Hovis and Heavy Horses

Nearly everyone in England is familiar with the old Hovis advert from 1973, putting Gold Hill, Shaftsbury in Dorset on the map. I had been wanting to visit this location for years and so Mum and I set off on Tuesday. It was very close to her home, as an American perspective, maybe not an Englishman's. After shortly arriving in the US an elderly gentleman told me a phrase I've never forgotten: "An American thinks 100 years is a long time, and an Englishman thinks 100 miles is a long way." Very true, I thought, but after living 20 years in the States I'm a hybrid and think neither apply to me. So about 30 minutes later we had parked in Shaftesbury and were walking along cobbled streets with tiny shops to the famous hill.

This is a killer hill to climb and I'd never make it on a bike. Incidentally the old advert made a comeback with the boy on the bike returning as a retired 57 year old firefighter.
The gentleman who is in one of my photos climbing the hill stopped to chat. We had a good old natter for about 20 minutes and then went on our way down the hill. It would be amusing as the day passed as we would meet this same man on another 3 occasions as we walked about the town. By the end of the day and on our last farewell we pretty much knew each others' life histories.

Mum and I walked up the hill back to town, but made the incline by way of a park, stopping to pick wild damsons on the way up and graze on nasturtium leaves, we were so hungry. The views were stunning from the top so we went to the local bakery, bought a Wiltshire pasty and an Eccles cake each, and then walked back to the Park Walk where we sat on a bench and ate our lunch while enjoying the vista. Delicious was such an understatement. Both pies were stuffed with filling and with such rich pastry that it was impossible to stop eating, even though I knew I'd be feeling uncomfortably full afterwards. I had also bought 6 crusty rolls from the bakery, something that's impossible to buy stateside. It was very strange when the following evening, I spoke with my brother Greg on the phone, and he lamented that he was having a problem finding good crusty rolls and that he'd demolished an Eccles cake that day. Weird...

Mum and I had to get up and walk off our hefty, but scrumptious, lunch and so sauntered around Shaftesbury Abbey. This had been demolished by Henry VIII in 1539 when he had ordered that all religious buildings be closed. King Alfred had been the founder of the abbey and King Canute had died here. We listened to the audio tour and had a few laughs as we posed for photos, with me dressing up in clothes that we were pretty sure were for school kids.
We finished our day in The Elephant and Castle, a pub near home. I was determined to get a few good beers down me and I wasn't disappointed. We sat in the pub garden, the astro turf gleaming a bright emerald green in the sunshine. I had a Razerback Ale from Ringwood Brewery. Tangy, hoppy and citrusy, it hit the spot. The brewery suggested it went well with salt and vinegar crisps, but unfortunately I had no room for those.

On Thursday we stayed close to home and visited the Heavy Horse Farm. Another attraction I'd been wanting to visit for a while as I love horses. With the kids back at school it wasn't overcrowded and we got there early so we could follow the day's schedule.

The day began with feeding. We were introduced to the horses one by one, helping to drag the feed buckets into the stalls. The gentleman yelling out the introductions was a hoot. Highly sarcastic he took great delight in ridiculing the horses but mainly us, the visitors. I was sniggering the whole time, especially when he explained that when the horses were being considered for farm work, the prospective buyers looked for huge backsides, as this was the horse's brake system. He them looked over the group, exclaiming that this ruling would have applied to a few of us. The horses began kicking their stable doors as the buckets were distributed but it was evident that they never went hungry. I had bought £5 of treats when we came in and halfway through our visit we bought another £5. Apparently the horses know that most treats are obtained when they're in their stalls so prefer to be in those rather than out in the fields. They're put out at night when it's cooler with less flies to bother them but are eager to get back to the stalls in the morning, anxious to be in place when the visitors arrive.

 

There's an impressive display of vintage vehicles, all lovingly restored. I was particularly taken with the Romany caravans, hand painted inside and out.

A small petting zoo area held turkeys, ducks, goats and donkeys, all happy to be petted, as well as feral cats that live under the cafe. These are encouraged to stay as they keep the rat and mouse population down. They're not fed but the kittens are handled from an early age so they get used to humans.

The newest attraction was a mock up of the trenches from WWI that was dedicated to the horses used during the war. As you walked the route you followed the story of one particular horse as well as reading facts from the period. I have to admit that I had a lump in my throat when we finished.
I spent a lot of time with the guy above, I was very taken with his mustache. Apparently Gypsy Vanner horses have more hair than other horses, thicker manes and feathers around their hooves, and also resulting in their unique facial hair. I think it's rather becoming and he got more treats and hugs from me than the others.

 Colony Uno is a Suffolk Punch, a breed that has had the feathers over the hooves bred out. Farriers hate feathers since they can ignite while being shod. This is such a pure bred horse that it only comes in the chestnut color and is close to extinction.

 Orestes is an Ardennes, a very rare breed and is the farm's best example of what a medieval war horse would look like, bred to carry the heavy armor. Virtually prehistoric, this is the breed that all the other heavy horses originate from.

I was amazed to learn that Percheron horses are born almost black and lighten with age, going to a beautiful dappled grey and then to white.

We finished the day with a tractor ride, coerced onto the trailer by the same gentleman who had described the horses. A few drops of rain started to fall and he called back to us that hopefully our Primark summer collection clothing wouldn't be ruined. Primark is a very cheap, badly made, clothing store. I howled with laughter as we bumped around the muddy field to the music blasting from his tape player. I sang along to The Wurzels songs, Combine Harvester and I am a Cider Drinker. I think I had more fun that day than the kids!