THROUGH LEAFY LANES

Southland Times, Issue 22471, 6 November 1934, Page 9

THROUGH LEAFY LANES

MOTORING IN BRITAIN CAVES, CHEESE AND TRAFFIC JAMS. Article V. A visit to the famous Cheddar caves and the ancient towns of Glastonbury and Exeter are described in this, the fifth of Mr M. N. Hyndman’s articles on his motor tours in Britain. Black clouds threatened as we left Wells (he continues) and on the near slopes of the Windips we were forced to shelter while thunder and lightning and a deluge of rain made us extremely doubtful as to the day’s enjoyment. But the storm passed, and the clear freshness of the air made our drive to Cheddar doubly pleasurable. The country leading to the' wonderful caves reminded us of some of the most rugged portions of the Alexandra (Otago) district. The road descends steeply into the Gorge, winding picturesquely at Burrington Coombe and passing the “Rock of Ages.” Sloping hillsides give way to rougher country, and the road sweeps round in a perfect horseshoe bend, while above rise huge perpendicular limestone cliffs hung about with creepers and flowers. At the moment we viewed this wild and beautiful scene in which the Cheddar Caves are set we appeared almost alone, and we expected that on this off day we would have quietness to enjov the subterranean wonders. Alas for our hopes! We turned the last corner and found ourselves in the midst of scores of parked motor buses, cars and motor cycles and sweet vendors and policemen and a crowd of sightseers, such as one sees at Riverton on Boxing Day. Caves Inspected. Disgustedly we obeyed the instructions of an official “packer,” and leaving our car amidst the host, threaded our way past a small township of snack cars, tea shops, and souvenir shops, to the entrance of the Gough Caves. Instead of seeing the caves in peace we were one of a large crowd that followed one of the several guides. I must admit that it was an orderly, considerate crowd; it needed to be, for I should think that the parties going and coming, inside the caves, at one time numbered around 500. Electric flood-lighting greatly enhanced the natural wonders of the caves, and as we crept quietly along winding, semi-dark, passages, this light, playing on stalactites and stalagmites and on the white and pink terraces and waterpools, which reflect artistic drapings and lacy curtains, revealed an Oriental richness of colouring impossible to exaggerate. Queer and grotesque were many of the reflections, unreasonably faithful to man’s handiwork, as the Swiss Village Church and houses complete, but most gorgeous in the colouring wrought by the action of metals in the limestone. To us it seemed that these caves must be unsurpassable, but some New Zealand shipboard acquaintances, who have seen our Waitomo Caves also, maintain that these are superior. We had meant to visit Wookey Hole Caves. 500 feet long, from which the Axe River gushes out, but had had enough ,of caves and • caverns for the time being and were anxious to be on our way. We did, however, stop at a shop and buy some little Cheddar cheeses, which looked very like grape fruit in size and shape. These were especially featured in all Gorge shops, from 9d upwards; we found them very much to our taste, more so than any other English cheese. Bridgwater was our next stopping nlace. Admiral Blake of the Van Tromp-broom-sweening-duel. was born here and a beautiful statue of this great sailor stands in the town square. Glastonbury.

From Bridgwater we travelled to Glastonbury, motoring along a very high road, probably a causeway, for from it we had a wide unobstructed view of the rich pastoral lands of Somerset that lie between the Quantock and the Mendip hills. Lovely fields, rich with what must surely be the unsurpassable greens of English meadowland, and with extensive groves and isolated clumps of trees. It is impossible to exaggerate the intense natural and mellow beauty of the English countryside. The Tor, where the last Abbot