After all this time, I can’t remember why we were so late setting off on our journey to the Forest of Dean, but we were – and we seemed to get later as the journey went on. As it was September, this meant that it was pitch-black dark by the time we got there – and seemed even darker with all the big trees alongside the unlit road.
Luckily our car had good headlights and so we could see where we were going. And we could also see some of the wildlife that liked to be out in the early evening, including two beautiful foxes sauntering down the side of the road.
I was hoping we might also see a bear or two, as I know some of my relations like to live in woods, but I was out of luck that night.
Our destination was the Whitemead Forest Park, a collection of self-catering lodges in the village of Parkend. Luckily it was easy to find and soon we’d booked in and been given the keys for the lodge that was to going to be ours for the weekend.
Built of wood and with two bedrooms, a dining-kitchen, a lounge area and a bathroom all on one floor and no steps at the front door, it was ideal for us – and we could even park on a grassy area right by the door and so didn’t have to carry our luggage very far.
We spent the evening catching up with old friends over a meal, before going back to the lodge for a cup of tea and biscuits and then going to bed. When we got up the next morning and opened the curtains in the lounge area, however, we got a real surprise. Instead of looking on to another open grassy area like the one at the front, we were looking out onto a small lake with trees at the far end – and, better still, we had a veranda which jutted out over the water.
Me and Mum went out to have a proper look and, as it was quite early in the morning – and a bit sultry as well – there was still some mist lingering over the water and among the reeds, so that it looked more like a tropical rain forest than anywhere in England. In fact, I half-expected to see an alligator or two swimming around and, though I sat on top of the fence to get a better view, I made sure Mum was holding me very tightly so I didn’t fall off.
Then, after a quick cup of tea, we went to join everyone else for breakfast, before Mum’s partner went in to the conference. At that point, me and Mum decided we’d go for a little wander round the village of Parkend and come back in time to join everyone else for coffee at eleven o’clock.
But we’d hardly got as far as the entrance to the holiday park when there was a rumble of thunder in the distance and we went scuttling back to our lodge as fast as our legs would take us…
Once we were safely back inside, I asked Mum to tell me a bit more about the Forest of Dean, as I didn’t know much about it other than the fact that there were a lot of big trees there and it seemed like a nice place to go for a quiet holiday.
But, to my surprise, she said that although the trees had been there for many centuries, the Forest hadn’t always been a holiday attraction like it is now. Instead, it had been a mining and industrial centre for at least 4500 years.
Evidence for this had been found at nearby Clearwell Caves, whose mining history group had organised that year’s NAMHO conference. Iron ore and ochre had been mined there since at least 2500 BC, and, although large-scale iron mining stopped in 1945, the owners still produce some ochre which is used in various pigments.
Clearwell Caves are open to the public and are made up of six interconnected iron mines, covering an area of 230 acres/93 hectares and going down to almost 600 feet/180 metres, though sadly we didn’t have enough time to visit them.
Then Mum told me that, as well as iron and ochre, coal had been mined in the Forest of Dean since early times, and some was still mined today. She also told me that, because miners from the Hundred of St Briavels in the Forest of Dean helped Edward I of England at the siege of Berwick-on-Tweed (which was then in Scotland) in 1296 by undermining the town’s defences, the king granted free mining rights within the forest to them and their descendants. She added that these rights continue to the present day, but are now mainly used for mining coal for the local market.
By the time she’d finished telling me all that, the storm had passed and we were ready to have our coffee and rejoin the conference, listening to lectures and talking with friends in between. The time went quickly and, as we left for home on Sunday afternoon, plans were already being made for the 2021 NAMHO conference which was going to take place in Ireland.
Before that, however, me and Mum would experience a time of much sadness and a time of massive anxiety. We’d also welcome an unexpected new member to our family – and have more adventures, great and small. The first of these was to the Christmas markets in Metz, which we’d had to postpone in 1998 and which I’ll start telling you about in my next post. Meanwhile, take care and stay safe and look out for some more tales from me soon!
Follow my next blog: 249. MY MUM THE STORY-TELLER – PART ONE HUNDRED AND TWENY-SIX
09/03/2023
Wilf the bear-faced blogger 