Skip to main content

National Forest Way: Bradgate Park

I'd been anxiously scanning the weather forecast, and the morning of New Year's Day was due to be sunny. "Right," I said, "Family trip to Bradgate Park. You can drop me off at Groby Pool."

Groby Pool


So far, so good. Groby Pool was very pretty in the morning sunlight. I headed south to cross the A50. Fortunately there was very little traffic, as there wasn't a proper crossing at this point, and it would normally be a busy dual carriageway.

I worked my way through an estate of neat bungalows in Groby. One had a garden full of frogs!


At the end of Woodland Lane I found the path from Martinshaw Wood, and I was back on the National Forest Way. This took me back down to the A50 (there was a pedestrian crossing here, but I didn't need it).

joining the NFW

A track took me into the pleasant Lady Hay Wood. There was still a lot of water around. At this rate I feel like I'm going to be walking in wellies until June! We have had so much rain this winter.



Apart from the mud, the going was easy and the paths were all clear. Quite a few other people were enjoying this first day of the new year.



view across to Bradgate Park

Then I got to Newtown Linford. It was packed. The main Bradgate Park car park was full, and cars were queuing and hooting on the road. I dodged through the traffic and on to the main path in Bradgate Park. A complete contrast to my previous walks, where I'd hardly seen another person. There were kids on bikes, kids in pushchairs, kids on scooters. Couples walking hand in hand, family groups chatting, parents persuading reluctant teenagers.

Newtown Linford church

main path at Bradgate
 

Weaving through the throng, I passed the ruins of Bradgate House, where the NFW (and Leicestershire Round) turned left to go up to Old John Tower. I continued on to the visitor centre, though, to meet Graham, Toby and Theo.


"Did you manage to park in the main car park?" I asked. 

"Don't talk to me about parking!" said Graham. 

They'd spent an hour trying to find somewhere to leave the car, and eventually stopped on a muddy verge at the other end of the park. Oh dear. I knew Bradgate Park would be busy, but I hadn't realised it would be quite this bad.

Still, we were all together now, and we set off for the walk up to Old John Tower. Ahead of us, two vapour trails formed a large X in the blue sky.


Old John Tower ahead

At the tower, we stopped for a bite of lunch and to admire the view. It was clouding over now, but still impressive.



We dropped down the other side of the hill to the Hunts Hill entrance to Bradgate Park. At this point I'd been expecting to turn left and follow the public footpath along the western edge of the park, back to Newton Linford. But our car was in the opposite direction. 


So we continued along the NFW, on a footpath just outside the north boundary of the park. It started off well, but then turned into a stream. The boys only had shoes on; they got rather wet. When we got to a track leading out to the road, we took that, and left the National Forest Way at the point where it entered Swithland Wood.

From there we followed the road back to the car. Fortunately it came off the muddy verge more easily than it had gone on. And I'd completed the second-to-last section of the NFW - one more walk to go!


11.7 km / 7.3 miles

Previous sections:

Ratby and Martinshaw Wood

Bagworth and Thornton Reservoir

Ellistown, Bagworth, Nailstone

Normanton le Heath - Ellistown

Ashby - Normanton le Heath

Calke Abbey - Ashby de la Zouch

Hartshorne, Foremark, Calke Abbey

Overseal - Hartshorne

Rosliston - Overseal

Rangemore - Rosliston

National Memorial Arboretum - Rangemore

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Growing things

For those of you who are interested in my attempts at balcony gardening, I thought I'd update you a little. For those who aren't, don't skip this post. You may find something else of interest. Apart from the ever-present herbs, tomatoes and cayenne peppers are on the go this year. The peppers are really on the go - we went away for a week and came back to find them twice the size as when we left. Now they're producing fruit which is growing at a similarly rapid rate, though none has ripened to red yet. I realised I should have given you some kind of scale, so I just went out and measured. They're about 22 cm long, or 8 1/2 inches for you non-metric types. I may have to find out how to dry peppers if they all ripen at once. A couple of tomato plants are looking pretty healthy and beginning to flower. A few died; one, apparently, by being eaten whole by a bird, a trouble I've never had before. I had two seedlings left so used those as replacements, b...

Hosting Thanksgiving

OK, I have to confess.  This will be a very boring Thanksgiving story.  Everything went right and it was a lovely day.  For an interesting story you need a few things going wrong.  I heard a couple of interesting stories this year - like the one about mis-measuring bourbon to go in the stuffing.  Apparently if you put far too much in, all the alcohol doesn't boil off.  Or the one about going to cook dinner at an Asian friend's house, and discovering at the last minute that she doesn't have any baking trays, and it's quite difficult to roast a turkey in a wok.  But as I said, we didn't have so much as a lumpy gravy panic. Where's my food??? We're working on it, baby! So what do you want to know?  Well, it was my first Thanksgiving dinner cooked on American soil.  Back when I was free and single and shared a house with lots of people who liked to eat, I got into the habit of celebrating the American feast for a few years, until the...

On having an accent

Back in the olden days, when it was a major undertaking to get from, say, Bristol to London, or even Bristol to Weston-super-Mare, and so most people didn't bother, it is said that you could place people within 10 miles or so by their accent. Now that we've built motorways and everyone spends their days whizzing up and down them, you have to go a bit further to get your accent noticed, but moving 3700 miles from Bristol to Texas certainly does the trick. Of course, I don't really have an accent - I speak quite normally, thank you very much, but everyone else talks funny around here, so naturally I stand out as different. It's been a strange experience to be marked out the minute I open my mouth. About the second thing everyone says to me is, "You're not from around here" or, "Where are you from?" Even though we talk the same language (well, almost), the way I speak says I'm a newbie, a stranger, something exotic. Fortunately the thir...