Thursday, August 8, 2013

A Gypsy Caravan Weekend

 

A red 1930's gypsy caravan, a donkey, a horse, glorious sunshine and rolling green Dorset hills.
Sounds like the setting for a few magical days away.
Long, long, long have I wanted to stay in a gypsy caravan as anyone who knows me would be bored to death hearing about.
For obvious reasons (Australia is in no way attached to Europe) there is a sad lack of these colourful little homes on wheels in Australia.
In fact the only time I have ever seen one, was on my birthday one year. A friend had taken me out fort a pamper and as we walked back to my car,  we saw a green gypsy caravan was parked in front of it. On a suburban street. Like it happens all the time. Of course I threw my arms around my friend and said "Oh my God! Thank you!"
 I was so excited by the sight of this old world vardo sitting in the middle of the burbs, I thought nothing of asking the owner, a travelling missionary of all things, to let me sit up front for a photo and I....but sorry, I digress.
So, having never been properly inside one (for fear of conversion) and living now in the UK- a place littered with the things- it was only a matter of time before me, and my idea of a Barbie dream house, should meet.

 
A wonderful hodge-podge of things English and vintage, the Old Forge is a B & B near Shaftesbury, Dorset. The place offers various types of retro accommodation- a cottage conversion of the actual Old Forge (cook your toast in the forge pit and butter in on the anvil perhaps), a few Vintage gem rooms in the main house, and both a genuine gypsy caravan AND a shepherds hut. This was my kind of playground! Add chickens, labradoodles and a sweet young horse called Lily and her donkey mate, the incorrigible  Scrumpy Jack, and you have a recipe for really lovely little holiday.



My husband Fil with Pie, Willow and Pudding

I won't say the Glamping word, but lets just say if a holiday somewhere a bit yesteryear and very cozy with a top notch brekky thrown in, is your idea of fun- then saddle your Morris Minor and head to The Old Forge.
Rosie's lovely original interior
The inside of Rosie the gypsy van is all original paintwork and fitted cupboards which is amazing when you consider she is about 80 years old. I am told she would have been pulled by a steam engine, which is a bit less romantic than a gypsy cob unless you are a Puff Buff or a Steampunk fan, but resting in retirement in a field as she currently is, is makes her no less dreamy in appearance, inside and out.

Fil and Scrumpy Jack
















Now, I will say there was a certain amount of amusement in having a 6 foot 2 man sleep in a six foot bed, but the whole darn box bed was so cozy and comfortable that sleeping diagonally was a novelty that was certainly bearable for two nights.

Our view looking over toward Sam the Shepherd's Hut

The Old Forge is next door to a village called Fontmell Magna (which I think sound like a sort of melted cheese toastie-yum!) whose sign boasts like a discreet cough  as you enter the place,  that it is the best-kept village in Dorset. Stone thatch cottages, lovely gardens and a mill stream, it is indeed, not too shabby a place.

The Fontmell

 To be honest, however we are only really interested in the rumoured good pub, The Fontmell. Perched literally over a stream, this pub has a lovely renovation inside, all light and babbling brook, creating a sylvan sort of peace in the restaurant area .The meal we enjoy is both delicious and very reasonable priced. The outdoor beer garden is quite a nice spot too for a lazy afternoon cider.

Of course being so close to Shaftesbury, we have a great day exploring the town, which has a stunning view over surrounding countryside.
 

Shaftesbury Abbey ruins


 Shaftesbury Abbey ruins are very worth your parting with a few gold coins to see. Set in a picturesque garden, the ruins are laid out over the ground in a manner that you can feel, as you listen to your audio guide, what it might have been once to stand in the place. Of course your heart breaks a little for those distant nuns as Henry the 8th's followers tore it down for capital to pay his debts and fund his wars. Bastard!

Gold Hill, Shaftesbury

You can't visit Shaftesbury without viewing famous Goldhill. In fact we walked down it,  pleased as punch we were not there to contest in the cheese wheel run that happens every year,  up the steep cobbled hill. While the view is terribly picturesque in that spot, I have to say walking along the promenade near the abbey is also glorious. We also headed down for a wander round the pretty lower streets and alleys.

 
 
Shaftesbury is an interesting town of everyday and gourmet. We found a great little vegetarian café down a back street, who epitomised 'slow food' in time taken and great tasting.
After two relaxing evenings beside Rosie, playing Scrabble with a few glasses of wine until dark, it is time to leave Dorset.

 
 Before we do, we pop over to Wiltshire to check out Stourhead, a National Trust property I have drooled over pictures of, but never seen. Owned and built by London's only family owned bank, Stourhead house is  Regency property quite gob-smacking if you like glitz and pomp.

The house at Stourhead
The house has  enough portraits to suggest there was nothing more fun to do in that time ("lets see, cross stitch or another portrait today...a portrait it is!"), but it is the gardens that I came to see, with it's magnificent lake playing mirror to follies of classic temples and mystical grottoes. All this is fringed with exotic trees and lawns and meandering paths that of course changes magically with the seasons.


We spent half a day there, enjoying the views from every side of the lake. It's the  kind of place you sigh with happiness at visiting and look expansively at the people you dragged there, as though showing off a national treasure you yourself were privileged enough to own a key to.


 But perhaps that's just me...
Ahh, what a lovely couple of days we had. Villages, country views, gypsy caravans, woods, fine homes, gorgeous gardens and great local cuisine.
I went home feeling like a woman who had just enjoyed a very fine platter of British culture....and was already piggishly wanting more.