Wiltshire |
Wiltshire has plenty to offer for a weekend visit, whatever your age or interests, as Helen Werin finds out … |
The woman was urging her husband to make sure he got the noticeboard displaying the magnificent cathedral’s name in his photograph. That way, the couple wouldn’t confuse Salisbury with all the other great British sights on their whistlestop tour. To many tourists like this American couple, Salisbury cathedral may be just another quaint relic of our ecclesiastical history to snap away at. In fact, it has got something that no other cathedral in Britain can boast; the world’s best preserved Magna Carta – one of only four remaining copies of it. In the rather stark circular confines of the Chapter House the almost 800-year-old charter attracted plenty of passing interest from the sightseeing throng. I am not sure how many of them truly appreciated what it is all about given their busy schedules. Perhaps that’s why a charming and knowledgeable guide certainly seemed very pleased that I was taking the trouble to learn a little more. And this is where seeing the ‘real thing’ beats a million and one boring history lessons in school. For what I found so fascinating about Salisbury ‘s Magna Carta – as I stood there taking shorthand notes – was that this document was actually written in shorthand, too. Albeit a method of Latin shorthand in a Gothic script with Arabic symbols. The reason? There was obviously no other way for the scribe, Elias Dereham, then canon of the cathedral, to squeeze 3,500 words on to such a small piece of calfskin. In the nave you can also see what is probably the oldest working mechanical clock in the world, dating back to 1386. Curiously, this clock has no hands and no face, but rings a chime of bells every hour, having been built to call the bishops to services.
Salisbury has plenty of other charms beside its cathedral, although the spire rising above the water meadows as so timelessly captured by Constable is most peoples’ abiding vision of this city. There are quaint, half timbered buildings, a bustling market and inviting small shops in the compact city centre. On the outskirts are the remains of the prehistoric fortress of Old Sarum built by Iron Age people in about 500BC. Then there is the rolling countryside with its pretty villages and thatched cottages. No wonder the Americans and Japanese love it here. We’d based ourselves in the comfortable Travelodge tucked off the Warminster by-pass less than a half-hour’s drive away. This was a great centre for our family weekend’s activities – plus all four of us could be cosily accommodated in one en-suite room for a very reasonable £70 (even less sometimes with offers). There was a small shop, takeaway and restaurant on the doorstep to add to the convenience.
Six-year-old Sophie, in particular, wanted to see for herself just how much mischief the next generation of monkeys could make. Of course everyone drives at a snail’s pace through Longleat safari park fervently hoping that a few little monkeys will climb onto their cars. It’s quite amusing actually to watch the rather worried expressions on the (usually male) drivers’ faces whilst all the children in the backs of the cars do their best to attract the monkeys. It just wouldn’t be the same if you drove through without the sight of a small pink bottom pressed up against your windscreen, the scurrying of little feet on the roof or the manipulation of your windscreen wipers/ washers and windscreen rubber by tiny fingers. Thankfully, the monkeys were not dissuaded from their cheeky antics by the continual downpour of rain. In fact, their attempts to lick the raindrops off our vehicle’s paintwork were the cause of much merriment. Obviously the immense grounds of Longleat are better appreciated on a sunny day but there was plenty to do out of the rain; the Marquis of Bath’s fabulous house with its wealth of fascinating personal items, particular portraits, on display; a fun mirror maze and a restaurant serving delicious cream teas. But we had come for as close as possible encounters with the lions, tigers and other animals that roam the various themed reserves – and we weren’t disappointed. Wolves, lions, huge Siberian tigers, camels, eland, deer, giraffe, zebra, white rhino, and water buffalo were all clearly visible from the comfort and safety of our cars, huddling under trees or nonchalantly shrugging off the weather. We could have spent the rest of the afternoon getting lost in a vast maze, riding on a small train or visiting the hippos, sea lions and gorilla island by boat, but were rather beaten back by the weather.
It wasn’t until the next day, when the sunshine started to reappear, that we took off into the gloriously peaceful countryside, whose same chalky hills are dotted with no fewer than eight ‘white horses’ etched into their inclines. One of the best examples is the 17th century horse cut into the hillside just below the Iron Age fort of Bratton Camp, overlooking the small town of Westbury. Best viewed from a distance or, better still, from the air, one wonders what our ancestors must have been thinking when they went to all that trouble. After all this is the UFO triangle, noted for its strange sightings in the sky. Were the horses simply landmarks for the benefit of those miles away, or, as some believe, messages to those from even further afield? The mind boggles. Talking of activity in the sky, the most inspirational sight for me over the entire weekend was that of the paragliders who soared like huge, colourful eagles in the updrafts off the hill above the white horse at Westbury. If anything would make me want to take up the sport, this was it. Judging by the large numbers of thrill seekers stepping off the edge with only a kite-like piece of material strung from their shoulders, it must be a great feeling. As I watched, in admiration and awe, I couldn’t help but wonder what the creators of these chalky monuments would think if they could look skywards now to see these dozens of flying apparitions. I can’t help feeling that they would think that their ‘messages’ had been answered. |
Salisbury Cathedral’s spire – the tallest in England – is, of course, visible for miles around. Yet it was the intrusive voice of an American woman which was drawing the most attention. 
We’d not come to Wiltshire just for culture and countryside, but because our two girls had heard about the famous lions of Longleat from their big brother. My son is now in his twenties, but the everlasting impression he has of his last visit, aged three, is of a monkey ripping a neat little square in the vinyl roof of the car that we had at the time.
Photos © Robin Weaver except 'lion' courtesy of Longleat
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