Way, way back in the 50's when in primary school, I treasured my uncle Kevin's History Book and in particular the chapters about the Angles, Saxons and Jutes. Almost everyone knows about the Angles and Saxons but what about the Jutes. The Jutes were just as significant as the other two Germanic peoples of the Nordic Iron Age who invaded/settled in England. Oh Lord, that reminds me, they ended up naming the country after the Angles. They might just have called it New Jutland (Jutland is part of Denmark where my royal family live).

But I digress …. again. The Jutes largely settled in the area now known as The New Forest. It's been The New Forest since around 1079 in William the Conqueror's time. Even though only declared a national park in the last 20 years or so, they might have named it The Old New Forest. After the Ice Age, it was repopulated with a forest and sections were cleared for farming. The soil being so poor, farming was abandoned and the cleared land didn't regenerate and became heathland. When we drove through there several days ago, it was largely covered in heather which was in flower. Not as bright as in North Yorkshire.

The descendants of the Jutes had established around 20 small hamlets, however as William wanted somewhere to hunt, he had them evicted and declared the area "The New Forest".

Gotta love this:

"In this County [Hantshire] is New-Forest, formerly called Ytene, being about 30 miles in compass; in which said tract William the Conqueror (for the making of the said Forest a harbour for Wild-beasts for his Game) caused 36 Parish Churches, with all the Houses thereto belonging, to be pulled down, and the poor Inhabitants left succourless of house or home. But this wicked act did not long go unpunished, for his Sons felt the smart thereof; Richard being blasted with a pestilent Air; Rufus shot through with an Arrow; and Henry his Grand-child, by Robert his eldest son, as he pursued his Game, was hanged among the boughs, and so dyed. This Forest at present affordeth great variety of Game, where his Majesty oft-times withdraws himself for his divertisement."

Anyway … to confuse matters, even though the locals were evicted, they still had "Common Right" to the land … I'm not going to explain … which means that they couldn't fence, however they could graze their stock …. Which means that today, stock can just wander anywhere it likes in The New Forest.

We set out on Monday to visit a couple of towns/villages in The New Forest: Beaulieu and Lymington. Drew had told us about encountering stock on the roads in Burley however he was under the impression that it was unique to there. No. There could be stock anywhere.

Beaulieu had attracted my attention because apart from an unspoiled little village there is Palace House, which overlooks the village from across Beaulieu River. It was began in 1204 as the gatehouse to Beaulieu Abbey, and has been the ancestral home of a branch of the Montagu family since 1538, when it was bought from the Crown following the Dissolution of the Monasteries by Henry VIII.

The house was extended in the 16th century, and again in the 19th century, and is today a fine example of a Gothic country house and still home to the current Lord and Lady Montagu.

I asked Tom to take us to the "Centre of Town" as I always do for every destination. He wasn't too happy when, on seeing a sign to the House and Abbey Ruins, I took the turn and parked in one of many carparks. Many already full at 10.30 … not a good sign. The place was heaving with families all drawn to the National Motor Museum. Sorry Mike (and other motoring enthusiasts) but at $AUD40.00 each admission … not in this lifetime.

We retreated to the car and drove into town which satisfied Tom and us. As we swung around a bend, and the forest immediately ceased at the edge of the lake, we could see the village across the water and cattle, horses and donkeys everywhere. So pretty and Ches went into raptures at all the stock standing around on the roads and verges. It's almost as though they know the control they exercise and flaunt it. The foal says, "Hey mom, I'm hungry", and she replies, "OK, just wait until I get into the middle of this road and then you can suckle"

We found a pay and display carpark with a broken ticket machine …. Bonus, free parking (might have been a first). Ches made a bee line for the animals and we spent an hour wandering around town. Young families were so excited to pat and feed the animals that we witnessed one horse terrifying a young girl trying to grab bags out of her and her mother's arms. With us it was more of a case of "what were you thinking, you haven't brought any food?" and they tried to chew Ches's palm.

We had the usual creamed tea in the old bakery. I'm really tiring of creamed tea, and hope Ches gets sick of them soon. The baker's ovens are still in place, and I could understand how my GGrandfather's bakery in Maryborough worked after seeing this.

A brief visit to the nursery to buy a Fuchsia for Drew and Keith and then on to Lymington.

Lymington is on the coast and was the home of Captain Arthur Philip for many years. His cottage is no longer there, it and three others replaced by a newer (200 year old) building. Like many towns, they hide their Tourist Information Centres, or move them but leave the signs pointing to where they used to be. We did eventually find it and with map in hand, set off to walk the main street and then down to the harbour for lunch.

Of greatest interest, in an obtuse kind of way was the crinkle crankle wall (also known as a crinkum crankum, serpentine, ribbon or wavy wall). It is an unusual type of garden wall in that it economises on bricks because it can be made just one brick thin. You just have to change the direction every couple of metres so it won't fall over. If you've ever made a wall with playing cards, you'll get the drift … or not!

I photographed all the interesting older building between the wall and the harbour. Close to the bottom of the street we passed a bakery "Mines a Pasty" … get it Cornwall …. Mines. The best Pasty I've eaten in 55 years … well, the best half a Pasty … we shared. Gonna bake some Pastys when we get home.

We sat on a bench seat down at the harbour .. actually more like a marina in the estuary, packed with boats. What did I expect, two small yachts were flying the All Black flag. Too soon!!!!!

On the way back up the narrow alley, Ches saw a sign, "Ginger Ice Cream". Cups of icecream in hand we returned to the harbour to eat. That's where I photographed the family of crabbers in an earlier blog.

Finally back to the car and head home. Even in the middle of The New Forest, there is no escaping traffic congestion. We had passed through Lyndhurst on our way home from Bournemouth a month ago, and had been staggered by the traffic jam driving though the middle of town. There are no other options. Again, we hit the tailback and wondered at its cause.

I looked up Lyndhurst on Google. It said that it as was as well known for its traffic jams as anything else. We probably don't need to visit, as two slow drives down the main street at the speed of a pedestrian has allowed us to see all the beautiful old buildings.

Home Tom and don't spare the horses.