A journey to Cheddar Caves (Gough’s Cave and Cox’s Cave) and a climb up Cheddar Gorge.
This morning found us back in Cheddar for a proper look at the caves, now called Gough’s Cave after Richard Gough, the man who found, excavated and opened them to the public.
The cave system stretches for over two miles but only a small section of this is open to the public. During the excavation in the 1800s, a number of human skeletons were found along with human brain cases which appear to have been prepared as drinking cups. DNA taken from a skeleton dated to 7150 BC has been matched to a retired history teacher living locally. Now that really is something to impress people with at dinner parties.
The caves were pleasant enough, but once you have seen one limestone cave you have seen them all. They are a constant temperature of 11C which, I am told, is the perfect temperature to mature cheese. Just inside the entrance was a store of cheeses from the factory across the road. The air had a musty unpleasant smell close to the cheese. I don’t know if that was the cheeses or simply because it was the lowest section of the caves. The guide said there was often an unpleasant smell when they opened the doors in the morning.
We stood and looked up at the wire cages, high up on a rocky shelf, containing hundreds of wheels of cheese.
“You ate some of that cheese yesterday, do you want some more?” I asked Madam.
She gave a small shudder of pleasure and said “I certainly do!”
As we walked further into the cave we climbed higher into the limestone cliffs and the air became fresher. There were small pockets of plants growing near to the electric lights. Hearts tongue ferns, mosses and lichens were in patches wherever there was water and light. The guide told us that spores and seeds were carried in by a colony of a hundred or so resident horseshoe bats.
“This is way more entertaining!” said Madam as the snarling wolf lunged forward.
“This is brilliant!” she continued as the brown bear tore through the rocks into our tiny cave. We were trapped by a rock wall at the back and a cascading waterfall to the side. Luckily the Mesolithic hunters in front had some pointed sticks, so we were saved. You can do a lot with a pointed stick in the right hands.
We were in ‘Dreamhunters – The Adventures of Early Man’ in Cox’s Cave, just down the road from Gough’s Cave. According to their promotional leaflet:
‘This multimedia experience allows guests to walk in the footsteps of their ancestors. Discover the ingenuity that saw our forebears master tools, weapons and fire to overcome fierce predators and a changing climate.’
And very well done it was. The caves were small, we were shuffling sideways through narrow passages, crouching under low overhangs and dipping fingers into pools of freezing water. I was so entranced by the whole experience that I completely forgot to take any pictures so you will just have to go and see it for yourself.
The exit from Cox’s Cave led us to the foot of Jacobs Ladder, a steep set of 274 stone steps that take you directly to the top of the gorge. About halfway up I reached the startling conclusion that I was no longer thirty years old. I stopped, panting and struggling to recover my breath. I took the last section slowly on wobbly legs, listening to creaking knees and complaining muscles.
After the steps was a further long climb along a steep and slippery rocky path. Black and white goats were sitting alongside the path unconcerned by the steady stream of passing walkers. The full trail is three miles but that was more than either of us wanted, so we reached an open point above the gorge and stopped to admire the views.
The view stretched over green fields with compact tidy farms towards the Mendip Hills. Nestled in the valley below was the city of Wells, the cathedral clearly visible. On the far horizon was Glastonbury Tor standing high above the other hills.
“Worth the climb?” I asked Madam, but she was already heading back down the trail to the cheese shop so I never received a reply.