Christmas at Ritty Farm

Leaving behind all the cares of home in Cambridgeshire, we set off for wildest Herefordshire in high spirits. The trip took us about 4 hours plus a stop or two on the way and so it was dark when we wound around miles of narrow hedged-in lanes to the tiny village of Michaelchurch Escley. From there we made several stops along the final stretch while I got out of the car with a torch to read any signs that might give us a clue how near we were to our final destination at Ritty Farm.

Turning off the lane we descended a farm track to a stream with a narrow bridge and then onwards up the other side of the valley to the cottage. My first thought was that we might need a 4x4 vehicle to get back out, but the need never arose. If it had snowed (as we hoped it might) we might have been in trouble. Even so, as long as we had food and drink, it would have been a Christmas to remember, possibly a Happy New Year too.

The cottage itself is what I would call a classic little Welsh stone farm-house with a porch and footpath leading up to it. Inside we found it to be warm and cosy with a lot of features reminiscent of my Gran’s cottage in Swaledale, including a big fireplace and a drying rack. I particularly liked some of the pictures on the walls, especially a huge black and white hand-made print of a salmon.

Whenever we rent a cottage we order a delivery from Sainsbury’s, but it’s always a bit of touch-and-go to see if we can get there before the van arrives. This time we were well ahead so our son Dan kept opening the door to look for his dinner. Fortunately, the delivery man knew exactly where he was and we had most of the food and booze required for a Christmas stay. The final ingredients would be ready for collection in Hereford at the last minute.

Soon after dawn the next day we had a chance to take in our surroundings. I had imagined a place on a hillside close to the Black Mountains and Hay Bluff with great views and, hopefully, some wildlife. That’s just what we found. I love Herefordshire but I get really nostalgic when I get close to the border with Wales because I used to explore the area on a Lambretta scooter while living in Newport in Gwent during my teens. On a Sunday I might ride up the Usk to the Beacons or into Crickhowell, on to the Black Mountains and then down to the Wye Valley for a quick way home. The outlines of the hills are etched into my memory.

Another tradition, besides ordering food for ourselves, is to get hold of some bird food and feeders if required. I scattered a liberal amount of seed along the kitchen wall and had an instant response from blue tits, great tits and nuthatches. The tits were not so much of a surprise except there was an awful lot of them, but the nuthatches were special for me as they have almost disappeared from where I live. By the second day we had built up quite a following with coal tits, chaffinches and a few sparrows joining in. Bigger birds included a resident cock pheasant, a jay, crows, green and great-spotted woodpeckers, blackbirds and a mistle thrush that held sway over the lower part of the garden where there was a spectacular spread of holly and mistletoe. Flying overhead there was often a kite or a buzzard and I heard ravens cronking somewhere out in the fog one morning. During the week I saw 25 species of birds in the garden area or overhead, and added a few more on the drive over to Hay-on-Wye where we also saw roe deer.

The Ritty provided a great base for us to explore by foot or by car. We loved discovering Longtown with its castle and brilliant local store. The drive to Hereford where our son lives often took 40 minutes with traffic jams adding to that time as there is only one bridge across the river into the city: quite a contrast with life out on the hills where we met very little traffic. We learned to avoid going into the city and meet up elsewhere.

I think it was one of the best Christmases we have ever had, especially since we got to meet up with some of our scattered family while we were there.