Robin of Sherwood.

1st March 2017

Notts County 2: Robin of Sherwood

What a contrast to yesterday. It’s the first of March and it’s a beautiful sunny day.

I’m heading to Sherwood Forest, legendry home of legendry green-clad robber, legendry Robin Hood, with his legendry Merry Men, who hung around in Sherwood Forest wearing tights. At least according to our big and small screen portrayals they did.

It’s a very convoluted route through various town centres, so again I feel it’s best to rely on the SatNav. Big mistake. There aren’t many directions from her at all; several times I have to guess which way to turn when I come to a junction, because she refuses to speak. But guessing means you’ve got a 50/50 chance, which increases my odds significantly. Seriously… I don’t know how she does it. What she does say is wrong. She takes me a really illogical route and we go right round the block at one point, for no apparent reason.

I have to pull over on an A-road to check the map - my new and invaluable map - because frankly, I just don't trust her. The cinder layby is absolutely filled with rubbish from fly-tippers, probably because councils have now started charging to use council dumps. Apart from the usual black bin bags, there is a toilet and a huge baby’s crib. At the far side of the layby, it looks like litter has been laid out neatly, as though someone has been sorting it out, but as I drive off I see it is a mass of hundreds of flowers and wreaths. Someone has obviously died here.

When I eventually arrive at Sherwood Forest, my first port of call is the café at the visitor centre, which is just opening. I ask for an Americano, as it’s on the menu. The staff member, let's just assume she's called Barbara, tells m in a flat tone: “We’ve just got filter coffee, is that alright?”

I'm not sure why Americano is on the menu then. I hate filter coffee. It sits there stewing away for days on end and tastes like an ashtray. It’s filthy, horrible stuff and we shouldn’t have it anymore, now we have fresh coffee and those gurgling machines.

“Oh…” My disappointment is obvious. “Well... is it nice?”

There is a very long pause and I start to think she hasn’t heard me, but then she shrugs and says: “Well, I’d rather have gin.”

This breaks the ice – I really like her sardonic tone – we’re friends now. I just hope that because it’s early morning and hopefully the coffee is fresh, it will taste acceptable. Unfortunately, it doesn't. It's disgusting.

While I’m trying to keep the coffee down, Barbara starts a conversation with a forest warden. It seems there have been demonstrations locally, as there are plans to begin fracking a large area of the forest and up to the famous Major Oak. She asks the warden why fracking is worse than mining, as this was a mining county and there is a disused colliery just over the road. I can’t hear his reply. I know it’s bad, but I don’t know why, so I’ll need to Google that later. (And I do. “Fracking” is fracturing shale to let gas out, which is then forced to the surface using quite harmful chemicals. There are concerns that the chemicals will get into the water table and that fracked land will become unstable and subside.)

I call into the free Robin Hood exhibition, which is really good. I like the fact that they say straight away that there is a question mark over the existence of Robin Hood. According to the legend, fatally wounded after a sword fight, Robin lay dying. He fired his bow for the last time and said: “Bury me where my arrow falls.” And Little John complied.

The stories of Robin Hood go back before writing, they were part of an oral tradition of ballads and there were hundreds of stories of the brave outlaw who robbed from the rich to feed the poor. The nation had such a fondness for these stories and the characters, that Sherwood Forest has been a popular place to visit since Victorian times. Nottinghamshire County Council established it as a Country Park in 1969.

I set off along a gravel pathway, following signs for the Major Oak. The forest is mainly mixed woodland, with some giant oaks, silver birch and occasional other trees. Sadly, many of the ancient oaks are in a bad way, with branches missing and braces around their boughs holding them together. None more so than the Major Oak itself. In 2002, this was voted Britain’s favourite tree. It is believed to be between eight hundred and a thousand years old. It is incredibly wide and the trunk is hollow; it is inside here, it’s said, that Robin and his Merry Men would hide from the Sheriff of Nottingham and successfully evade capture. Unfortunately, many of the tree’s huge branches are now held up by various supports.

There is much wildlife lurking between the brambles and bracken. The forest is home to bats, hedgehogs, red deer, fallow deer, moles, hares, rabbits, owls, foxes and a host of other mammals. If you like your creepy crawlies then this is the place for you. It is supposed to be one of the top ten places in the country for spiders, having over 200 species.

I follow a path to the adjoining village of Edwinstowe. It's a pleasant little place that rather sells itself as the village where Robin hood lived, but not in an obvious and tacky way, like Tintagel sells itself as Camelot, with the Arthur This, the Maid Marion That and the Sir Lancelot The Other. Edwinstowe is nothing if not tasteful. It’s got some lovely old buildings and is full of character. On the high street there are Bronze statues of Robin and Maid Marion. The chippy is called Robin Hood’s Plaice. There is a pub on the outskirts called The Robin Hood. They are making the most of the supposed connection, it’s to be expected. The nice church claims this is where Robin and Marion were married.

In the afternoon, I visit Sherwood Pines, a few miles away. This is, as the name suggests, predominantly a pine forest. The tall, slender boughs of the mature pines look impressive on a sunny day like today; on a dismal day they could look oppressive. Compared to Sherwood Forest, this looks corporate, if that’s possible for a forest. While Sherwood Forest looks natural and intimate, diverse and atmospheric, this looks vast, impersonal, lacking atmosphere. It has wide trackways and stands of dark pines in organised rows; it is a man-made landscape of planted and forested timber crop. The entrance and exit lanes funnel traffic into different zones, it's efficient and rather cold. They put on Concerts in the Forest and there is a Go Ape. It’s a business, whereas Sherwood Forest is an amenity. The difference is immense. I’d rather have a forest than concrete, don’t get me wrong, but this isn’t a patch on its sister up the road. I don’t stay long.

Instead, I head to Rufford Abbey, which is another country park in the care of the County Council. Immediately there is that difference. Again, this is an amenity for people to enjoy and it is a fascinating and varied place.

The Cistercian abbey was founded in 1146. After Henry the Eighth’s Dissolution of the Monasteries, it was turned into a country house. In 1956, the roofs and internal structures of all but one wing were demolished, but the shell was left standing. The front is in an incredible state of preservation, though the back hasn’t weathered so well.

Nottinghamshire County Council have got it just right. There is so much to see and the park is free. There are walled gardens, play areas, conservation and wildlife areas, a lakeside walk, woodland walks, two cafes and it’s all very attractive and a haven for birdlife. Walking along the lake I spot wood pigeons, robins, the ever-dependable mallards, moorhens and coots, sparrows, Canada and graylag geese, gulls, swans, magpies and a chaffinch.

I've had a great and varied day. All that remains is for me to get lost on my way back, thanks to the inadequacies of the SanNav.