It is not the best conditions for walking Cheddar Gorge. Heavy downpours have left the ground soggy. The rain has mostly drifted away, but the sky remains grey and moody. It has sucked all the colour from the landscape, desaturating its vibrant hues. But we’ve pitched camp at nearby Petruth Paddocks (excellent facilities and with a friendly, relaxed vibe) in order to explore the surrounding countryside, including Cheddar Gorge, so here we are.
Initial impressions are that Cheddar’s town centre and the part of it which is strung out along the entrance to the gorge have contrasting personalities. Where the centre has the laid-back charm of a typical small Somerset town, the gorge side of town has that popular tourist attraction vibe. Even early morning it is considerably busier and already starting to fill with day-trippers. While the approach is picturesque, with quaint little cafés and shops selling cider and, of course, cheese (this has got to be one of Wallace and Gromit’s favourite holiday destinations), there are anomalies. A large cocktail bar looks as though it has been shipped in from a sun and sand holiday resort in the Med. It looks out of place in such a scenic beauty spot.
Venturing deeper into the gorge, anticipation heightens as we get our first proper sight of the craggy limestone walls rising vertically from the ravine floor. Even with the houses strung along its base, there is a primeval air about it, making it both slightly intimidating and enticing at the same time.
Cheddar Gorge
At three miles long and nearly four hundred feet (122m) deep, it is the largest gorge in England. A stunning scar on the landscape, carved out by glacial meltwater over the course of a million years, the probing water eventually heading underground to create the famous caves that draw around 400,000 people a year, 80% of all visitors to Cheddar Gorge. We plan to visit the caves another time. Today we’re here purely to walk the gorge.
Walking Cheddar Gorge
Although we have an OS Map, we pop into the Visitor Information Centre and buy a Cheddar Walking Map which has directions for a circular route running along one side of the gorge and returning by the other. It is a total of 5.5km. The directions also advise that the route is hard and strenuous in parts.
They’ve got that right. The path starts diagonally opposite the centre, immediately climbing past Cufic Cottage. While the street below is starting to fill with visitors, few of them venture upward. It is the same with just about every popular tourist attraction we’ve visited anywhere. The more effort required, the fewer people there are. And effort is required. Even though the steepest stretch is over the first kilometre (rising 150m), ending when we emerge onto a sloping plateau where the view opens up, the path continues to ascend for over another kilometre, most of the north side of the gorge in fact, before it plunges to the gorge floor.
On a clear day the view must be a jaw dropper, because even on a dreich and dreary one it is impressive. Emerging from the trees, we are faced with the rugged rim of the southern side of Cheddar Gorge, the sharp scar in the earth between the two barely noticeable. To the west, we can see the town nestled into the V where the two sides of the gorge converge. Beyond is a misty, sprawling green plain, the Somerset Levels, stretching toward the Bristol Channel, which we have no chance of spotting on such a glum day. Even nearby Glastonbury Tor is a faded, hazy splinter atop an indistinct semi-circular island. It is a diluted view, yet it is tantalising enough to have us vowing to return when the weather is more accommodating.
Winding our way across the top of the gorge, something occurs to us. While the views across Somerset may be stunning (an educated guess given the conditions), there is little sense of the beauty and uniqueness of the gorge itself. Basically, the ridge might not be the ideal place to enjoy the best of Cheddar Gorge.
As the route descends steeply on slippery and potentially treacherous scree we decide two things. The first is, next time we shall bring our walking poles – they’d have helped make the descent more controlled and cut out some involuntary dry-stone skiing. The second is, we agree to deviate from the route directions and return via the gorge floor instead. The rationale being we’re here to experience Cheddar Gorge and, although perfectly pleasant, we’re not getting that on the ridge.
Within minutes of turning west between limestone cliff walls which feel as though they are closing in on us, we know we made the right decision. It is incredible, a breath stealer, unexpected. There’s something magical and powerful about the impenetrable rock walls tinged with green which hem us in. It is vaguely unsettling, something no doubt which convinced Danny Boyle to use Cheddar Gorge as a location for 28 Years Later. There’s also something rather exotic about the scenery. Maybe that’s because it reminds me a bit of Krabi in Thailand.
Adding further interest are the gorge’s feral goats, precariously perched on rocky outcrops on the northern side. As the narrow road serpentines through the gorge, there are a lot of blind corners. Care is required, especially as there is only an intermittent path which criss-crosses the road, disappearing for long stretches.
Apart from the occasional car, we have the gorge mostly to ourselves. That is until we draw close to the bigger car parks near the entrance, the increased volume of people a sure sign our route is approaching its end.
Despite the indifferent weather, what we’ve seen on Cheddar Gorge has been enough to make us want to return and have a mooch around the southern side. It is every bit as good as we hoped.
Total distance: 5.8km. Ascent/descent 620m
