Allie Goes Global

Well, it’s been a while since I added anything to this blog. Why might that be? I’ve been traveling, of course! Which is great, but also means that I’m now about four trips behind on documenting anything. Such is life.

So let’s dive in. This was technically my second day in Cambridge, but I didn’t really have any interest in going back into the main part of town. There was also the factor that this was my last day before I arrived in London, and I knew that was going to be a whirlwind, so I wanted to do something a little more relaxing. Which brings us to Wimpole Estate.

Wimpole Estate is a huge National Trust property about 8 miles southwest of Cambridge. The grounds are incredible, with a hedge maze, a folly, a working farm, a church, and a graveyard, but the big draw is the house itself, Wimpole Hall. The hall has a long and storied history, which I won’t do justice to here. A couple of interesting points: it was visited by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert in 1843, and the final owner of the house was Elsie Bambridge, daughter of Rudyard Kipling.

As per usual, we must start out with the experience of driving to the house. I followed Google Maps, rather than the signage that told me where to turn to reach the house. This proved to be a mistake. Google sent me in what I believe was a more direct route. However, it was also a one-lane dirt road, which had turned to a complete mud pit, and had an aggressive number of potholes. I didn’t even know I had done something wrong until I reached the entrance to the parking area, and saw that if I had come from the opposite direction, I could have enjoyed a nice paved road. Live and learn, I guess. This was also my final day with the rental car. Since I hadn’t managed to damage it yet, I was on high alert, trying to finish out the home stretch without too much chaos.

I arrived at the estate and parked a surprising distance away. Again, I still hadn’t comprehended that all the kids were on a school break, so I was shocked to discover that I had to park in the furthest possible lot. After paying the entrance fee (£18 per adult), I began the trek to the house. It’s important to note that the overall property is very large (3,000 acres), and I barely scratched the surface of what was available. There are long hiking/walking paths snaking all over the extensive grounds, and I passed quite a few people who were clearly there for just that purpose. I was, however, not, so I headed straight for the house, passing the church and graveyard along the way.

Wimpole House is beautiful, in that “old country house” way. It is comprised of three floors, including the basement. There are grand dining rooms, an incredible library, several galleries, bedrooms, and a two-story plunge pool.

The basement was actually the most interesting to me, as this is where the management of the household took place. There was housing for the people who worked in the household, along with a butler’s pantry for all the China and silver. The spice pantry was a delight, and I could have spent ages just looking at all of the dedicated containers and being jealous of the level of organization I’ll never achieve.

After leaving the house, I began the trek to the farm. As I left the house, I passed through the gardens. Given that I was there in February, everything was kind of brown and dead. However, I’ve seen pictures of it during the summer, and it’s beautiful. Just a hazard of being there at the wrong time.

Now, it has been months since I was there, but as I recall, it was about a fifteen minute walk from the house to the farm. The paths are well-marked, but not paved, so it was pretty muddy in areas. That being said, it was a lovely walk through the trees. There were lots of birds and squirrels roaming around, and I enjoyed watching them.

The farm is, as I mentioned, still a working farm, so I tried not to think too much about that as I entered the first enclosure. This one was full of pigs, and to my eyes, they seemed very well cared for. At one point, I heard people suddenly exclaiming with delight, and I turned around to see this:

The rest of the farm had a variety of animals. There were giant draft horses who would only show me their back end, a good number of chickens, a couple of goats, and some rabbits. I do understand why this is a place that people would take their children. I, being basically a child, also had a nice time looking at all the animals.

At this point, I trekked out of the estate and back to my car. It is worth noting here, I am somewhere between excessively paranoid and an idiot. I say this because when I left the property, I turned and went back the way that I had come, rather than taking the nice paved road. This is because I knew for a fact where that road came out and how to get back to my hotel. I did NOT know for sure where the nice paved road went. I hit the same pothole on the way out as I did on the way in, and somehow managed not to pop my tire. Small miracles.

Next up, London!