As my friends in the States may or may not be aware of, England had a full blown “second wave” of Covid starting in December. The rate of infections had started to climb slightly after schools started back up in September. In November, we had a kind of “circuit breaker” lockdown, where shops and restaurants were closed, but schools were still open. Everything opened back up for December, and I think that, looking back, most people would admit that was a mistake. Between the shops being crowded and people gathering together for Christmas celebrations, January saw cases, hospitalisations, and deaths peaking well above what they were at the beginning of the pandemic last year. Hospitals in particular were hard hit, with nearly double the amount of last Spring’s peak.

Vaccinations started in December, and I have to admit, for all the criticisms we had of the governments handling of the pandemic, the vaccination rollout is one point where they got it “spot on”, as they say over here. After 3 months, over half of the adult population has been vaccinated and the government has published a plan to let us out of lockdown. I won’t reiterate that plan here, as it’s very boring, but you can read about it on the government’s website, if you’re so inclined.

In the meantime, the weather warming up, and drying out (somewhat) has allowed and inspired us to explore some of the outdoor sights around Godalming. The other day, we decided to check out a local ruin that had been catching our attention.

Every time we’ve driven into Guildford, we’ve noticed the very obvious ruins of a church atop a very tall hill just south of the city. However, there was no sign or other indication whether or not this was “public property”, so we just decided there was no harm in trying. The below is not my picture (I borrowed it from Google Maps, but you can see the ruins through the trees. When the leaves began to fall, it was even more compelling.

On Sunday afternoon, despite an overcast sky, we decided to park nearby and walk up the hill. The elevation is about 200 feet, with an incline that’s not difficult, but not terribly welcoming either. Reaching the top is well worth it, though, as the view is spectacular, even on a cloudy day.

For me, though, the big draw was the ruins of the chapel.

It was built between 1301 and 1329, although a Wey River blog that I found references an 1868 work that presents a much more fanciful origin for the church. According to a J.B. Dashwood, both this church and the nearby St. Martha’s (again, situated atop a hill) were built by two sisters who gave their names to the respective hills and chapels. According to Mr. Dashwood, the sisters were “of the giant race” and built the chapels by hand, using only a hammer that they tossed back and forth from one hill to the other as it was needed.

Another legend regarding the hill comes from the eastern side, which we couldn’t access due to a building project, where the hill meets the River Wey (the river that runs through Godalming). The base of this hill, where it’s “golden sands” meet the river is said to be the origin of Guildford’s name. The “guilded ford” where people could safely cross the river. I find this story as doubtful as the one about the giants, but it’s a neat story nonetheless.

In more verifiable history, the Guildford to Portsmouth railroad line runs directly under the hill, and supposedly you can feel the hill shake if a train passes underneath. We apparently were not that lucky, though. Last year, while working on the tunnel, railroad workers discovered several niches that are thought to be part of a medieval shire dating back to the 14th century.

It was a great little excursion about 5 minutes from home. As lockdown progresses, I’ll hopefully have many more such posts to share.