descended to the small hamlet of San Juan de Ortega a traditional pilgrim halt with a bar and hostel adjoining the church. The sun had finally come out so I purchased a beer from the bar and sat outside on a bench to eat my lunch. It was still quite early so I decided to walk a few kilometres to the albergue at another small hamlet called Age's (pronounced Arches).

Today was the first of May and a public holiday in Spain just like in the UK. My stomach was feeling much better, so that evening I joined a group of fellow peregrinos in celebrating the holiday with a delicious meal accompanied with numerous beers and wine. I slept like a log that night, totally oblivious to the sound of loud snoring coming from one of the bunks in my dormitory. In the morning I woke up to find that a Spanish family with young kids and a baby had spent the night in our dormitory. They were walking the camino in sections as part of their annual holidays and it was great to see that the children in particular appeared to be really enjoying their adventure.