'Holloway' comes from the Anglo-Saxon 'hol weg', and refers to a sunken path that has been grooved into the earth over the centuries by the passage of feet, wheels and weather...

'The Old Ways' Robert Macfarlane

Dorset is full of sunken ways, paths worn deep into the chalk and the sandstone by centuries of use, but the most spectacular of the sunken ways are the West Dorset holloways.






Blackbirds flutter up in the corner of your vision, like animated fragments of shadow.



I followed the holloway known as Hell Lane. The upper reaches of the track pass through a deep dark gorge in the sandstone, where wrens trill from hidden crannies behind the ivy.






In the underworld, the tree roots are above your head.

The lower reaches of Hell Lane are always an adventure. It is more of a stream than a track, even during the driest spring on record. It's not as overgrown as it used to be - in the past I've had to fight my way through curtains of brambles - but it's still a scramble in places, round quagmires and deep ruts.




It may be rough going, but on a hot summer's day it is blessedly green and cool and damp.

At the bottom of the hill, Hell Lane gives up all pretense of being a path and becomes a proper stream.


But it's a very shallow stream. You can walk it dryshod if you have faith in the waterproofing of your boots.