An hour or two later, I emerged from my tent to a very different scene. The crying baby family had left, as had many other campers. The car park which had been thronging earlier was now empty. So Dave and I walked down the short road to the Saracen’s Head in search of a pint and a meal.
Symonds Yat East is a strange little place. It’s not even a hamlet. Just the pub, a few guest houses and a public convenience all in a jumble along a strip set back from the river. It could be quaint but it’s been messed up with too many signs and a couple of horrible varnished tree-stump carvings.
We sat on the terrace watching a young lad working the ferry to and from Symonds Yat West. This consisted of a high cable across the river and a punt to which it was connected by a sliding rope. By repeatedly flicking the rope and pulling on it the operator gradually made progress to the other side. When not required on this antediluvian ferry, he worked collecting glasses in the Saracen’s Head.
[It seems to me that throughout the length of the River Wye, no concession has ever been made to boating convenience. Canoes must be dragged up steep muddy banks to get them out; there are no mooring rings or posts and indeed there are very few places where it is possible to stop, either because the vegetation comes right down to the water or because there is a sign telling you not to.
I appreciate that the attraction of this river is its unspoilt nature, but a few simple conveniences would do no harm, surely?]
The Saracen’s Head has an unexpectedly smart, modern interior for a pub so old. The designer toilets had clearly cost a lot of money. We were puzzled about that until Dave spotted a possible clue to solve the mystery. Although the building is set back from the river bank and is on considerably higher ground, it had been a victim of the serious flooding in 2002. A line was painted on the wall showing the water level that year. It was an insurance job!
Bookmark with:
What are these?