The Three Castles Path - Day 4

 On Saturday 21^st March 2026, my hiking buddy, Michala, and I parked up at the village hall in Ellisfield, making a small donation in return for a parking space for the day.  Our goal on this day was to walk from Ellisfield to Itchen Abbas.  This time we had two cars. Having parked one car in Itchen Abbas, we were ready for our 4^th day along the Three Castles Path.

A Fine Spring Morn

As we set out on this bright sunny morn, it looked like the path might be busy on this, the second day of spring. 

On leaving the gravel car park we encountered a group of gentlemen walking down the road in single file.  On day 2 of our walk along the TCP we had talked about the rarity of seeing men out together walking whereas women are a common sight. So this was good to see, however, the only problem is that these males were of the feathered type. 

They were like a group of males gathering and chatting before going in search of some female company.  I suspect that these male ducks were in their eclipse plumage, not yet donning their more attractive colours ready for mating.  If you look closely some of them had a fluff of feathers emerging on top of their head like a crown.  They might have been brown crested ducks or the top knot could be due to a deformity in the skull where a hole is filled with fatty tissue which then causes a crest like growth.  If you know more, please do tell.  I prefer to think the former. 

Then, turning left onto the road we encountered two dog walkers.  Everyone seemed to have the same idea as us – getting out to enjoy the spring sunshine.

We turned right off the road to walk up alongside fields of stubble and last year’s crops, the yellowed ground almost glowing in the bright sunshine. 

A Traveller’s Joy

Turning into Kit Lane, we encountered another couple out early and then we found the mud.  It was a bit unexpected considering how dry it had been during the week. But nothing was going to stop us as we enjoyed walking through these beautiful tunnels. 

Much of the colour was provided by tangles of holly but in a matter of weeks this landscape will be transformed as the trees come into leaf.  For the moment, many of the trees are still very bare but for the fluff of Old Man’s Beard, the seed heads of wild clematis.  

When Michala checked the identity with Siri he claimed it was Travellers’ Joy but we have a different Travellers’ Joy.  There seemed no better excuse to pull out a packet for our first chunky bite of rich buttery shortbread.     What a joy.  A travellers’ joy.

We continuted for about 3 miles along delightful pathways, threading our way along tree lined paths, through copses, across open fields and down stoney tracks.  It was all unmanicured heaven. 

We Are Going on a Bear Hunt

The variety of paths put us in mind of Michael Rosen and Helen Oxenbury’s ‘We are going on a Bear Hunt’.   Tip toe, stumble trip, squelch squerch, splash splosh, swishy swashy.  However, we would see no bears today.  If we were going to see any big googly eyes it would be that of the two month old Samba the capybara who, having escaped Marwell Zoo in the last week, was perhaps looking to follow the ancient paths walked by Saxon kings to find her way back to Suffolk where she was before being moved to Marwell.

By now we saw not a soul other than plenty of pheasants and partridges.  We delighted in the call of woodpigeons and chiff-chaffs, the chorus of blackbird, song thrush, robin and dunnock. Occasionally we would just stop, stand still and listen.  Sheer magic.

Stopping for Fuel

When we arrived at Bradley, we decided to take a detour up to the Grade II listed building that is All Saints Church.  The flint stone church looked beautiful beside the sunshine yellow of forsythia.   It was still relatively early but it was such a pretty spot we decided to take advantage of the bench and have a nibble of our lunch.  We always like to have two lunch stops to ensure we keep fuelling. 

Then following the path around the village pond, we climbed along a daffodil lined path with a bank of sycamore trees, beautiful in their nakedness.

Enraptured by the views of Preston Down and the valley below we nearly missed a left turning to take us across a field towards Park Copse but fortunately I saved the day, spotting the path at the last minute. (Note for Rich). 

Wildflowers and Butterflies

The edge of Park Copse was lined by banks of wildflowers with pretty primroses and violets. Multiple bright yellow male brimstone butterflies flitted between the flowers. Did you know that it is thought that the name butterfly originates from the yellow buttery colour of the brimstone?  (Talking of butter, was it time for another piece of buttery shortbread? Why not!)

On the floor of the copses we found dainty wood anemones and in the meadows we found cowslips.    We passed by an extensive farmhouse, Nicolas Farm, dwarfed by splendid tall silver birches. 

From Lower Wield we followed a hedge-lined path and then walked through a field of sheep who barely took notice of us as they lazed in the sun.  But there was no chance for us to laze as we found ourselves trudging across a ploughed field with no sign of a path but the guidebook was clear, as were the OS maps, so we forged our way across.  It proved to be quite a workout as the sun beat down on us on this deceptively warm day. 

In the village, Upper Wield, Michala shared refreshing strips of mango and we made sure to hydrate in the hot sunshine.  We took a walk around the old school house (now the village hall) to find an outside tap where we were able to fill up with fresh drinking water.  Further on we walked around St James Church but unfortunately the church was locked which was a shame as our guidebook informed us of many items of historical interest within the church. 

We walked through the church yard and out the other side to follow what would have been part of King John’s hunting ground and as if on cue, a deer appeared on the edge of the woodland. 

We continued, ascending and then descending.  Over time it began to feel quite hard perhaps because the sun was always shining in our eyes, as all along the way we headed south, straight into the sun.  Much of the way we had to bow our heads so as not be blinded by the bright rays. 

From our unmanicured paths we looked down on the manicured landscaped garden of Park House below Barton Copse. 

Old Dears

In the fields we saw a scull which felt a little sinister.  However we believed that scull was of a deer and not one of us - old dears. We were getting tired and we reckoned we still had about 6 miles to go.  The limited shade and the dazzling light was exhausting.  I foolishly was wearing thermal leggings under my walking trousers in response to a forecast of 0ºC first thing in the morning. 

We found a very worn and batter bench on which to sit.  I do not think I have ever been so grateful to sit down.  We sat and drank in the view of birds swooping and diving over the ploughed fields. 

It was just enough to give us time to regroup and bolster each other with words of encouragement.  From there we completed our climb to the top of Bugmore Hill, peeping through a gate to see the trig point just above.  It was not until the next day that I realised just how undulating the walk had been with so many ascents and descents.  This was the hilliest section of the entire walk from Windsor to Winchester.  Our next section, in two weeks’ time, would be pretty much downhill all the way.

We overlapped with the Wayfarers Walk and the Oxdrove Way, as we walked down Spybush Lane, spying pheasants as they tiptoped through the fields.

Oliver's Battery

Then up another hill and down again, we arrived at Abbotstone Down and the ancient settlement of Oliver’s battery, with signs of earthworks created by man and beast.

The earthworks here date back to 43D when the Romans built a look-out whilst constructing two Roman roads  - the Winchester to Old Sarum and Winchester to Bittern.   In 1932, a shallow Saxon grave was discovered with a beautiful gilded bowl decorated with silver escutcheons. Until recently the bowl was housed in the British Museum but now it is in its rightful place at Winchester Museum  which we may well visit when we arrive in Winchester.  

However the name 'Oliver's Battery' is said to be attributed to Oliver Cromwell.  During the Civil War the troops withdrew from Winchester to camp here during  the siege of Winchester. A mass burial ground was discovered with possibly the victims of a skirmish between Roundheads and Cavaliers.  

Along the paths the hedgerows were filled with the frothy blossoms of blackthorn. 

Now in open fields we walked past a large ruin with a tree growing up in the middle.  I found some black sheeting inside the building so I contemplated curling up for a nap but Michala produced here trusty packet of shortbread to give me a much needed sugar boost followed by words of encouragement. 

The Golden Hour

The sun was getting low in the sky so it was important that we kept going.  We lingered briefly in the small hamlet of Abbotstone admiring the stream with perhaps a hint of watercress in patches.   I very much hoped we might see more in our next leg. It was here that we encountered the first lot of people since the jogger and their dog in the morning.

With the sun low, insects were swarming to provide the birds with a last bit for supper.  The bird song seemed to have increased as they sang for their supper.  

I momentarily considered phoning my brother in Winchester to ask him to pick us up and take us to our car.  There was a mental battle going on in my head.  Would we feel we had failed?  So it was that we pushed on.  Pushing through the pain, eyes smarting with the low lying sun and too warm in my thermals.

We were climbing again, this time up to Itchen Stoke Down but our pace was good and seeing the finger post with the Three Castles Path felt like winning a medal.  We were doing well and made of better stuff than we gave ourselves credit. Though it does look like I was trying to thumb a lift whilst Michala was pointing the way forward.

It was a beautiful time to be out walking as the sunlight turned golden, casting starbursts through the naked hedgerows. 

Arriving at Itchen Abbas, the end seemed nigh.  Google maps showed my car a mere 2 minutes drive away but on foot the walk dog legged along the course of the old railway above the village. 

The light was fading fast. Just as we were leaving the wooded area we spotted some beautiful banks of primroses.  Thankfully Michala pushed me to stop and take a photo for which I am grateful. 

As we finished this section of the walk, the light had truly faded.  It must have been some kind of magic or witchcraft that drove us to our end point.  We had done it and we felt extremely proud as we let out a groan, lowering ourselves into the car to drive back to Ellisfield where Michala would pickup her car. 

What a day and what a walk.  My shin splints tell me that perhaps we should not have attempted to walk so far. This was a 16.39 mile walk – so not as far as the previous day but the difference was the amount of climbing involved.  The hills were not particularly steep.  The ascents were subtle but climb we most certainly did. 

We have two weeks respite before we take on the final leg which should be a stroll by comparison.