I’ve driven through Surrey many times, to London, Heathrow Airport,
Gatwick Airport or to the channel tunnel, rarely have I stopped there. I wasn’t
overly sure what to expect once I strayed off the crowded motorways spreading
like a web from London. Surrey isn’t bustling with tourist attractions, the
wealthy residents living in their bespoke gated mansions probably wouldn’t warm
to coach loads of tourists infesting their villages after all. It’s these busy
roads and trains that I’ve used many times that make Surrey one of the most
expensive places to live in the country, in fact it has the highest GDP of any
county with wealthy commuters taking advantage of the proximity to the city and
green countryside.
I decided to pull into a motorway service station and seek inspiration
from the brochure rack. It was underwhelming. There were vast selections of
attractions in neighbouring areas but only one leaflet for Surrey. Well I say
one leaflet; actually it was about a thousand of the same leaflet taking up two
racks. The leaflet was for National Trust properties in the county. This did
seem promising, the National Trust has many interesting historical sites open
to the public and I conveniently had a membership card, perhaps I was in luck.
Alas, the leaflet was next to useless. It helpfully listed the addresses
for numerous sites but failed entirely to describe or detail anything about
them. It was left entirely to guesswork to figure out what was at these
locations, were they elaborate mansions, gardens or merely muddy car parks? Who
knew?
I just plumped for an address that looked vaguely central and hopes for
the best. At very least I could look out for diversions along the way. I didn’t
have far to travel until the first diversion emerged.
No sooner had I left the motorway I started to see tourist signs
pointing towards a vineyard. I was aware of British wines but somehow it hadn’t
connected in my mind that therefore there would be vineyards tucked away
amongst the English hills, sun drenched French valleys are more what spring to
mind.
Turning off the road into the vineyard’s car park ‘sun drenched’
certainly wasn’t the best way to describe the place. The sky was building with
ominous clouds and the bare vines marched in rows over the sodden fields. A
large visitor’s centre had been set up, although I was one of only half a dozen
visitors this day. The inside was given over to a sparse information board with
rudimentary information on wine production and a large shop selling overpriced
tat. Central to this sat a large glass roofed atrium with a side room selling
bottles of wine. I really didn’t want to spend my life savings on paperback
listing grape varieties nor did I want to take out a mortgage to buy a souvenir
so I retreated to the car. Inexplicably the car park was decorated by two
life-size colourful statues of cows. I never found an explanation for this.
Back on the road the sat-nav was insistent on routing me via the
motorway so I ditched it and just meandered along the back roads. The motorway
is a bland affair, monotonous trees & soundproof fencing for mile after
mile. As is so often the case by simply taking the back roads and allowing
yourself to get lost you are rewarded with some gems.
The countryside here is liberally scattered with charming well kept
villages. Old cottages with well kept gardens and rambling old inns nestled
amongst the trees in settlements brimming with character. The tea shops &
antique stores here were all well beyond my meagre budget but window shopping
is free so I enjoyed a slow paced afternoon moseying about these back
lanes.
To end the day I decided to make the effort to actually find the
National Trust location I’d selected earlier. The road led me up into the
woodlands to a small car park. It transpired that this was indeed one of those
National Trust places that just involved a muddy car park and some woodland
walks. I was pleased I’d not pegged all my hopes on this location however it
was still worth exploring. The woodlands were pleasant but unremarkable; the place
really came to life upon exiting the trees. From this hilltop the whole county
opened up ahead, the view over the gentle landscape bathed in the low suns last
rays. It was a very pleasant way to end my day in Surrey. The county had
welcomed me with low expectations but left me with wanting more. Yet again I
was leaving a county far too soon.
< Part 9 Part 11 >
