Woolly says – We’d arrived at our beautiful summer home in Ross on Wye, having managed to unpack everything, repacked a small bag we headed off for a weekend with Nanty Carys and Nuncle Les, Alfie the Dog and I were very excited as we knew that fuss and love would be unlimited.  With Zoe taking the wheel I eagerly looked out of the car window as the miles passed by, we’d made good time and arrived with plenty of time to spare before our evening’s activities.

For those of you that don’t know Nuncle Les is a singer with a group of people called the Wareham Wailers and we were going to be lucky enough to see them perform a set called The Shout which celebrates the 200 years that the RNLI has been saving lives at sea. A short drive to Poole and the RNLI College went quickly and as Nuncle Les went to warm up….I did offer him my jumper…Jo, Zoe and I wandered around the small gallery of information about the lifeboats and how they had come into being in 1824. A cork buoyancy aid caught my attention as did the range of shiny medals that are given to volunteers for their outstanding contribution to the charity.

Having taken a quick peek outside in the failing light at the lifeboats that were moored we hurried into the venue to find our seats and enjoy an evening of shanty’s; very enjoyable I have to say.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, and Nanty Carys had a plan for the day, piling into the car we set off through the New Forest, an area that is famous for the New Forest ponies that roam freely before arriving at the small village of Burley. People have lived in the Burley area since prehistoric times, at least 23 Bronze Age barrows are known in the area and there is an Iron Age hillfort just to the west of the village. The name came from its Saxon occupation as the name Burley is composed of two Saxon words ‘burgh’, which means fortified palace, and ‘leah’, which means an open meadow or clearing in a wood.

With one road through the village, we followed the pavement round from the carpark finding ourselves outside a rather magnificent shop called the Coven of Witches, the exterior had some wonderful wooden painted carvings.

Directly opposite was another shop dedicated to all things witch with its neighbour also selling items for covens, where had they brought me? Was I actually safe amongst all of this witchcraft? I prodded Jo and pointed out my concerns.

I had already thought along a similar line and wondered what connection there was, Zoe in a similar mindset was busy googling and was able to tell us that Burley had a long connection with witches, in the late 1950s, Sybil Leek, a self-styled white witch, lived in the village. Each day she could be seen walking around Burley with her pet jackdaw on her shoulder before she moved to America.

Woolly says – Feeling slightly reassured that we wouldn’t all be turned into frogs I paused to look at the war memorial and the village clock before heading for ice cream and a chance to rest our paws.

Waving goodbye to the small village we climbed back into the car as Nuncle Les drove through the lanes to one of his favourite cafes for lunch. Aunt Fanny’s was a treat, a small place with lots to see from the hanging tea pots to the Famous Five books from where it had taken inspiration for its menu. Even better the sandwiches were fit for a mammoth.

With our bellies full to bursting we set off for the last part of the day and a chance for Barking Boy to come off the lead and stretch his paws a little more. A potholed track led us to the parking area for a place called Badbury Rings.

Badbury Rings is an Iron Age hill fort and Scheduled Monument in east Dorset and was once in the territory of the Durotriges. Sitting 327 feet (100 m) above sea level there had been two main phases of construction; the first covered 7.3 hectares (18 acres) and was defended by multiple ditches, while the second was more than twice the size, covering 16.6 ha (41 acres) and defended by a single ditch and rampart.

Until 1983 Badbury Rings was privately owned as part of the Kingston Lacy estate, and the owner’s discouraged investigation of the site. The site now belongs to the National Trust who have cleared much of the undergrowth and completed surveys showing the 28 hut sites that would have once been occupied.

Leaving Nanty Carys and Nuncle Les by the car the women and I followed the mutt upwards to the first of the defence ditches allowing us to bob up and down through the next ones as we moved higher and higher towards the top of the fort.

The views were tremendous, and we would have happily walked much further but we hit mud, lots and lots of it and fearing for the car and carpets we turned back on ourselves and headed back to the car.

So wonderful to catch up and to spend time with family we were all sad to leave the next morning but with the glamping season fast approaching there was lots of work to be done and time was now of the essence.