Would you like to learn how to put up a dry stone wall? Or discover which plants to put in your stirfry and which to rub on your arthritis? Sarah Tucker goes back to nature in the Cotswolds.
The last time I visited the Cotswolds was with a boyfriend, meeting a group of his friends in a sprawling pad, which at one time was a monastery designed for prayer and meditation and is now principally used for those into country walks and fornication.
He drove the Aston Martin, annoying the locals as he swerved the potholes, swaggering to the other side of the road as they drove diligently on their own side. I returned feeling exhausted and disappointed, mainly because I’d seen little of the Cotswolds, associating the location as a place where a romantic weekend meant the bedroom had to be perfect and little else.
This time, the boyfriend and the Aston long gone, I visited by myself.
I booked a dry stone walling course (yes, there are such things) and a foraging course. Perhaps it is the witch in me or the possibility of a zombie apocalypse and all supermarkets closing on mass overnight. Still, I have always wanted to know which plants poison and strengthen the immune system.
This course, run by Wild Food UK, which has branches across the country, was ideal, only half an hour from where I was staying. I was also due to meet a master drystone waller the following morning, only half an hour away. This emerged as a constant theme during my weekend. Everywhere from where I was based was – according to the sat nav - half an hour away.
I booked through Cotswolds Hideaways, which has sister companies in Cornwall, Devon, Dorset, Suffolk, Norfolk and Yorkshire, and found myself taking a just over two-hour drive from Richmond to the village of Minchinhampton (the locals call it Minch for short) to the Coach House at The Lammas. A two double bedroom property, you are greeted with a hamper (tell them if you are gluten or dairy intolerant as they will adapt). Provisions sourced locally and organically in the fridge.
Four eggs were provided, all reassuringly very different sizes, the coffee machine producing brilliant coffee and wifi and Netflix working. Not that I had much need of the latter. I spent that first evening walking on the grounds, which are carefully manicured, some in narrow paths through the forest, others manicured. There’s evidence of rewilding, with large clumps of bluebells, daisies and buttercups grouped around each mature tree and a huge meadow of buttercups which is part of the village common.
As for the property, in one bedroom, there is a roll top behind the bed, sectioned off, which I’ve noticed is a style design favoured by a lot of boutique hotels (the roll top used to be in front of the bed), and lovely design ideas – oversized mirror resting on the floor in the bathroom so you can see yourself top to toe, careful mood lighting placed in every room. A long soak, a bit of Harry Potter and deep, uninterrupted sleep with the whole bed and duvet to myself. Bliss.
Dry stone walling is something I have always found of interest since a wall in front of a former home kept being knocked down by passing teenagers who thought it hilarious. The brilliantly named Bo Bark, Advanced Dry Stone Waller, was my instructor, and she (yes, she) put me through my paces, telling me how to place the larger stones on each side, the smaller stuff in the middle and how to chisel the stones to make them even. It is a bit like a jigsaw puzzle and Lego making. I am good at both, so I thought dry stone walling would be easy.
After 15 minutes of trying to find the right piece of stone, I feel it would be useful to say this is not a pastime for a perfectionist.
Nor is it something for someone who has a bad back, but for someone seeking therapy, who loves the outdoors, working with their hands (you need gloves) and wanting to learn a hobby that is genuinely useful and in demand (Bo is booked up for years in advance) it is very worthwhile.
I had brilliant weather throughout the weekend, but they don’t run the courses if it is very wet, just in case ‘the hammer slips’. It's fascinating to learn how the walls are built – always significantly wider at the bottom than at the top – and to understand the difference between igneous, sedimentary and metamorphic rocks, which I am sure those who took physical geography at school would know about – but I didn’t.
Bo is currently working on a millionaire’s very high drystone wall around his garden estate in Shropshire, which will take years to complete. She is genuinely one of the most contented people I’ve met in a long time. For anyone wanting to know more about the course, check out dswa.org.uk. Prices start from £150 to join a group of up to 8 people.
Before heading off to learn how to forage for my supper in Linton, a village about a 20-minute drive from Ross on Wye, I visited the farmers market in nearby Stroud.
This town is artier and edgier than nearby Cirencester and the towns of Tetbury and Malmesbury – all of which are beautiful, with their substantial rambling cobbled streets and yellow Cotswold brick buildings – but Stroud feels like a place where people live, rather than visit.
I bought some apple juice from Day’s Cottage (dayscottage.co.uk) and chatted to someone selling mushrooms like flowers in huge bunches.
I would normally say give yourself more time to get to places, but there are fewer 20-mile-an-hour speed limit rules in the Cotswolds, or that part of the Cotswolds, than there are now in urban built-up areas.
If it wasn’t for the potholes – I am sure they're there to keep the sports cars away – people would drive faster. As it is, I found myself reaching destinations faster than the sat nav suggested.
Eric Biggane owns a company (co-partnered with Marlow Renton) that has been running this foraging company for ten years: “I have always had an interest in plants, and mushrooms are my speciality.”
I joined a group of 15 (3-4 hours - £60pp / £30 under 16s) as we walked slowly around the village, stopping to chew and nibble on wild garlic, learning about the many gifts of the elder tree, how yew survives by feeding off itself – literally hollowing itself out – and how if you eat more than 25 of its needles you will die. There was one plant whose leaf had a soporific and diuretic effect; another with antiseptic and analgesic qualities. Then there was the nettle – nature’s superfood– lightly barbequed tastes amazing.
Nettle stings are good for you, Eric tells us, increasing the level of serotonin in your body and easing the pain of arthritis.
He has tried himself, but he is unsure if the sting's pain merely distracts from the pain of arthritis. “But it’s a more bearable pain”, he nods reassuringly.
“Don’t eat plants that don’t taste anything. The French chive tastes of onion, and the English chive tastes of grass. And there’s a plant which looks awfully like grass, making you very ill, " he tells me. I take note to keep buying my chives in Waitrose.
He shows us edible mushrooms that look like ears and others which grow in circles (they are the good ones). But if in doubt, don’t pick them. He and his partner have produced a book, the Wild Food UK Foraging Pocket Guide, which is well worth the price, but at the end of the tour, you will be sent via email a brief rundown of all the plants and leaves and mushrooms you encountered just in case you haven’t brought your notebook with you.
You’ll also be offered a light lunch, some excellent mushroom and wild garlic soup, and elderflower ‘champagne’, which is incredibly easy to make but highly explosive (it blew off his fridge door – but he did say he had gallons in there at the time). Best to leave it to ferment outside.
Take a weekend to the Cotswolds. Just leave the boyfriend at home.
Sarah stayed with Cotswolds Hideaways, who offer short stays at The Coach House at The Lammas (sleeps 4) from £861 (£72pp/pn) or £1,230 for a seven-night stay. www.cotswoldshideaways.co.uk
