Distance: 7.1km
Accessibility: The road is level, and was intended as a pavement, so bar the weeds the journey is smooth. Keep an eye out for broken tiles, and stay on the path.
Landscape: Woods/Urban decay.
Had a panic that this book was slipping into a production line of near identical country walks. I do not want chapter after chapter of rinse and repeat greenery, sandwiched by nostalgic waffling about a scarf wearing mouse.
So I bumped Snaca Wood up the list to my next journey. This place may not last much longer. I cannot offer a full back story to this strange place, but thanks to some delving into local newspaper archives I know the jist behind its creation.
About fifteen years ago a housing company tried to convert some of the forest round here into an estate of pristine new builds. The project got to the point of laying the brickwork and putting up the roofs, when everything shut down. I presume the money ran out. The land drifted back into public hands, and for a few hours on a Sunday afternoon you can tour what remains.
For the first time this year glorious sunshine meant I go away with a light coat and no gloves. Patchy tarmac offered a place to park the car, and you can imagine turning here from the main road into a snug cul de sac. No fences stop you entering this former building The ground underneath flits between boggy topsoil and patchy macadam studded to oblivion with weeds. Wild garlic gives the illusion nature had conquered any human action, until you spot the odd chunk of tiles sunk into the earth.
You soon reach the shells of abandoned houses, by roots and ivy. They jut out the ground in triangles of brickwork, roofs long gone, floors a leafy mess. But this is not the grey stone of monastery ruin. Graffiti smothers the brickwork, covering these potential homes in pictures and scrawl.
Snaca Holt is closer to an outside art exhibit than suburbia, and it is strange to imagine the lives almost spent here. That people could have been watching the football or eating Sunday dinner metres away from your hiking shoes. And it's weird that the company gave up on such a prime spot when they were so far through places. No one would stop me if I came here and stole all the materials.
What did the architects think? How many forgotten corners of the UK are like this? Life seems so organised sometimes, but places like this remind you there is no great plan keeping everything ticking. If there is one thing I have discovered on my walks, it is how easy you can be alone in such a mathematically crowded country.
Although on this walk, I would soon discover I was not on my own.
:::The moonlight is blinding tonight Barbara. I looked out of the window, and had to shield my eyes. That glorious astral object is a perfect round disc in the sky. A snow moon.
Do I ramble too much at the start? There's some strange stuff to come so we do get there. Such a fascinating site. Vivid graffiti. I hope the colours come through in the photo!::
