The Nassington Walk – Legendary home of King Cnut The First

Photographs by Jonathan Bridgland, commentary by Sir Hardly Anyone (of whom it has been said).

Ah King Cnut.  Famed King whose name is rightly written as Knútr inn ríki, which directly translates as Rickie’s hostelry famed for its Kings and nut cakes.

King Cnut was King of England (or at least those bits of it which existed at the time) from 1016, King of Denmark from 1018, and King of Norway from 1028.  Which when one comes to think about it is a bit greedy really.

Anyway, he ultimately got his comeuppance as he passed away before being able to have his elevenses which just goes to show how careful one has to be in this part of the world.

This is of course an environment that is particularly famous for its prickly pineapple trees and many were passed “en route” as we international travelers are wont to say.  Walkers were of course advised to take particular care.

And indeed we lent a hand as members of the Peterborough Ramblers ensemble are always wont to do when passing by.   Here you can see one of our merry band in the midst of restoring an 11th century sign that allowed passing troops following the great king from one venue to another.   A red sign at 90 degrees to the pole means do not invade until after lunch.  This sign tilted in the mode of a warrior who has had a little too much mead of an afternoon is known as a pole vippet.  And if you don’t believe me you can look it up, because I am jolly well fed up by walkers saying to me that the “last piece” as they are wont to call each exposition of historic interest, was “a real corker”.  I do not write “real corkers” and what’s more anyone who ….

[In the interests of good relations with our readership the editor has removed the previous correspondent and the column is now being continued by Nel Son.]

And thus what you are seeing here is one of the invaluable signs which tells us all where we are, or perchance where we would like to be if we had not taken the wrong turning 10 miles back due to the lack of attention of the previous scribe.  Or perhaps because the chronologist made the classic error of walking and camera pointing at the same time, with occasional camera clicking which is not quite as simple as it may appear to the lesser mortals who occasionally stumble upon my gilded prose.

Thus it is that on occasion a walker, whose face seems to be familiar can be forced to wait upon the gentleman of the photographic bent and demand upon him questions as to where he has been a dillying and a dallying and forsooth quite why he was of the aforementioned persuasion. Answer in this case was there none and thus the Deputy Under Photographic Whatnot is forced to remonstrate with the Chief Headman i/c Snaps and ask whereupon the Headman had been.  Was it dallying forsooth?  Words, it is said, were exchanged, and letters of resignation from the post of Chief Headman i/c snaps were produced and there was much venting of anguish and demands for better terms of engagement on all sides.

And it is here that we must leave this jolly band until we pick up their adventures anon in part two of The Great Saga of the King Cnut March Across the Fens and Other Places Not Yet Identified, of which you will be sorry to hear, this is only part one.   Which just goes to show.

But I can leave you (picture left) with the queue of volunteers anxious and keen as ever to take over the role of walk leader, providing the walk leads forth upon ever greener shades of grass.