17-18 Dec 2016: Six Inch weekend

The Six Inch weekend. Is it a holiday? Sort of, we did go away... Whatever it is, it certainly fits the name of this blog :-)

The Six Inch is a trail ultramarathon. From North Dandalup to Dwellingup, along the Munda Biddi bike bush trail. Forty-six kilometres of trail running. We stayed Saturday night in Dwellingup. I ran the Six Inch on Sunday.

Deb & I drove to Dwellingup on Saturday afternoon, to the Dwellingup Hotel. We stayed the night in a motel unit which is part of the hotel. A very nice unit, simple, clean, quite new (for a country motel).

We paid for the room as we checked-in... Last year we waited to pay as we left. We were only helping, not running, last year. Even so -- we left before dawn and before the hotel was open for payment of bills. We had to go back after lunch (after the event finished) to pay for the hotel. So this year we paid in advance.

This hotel provides a whole litre of milk! Actually enough for tea, coffee, breakfast and more tea and coffee! Brilliant! Anyway, we went out for coffee.

We went to the Blue Wren, just a short walk from the hotel. There are three places for coffee in Dwellingup -- Blue Wren, Millhouse, the IGA -- all within a short walk of the hotel.

Coffee and cake? I asked Deb. But we'll be having dessert after dinner, Deb said. Don't worry, I said, I'll eat most of it and burn it off tomorrow. So we had coffee and a shared chocolate honeycomb cheesecake. Delicious :-)

We walked back, around the block -- and discovered a garden/park which is maintained in memory of a past Dwellingup resident. Must go back in rose season, there are quite a few rose bushes. A very pleasant spot, I'm glad we found it.

Back to the hotel, a bit of a rest, then an early dinner.

I was tempted by the "curry of the day" but decided not to risk strange food on the day before a run. So I had steak. Deb had a wagyu burger. Both meals very nice. But nothing on the dessert menu appealed. We'll get a chocolate bar at the IGA, we decided.

The IGA was closed. And, speaking of closed: There's a small shop called, "with love from Bec". It's full of pretty knick-knacks. Gifts, perhaps. It's owned by the sister of the woman who cuts my hair. We'll drop in on the way back from the Blue Wren, we had decided. (Coffee was more important than saying hello to, probably, someone who runs a shop owned by the sister of the woman who cuts my hair.) And, after coffee -- that shop was closed. That's what happened last year, too !

Anyway, back to dessert: The IGA was closed. The Blue Wren was closed. So we bought a rather delicious chocolate cake at the Millhouse Cafe. Just one piece. We shared half for dessert. And have just eaten the other half -- Sunday afternoon, at home again.

So. Tea, coffee, cake in our room. A bit of TV. An early night...

To wake up at 2:30 am on Sunday. We weren't the only early risers. I felt sort of sorry for the person in the room next to us. He seemed to be the only person who was *not* wanting to wake on at 2:30 am on a Sunday morning.

Breakfast, packed a few things. I put vaseline on all the moving parts under the running shorts. And on the inside of my legs. And under the waistband, and on my nipples... I've learnt that it's better to be safe that sorry. Applied some sunscreen, though most of me just puts up with the sun.

We drove to North Dandalup Hall, for Six Inch registration at 3:30. Quick and easy, I'd picked up my race bib in town on Friday. Just had to check that I would be carrying the compulsory gear: strapping tape, crepe bandage, bandaids, mobile phone, a litre (at least) of water.

I had more than a litre of water, plus two iced coffees... I expected to be out on the course for up to eight hours. Or more. I didn't mention to the organisers that my mobile was switched off. No way its batteries would last for eight hours. (Thanks for the cheery "on the track" good wishes Andrew! I received it when I switched on the phone, back home :-)

Then Deb waited in the hall (where it was warm) while I did the standard waiting in a queue for the toilet. So many nervous stomachs before a trail run :-) And you don't want to have to go in the bush.

A woman's voice called, Nick, are you still in there? Yes, I replied... then realised it was not Deb's voice. But I'm not the Nick you want, I added. She (whoever she was) was back, five minutes later. Are you in there, Nick? This time several blokes in the queue replied, Not *your* Nick!

We drove to the start line. Just over a kilometre down the road. Some people were walking, some may have jogged. I was saving my strength.

I made sure I had everything ready to run. (I still forgot that I had meant to apply lip-sunscreen.) Deb drove back to Dwellingup. I waited for the 4:30 start.

Deb: Went back to the hotel. Went for a run (eight km plus a bit of walking) along the Bibbulmun Track on the other side of Dwellingup. Very nice, she said later, though there had been a fire and some parts of the Track were hard to follow. She was also worried about heading off with no-one knowing where she was, so she ran carefully.  I said (when Deb told me this) that I would have known where she had headed off to. Some time in the afternoon. When I had finished the Six Inch.

Then Deb packed up and moved out of the hotel. No-one in sight to take the key, so she left it in the room. Just as well we had paid in advance.

She went for morning coffee at the Blue Wren but it was crowded with motorbike riders. So she went to Millhouse, where there were only the overflow bike riders. By 10:30 she was at the Six Inch finish -- the grassed area across the railway line from the hotel -- and watching finishers dribble in. The winners would have finished between 8:30 and nine.

Meanwhile: At 4:30 the sun was just rising. And we -- me and the other Six Inch runners -- were off !

Off, and up a long... long hill. There are two very nasty climbs on the Six Inch: just before the second Aid Station, and at the start -- where a lot of people (eg me) are not really warmed up. I was prepared. I walked up.

So I established my position in the pack. Nowhere near the front. But not quite at the back.

What can I say about the run itself? Nothing much... I just ran and ran... and walked, and jogged... and walked. It was a looooong run.

My training had been regular but short. I never ran more than 12km at a time, usually less. I had carried a backpack on some runs, to build leg strength; I think it worked. But I should have done at least some 30 or 40km training runs... But I hadn't. I was quite pleased to be able to cover the 46km at all :-)

The trail went 18km before it crossed Del Park Road, about five bitumen km from the start. A lot of scenic winding around hills and creeks. I was quite pleased with this section: I had a pack of people, perhaps twenty, in sight ahead of me. Plus another dozen or so that I occasionally saw behind me.

After crossing the bitumen, the crowd ahead had moved away, out of sight. From then on, it was a series of one or two people appearing from behind then disappearing ahead of me. There were perhaps six people who I saw (or whom I saw) several times. They would pass me, I would pass them, they would pass me...

I had a "race plan". The key points were the times I should arrive at each of the two aid stations, in order to finish before the cut-off time. Cut-off was at 12:30 (eight hours), my plan was to finish at twelve.

I was thirty minutes early at aid station one :-) (That's 22km.) Lost half of that by aid station two. And was walking from there to the finish...

Coming in to aid station one I drank my iced (but warm) coffee. At the station I grabbed and ate a banana. The coffee was good but I was not game to mix it with the flat coke at the station. Flat coke is good but I suspect it would not sit well on top of milky coffee. I may rethink the coffee, for future runs.

I drank the second coffee just before station two (34km from the start). That was a mistake... The second milky coffee sat very heavy in my stomach. When I ran, it felt bad. Perhaps it was the addition of an icy-pole that I had at station two?! More rethinking required.

Just before station two is a hill. A steep hill, perhaps 45 degrees. A couple of hundred metres of track. With washaways running down the track. You have to pick a path, one of the ridges between washaways. Then change ridges, when one disappears. Luckily, this year, the loose gravel on top of each ridge seems to have disappeared. Washed away? I managed to get up with not too much trouble. The backpack training, perhaps?

Turn around at the aid station -- and go down that hill again :-(  Again, though, not too bad. Just slow.

And from there on -- another 12km to the finish -- I occasionally jogged a hundred metres of so. And walked the rest. With more people overtaking...

It was a battle between legs, stomach and brain. Legs said, let's walk. Or stop. Stomach said, slow down, stop bouncing. Brain said, keep walking, fast. Unfortunately, brain had also calculated that I could finish before the cut-off. Even if I walked. So I did a lot of walking.

At the start of the run I had kept myself going with thoughts that macho man finishing the Six Inch would be sure to get the girl. By the end -- a bit more tired -- I kept myself going by thinking, It'll be nice to see Deb at the finish...

And so, I finished...

Just short of the finish, race marshalls pointed up the footpath and said, Up there, cross the road, there's just 200m to go. What?! I replied, 200m?! Too far... I'm going back again... The comment was well received, I won't fire my scriptwriter.

And I finished. In 7 hours 21 minutes. And a few seconds. Well before 12 noon ! Well, nine minutes before. I was -- and still am -- very pleased :-)  Not a PB though... In 2014 (only other time that I have finished) I panicked, and had to run a lot of the last 12km. But that's a separate story...

Deb was waiting at the finish :-)

We sat, I drank water. Deb bought herself a hot coffee, I drank it, Deb bought herself another coffee. We waited for the presentations then drove home.

I was not as shattered as I had been in 2014. I still let Deb do the driving.

I'll never walk again... Certainly never *run* again.

Well, not till our next training run. But our next "fun" run is not till January next year.

An enjoyable weekend :-)

====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Consulting Dexitroboper
Agamedes Consulting / Problems? Solved.
====

"No plan survives contact with the enemy." … Helmuth von Moltke the Elder
   

2016-05-19 Thursday: leaving Ireland

Headlines

We Pack, Eat, Say Farewell and Fly
It's an Easy Flight to Dubai
It's an Easy Flight to Perth

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Stream of Consciousness

We Pack, Eat, Say Farewell and Fly

Pat makes porridge for breakfast. Interesting... We usually have milk and sugar with our porridge. I know that Scots will have salt. Terry and Pat have jam, no milk. Works for me! Then I keep eating... the last of their bread, as toast. (And the homemade marmalade is nice.)

We are packed, ready to go. There's rain, to make us sorry to leave Ireland :-)

We say our farewells, it's been good. And Pat takes us to the airport.

Pat drives us to the airport. She's flying to London, so is also going to the airport. Terry stays at home, to look after himself for a few days... With less bread than he may have anticipated.

The rain gets heavier. The motorway makes it a straight drive but there's quite a bit of traffic. As we arrive at the airport the rain is just a light shower... By the time we take off for Dubai -- the rain has cleared. Just a bit of rain to let us know that we really were in Ireland!

It's an Easy Flight to Dubai

For the two flights to get home, I've made sure that I'm in an aisle seat. Enough of being stuck in place by a stranger  in the outside seat! We find our seats -- and discover that I had managed find a set of just two seats! (So long ago, I have forgotten.) So Deb has a window and I have an aisle. Brilliant! Especially since the start of this leg has a view -- climbing out of Dublin -- that is worth seeing.

We're sitting quite near the back. Just a few rows forward of the rear toilets. All very convenient :-)

I read a few chapters of my new business book. Solve a couple of puzzles from a newspaper. Start reading The Three Body Problem on my tablet. Start a game on the plane's entertainment system. That locks up so I read some more. Deb listens to music and stories.

Takeoff was delayed but we arrive at Dubai with plenty of time to drink coffee, eat a snack bar, board the next plane.

It's an Easy Flight to Perth

Now we're in the air on our way home to Perth... very early morning Irish time, we've missed a good night's sleep. Early morning Dubai time, we changed planes a couple of hours after midnight. And late morning Perth time... My! How time flies :-)

We've eaten breakfast. We'll have lunch before arrival... And be home this evening.

And "this evening" will be Friday... We left Ireland after lunch on Thursday (the date of this journal entry) and will land in Perth late afternoon Friday.

And if there are no more entries... We're home, relaxing. (Or, more likely, taking it easy at the rogaine that we have entered, on the Saturday.)

It's been a great holiday!

Thank you for reading all about it :-)

====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
====

"Today is your day ! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way."    — Dr. Seuss

2016-05-18 Wednesday: With Terry and Pat in Wicklow

Headlines

Sleep Well (except for Deb), Sleep Late (except for Deb)
To Kilmacurragh Gardens! (again)
Lunch at Glendalough (and I confirm the pronunciation)
Home, Blog, Dinner...

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Stream of Consciousness

Sleep Well (except for Deb), Sleep Late (except for Deb)

We have a sound night's sleep. And when I say "we", I mean me. Deb has a bit of a restless night. And wakes up before me. Well, I wake up, make sympathetic sounds... then go back to sleep.

Breakfast: Pat makes pancakes, very nice. Terry introduces me to cinnamon sugar with maple syrup. We discuss possible ideas for the day...

To Kilmacurragh Gardens! (again)

We are driven to Kilmacurragh Gardens. It was once someone's house (or mansion!) and gardens. The house is in ruins, the gardens are being restored and rebuilt. It's very beautiful, lots of trees and flowers and green... I admire the general beauty. Deb and Terry and Pat discuss specifics of plant names and growing habits.

Gradually, it becomes familiar... When we pass a very peculiarly shaped tree root -- it looks like a weird animal -- I am convinced: we have been here before. Probably on out last visit to Ireland. My memory has it as less developed but it could be that our last visit was at a less growing time of year.

We stay for coffee. (And to photograph the public toilet building. But maybe I shouldn't mention that.) Terry speaks to some of the waitresses, to let us hear Wicklow accents. As opposed to Dublin or other Irish accents.

A friend of Pat's comes over to say hello. With my ear freshly attuned to accents I notice that the friend's Irish accent is somewhat stronger and harsher than Terry's. And, as Terry speaks with the friend -- his own accent gets stonger and harsher to match. A good example of standard social practice, to match speaking styles.

Lunch at Glendalough (and I confirm the pronunciation)

We have a bit of a driving tour of the Wicklow Mountains. And very pretty they are, too ! We follow the Clara River, then cross it. Past a house and church by the river, across a very narrow stone bridge. Up the hill on the far side -- the road is single lane amongst the woods. There are walks from here, through the woods. Tempting -- if we had a lot more time and a lot more remaining energy :-)

Back across that narrow bridge. In the middle of all these woods and fields and hills and valleys... a pharmaceutical company! It's a large place, though well hidden in the woods. Barely visible except that Terry drove into their front yard.

We drive on to Glendalough. It is familiar... in a funny way: As we drive in I think, maybe this could be vaguely familiar. As we drive away from Glendalough -- and away from the side road which leads to a house where we stayed, several years ago -- it is all much more familiar!

My theory is, going away from Glendalough we would have been starting out, making sure we were on the right road -- aware of where we were going. Coming back -- in the "unfamiliar" direction -- we would have been going home, familiar with that last stretch of road, not absorbing as much of what we were seeing. It's a theory!

We eat lunch in... whatever the place is called... at the main Glendalough carpark. Pat and Terry recommend the corned beef and the haddock and chips. Deb has corned beef, I have the fish & chips. All very nice.

Note to self: Now we also owe T&P a meal... or two... when they make it to Perth :-)

As we leave Glendalough I mention the suburb of Glendalough near our home. And -- having said the name several times today -- I confirm that the correct (or original) pronunciation is "glen-da-lock".

Home, Blog, Dinner...

We drive home. I spend some time writing yesterday's blog. We all four discuss deep and important matters. We eat dinner, sandwiches. Now... I am about up-to-date.

Tomorrow... Pat will take us to the airport. And we will be on our way home.

So far, so good :-)

====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
====

"Today is your day ! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way."    — Dr. Seuss

2016-05-17 Tuesday: West Wycombe to Ireland

Headlines

I Reinvent the Same Breakfast and Arrange to Print a Boarding Pass
Follow the Motorway to Birmingham Airport
Ryanair to Dublin: first class, of course :-)
If This is Tuesday -- You Must be Terry

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Stream of Consciousness

I Reinvent the Same Breakfast and Arrange to Print a Boarding Pass

Last night I checked in, online, to our Ryanair flight. Deb was reading the paper. She read out an article about "Hidden costs with Ryanair"... One cost is the £15 charged if you do not bring a printed copy of your boarding pass. Oops! We have a tablet -- but no printer...

This morning I wake up with the answer: I send an email to this hotel, the George and Dragon, with the boarding passes attached. Ask them to print it. I mention this to the breakfast waiter... done ! We now have printed boarding passes.

Yesterday I invented my own breakfast, a combination of items from the menu.  Today I asked for the same, and it was different. Not to worry -- still good :-) Scrambled eggs and bacon and a waffle and I add fresh fruit and yoghurt from the cereal course.

We pack up. Pay up. And leave.

Follow the Motorway to Birmingham Airport

Next stop: the car rental return at Birmingham airport. A lot of the drive is along a motorway... good fun :-) I spend a little time doing a ton, 100mph, along the motorway. No idea what the speed limit is... It's fun, the motorway makes it easy -- but still too fast for comfort.

For the last twenty miles we are looking for fuel. We are meant to return the car with a full tank. There's a service area -- but still 30 minutes from the airport, too far away.

There are no more fuel stops along the way.

Suddenly -- there's the car rental return ! Too late ! Okay, we could have spent half an hour searching a strange city for fuel... Too bad.

We drive into the Hertz car rental return. Follow the arrows painted on the road -- and are told that we turned the wrong way. As we drive back I check: No, we did not go the wrong way. The arrow definitely points to where we went.

The car is returned. All well... Except for the exorbitant extra charge for returning it with a less than full tank. Can't complain, I knew it was coming. But on the Hertz feedback survey, the exorbitant charge -- and lack of directions to the nearest fuel supply -- will get a mention.

Ryanair to Dublin: first class, of course :-)

We arrive at the airport with plenty of time to spare. Time for coffee before we can check-in our bags. And we do have bags...

We also have time to buy a book. I can't resist books :-) And at airports I get attracted to business books... So I buy a book about influencing people.

Payment is self-service. We get to the point of putting our card into the machine -- and find that it already contains someone else's Barclaycard! We give that card to the shop attendant and the rest -- our payment, that is -- is easy.

And we do have bags... Ryanair may be cheap. They also charge extra for each bag. A lot extra. I had added up the cost of tickets plus bags -- and paid for first class tickets... Well, "Biz Plus" I think it's called. The all-up cost is comparable to the total if we paid separately. Plus, there are some extras.

We walk the short path to Priority check-in. Our printed boarding passes are accepted -- but so faint that they need to be reprinted. No charge... It would have been £15 each if we had not had anything at all.

We wander round the airport then go through security to the boarding gates. Again, we walk straight through the Priority queue. Interesting: The priority queue is available to anyone, just buy your ticket from the machine at the security entrance.

There's a long and twisty path through duty free. One man -- clearly in a hurry -- is pointed the right way when the path wants everyone to follow through a few more "retail opportunities". A deliberate maze!

Our gate opens for boarding. We wait for the queue to get shorter, maybe forty people still lining up. I politely wave a group past us, feel free to queue up in front of us, I indicate... then casually wander down the empty priority lane, to instant boarding.

Ryanair encourage carry-on luggage rather than checked-in luggage in the hold. But if the plane is full -- you may be forced to check-in your "carry-on" luggage. (I wonder if you would then be charged the checked-in price?!) No worries for us, our pricier ticket guarantees that our carry-on luggage will stay with us.

We sit in the very front row of seats. Easy in, easy out. And with a comfortable amount of leg room! Apart from that, our seats are standard, our service is standard. (That is, none.)

For the safety demonstration, the hostess stands next to us to demonstrate the seat belt, the floaties, to point to the exits... you know the stuff. I comment to Deb, She is really getting into her role :-) The hostess' expression is locked in neutral. I think she catches my eye as I admire her performance... the hostess almost cracks a smile.

At Dublin airport... We're in a new country... I do have some momentary doubt: Have Ryanair landed us in the wrong country?! This is supposed to be Ireland -- and it is not raining! Out of the plane, a quick walk across the tarmac. A delay... Someone forgot to unlock the door. Tsk.

There's an enormous number of passengers queuing up for "EU" immigration. We smile as we stroll to our very short "non-EU" queue. The EU queue is almost clear as the first person in our queue tries to explain why they really should be allowed to enter the country. There are a couple more delays... then it's our turn.

I claim that we're only here for a couple of days. That we are visiting relatives. The immigration officer does a fine job of acting bored and disinterested. We are through.

Our bags are almost alone on the carousel... Are we last? Or are we the only people with luggage?! Customs barely spare us a glance as walk through the "nothing to declare" lane.

And Pat is waiting for us...

If This is Tuesday -- You Must be Terry

Terry and Pat have just arrived at the airport. Terry is waiting outside with the car. After a false start to the wrong floor, we are outside. Into the car. And away!

To Terry and Pat's place, where we dump our heavy gear. They have given us a nice room upstairs. We resist the urge to fall instantly asleep on the comfortable bed :-)

Downstairs. Swap wild stories of family and places and when we were here last. Terry and I have a rapid repartee challenge... of course no-one wins.

Terry and Pat have some business in Greystones, the nearest town. We go with them and walk around the town. Ending with an icecream. Deb thinks it's good, I think it's an icecream. Different levels of general liking for icecream :-)

Note to self: We owe five euros plus interest when Terry and Pat visit us in Perth. Terry provides five euros so we can treat ourselves to an icecream, or whatever. I'm trying to avoid gathering currency which will end up weighing down our pockets till we get home.

We enjoy a relaxing stroll round Greystones. We visited here, last time we were in Ireland. A lot is familiar, the harbour area is new.

The four of us return to the centre of town for a bit more strolling and shopping. Then it's back to Terry & Pat's place for dinner: a good roast beef dinner. I can tell it's beef... Despite my unrefined palate I can look at the Yorkshire puddings (which are amazingly light and tasty) and say, Yorkshire pudding means that this must be beef :-)

And that was Tuesday.

====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
====

"Today is your day ! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way."    — Dr. Seuss

2016-05-16 Monday: in the Chilterns

Headlines

I Invent My Own Breakfast
Shopping in High Wycombe
Hellfire Caves
Lunch with the Dashwoods
A Short Way in the Chilterns

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Stream of Consciousness

I Invent My Own Breakfast

Breakfast is all you can eat, fixed price. Neither of us is particularly hungry. Deb has cereal and fruit and yoghurt. I have waffles and berries and bacon and scrambled eggs, all together. Delicious.

Shopping in High Wycombe

We're in the tiny village of West Wycombe. High Wycombe is a town nearby. I'd read up on (High) Wycombe. Read about the gang battle in the street. The shooting on the dance floor. The exercise in anti-terrorism which supposedly turned up potential terrorists in the town and weapons in the woods.

We go to the Eden Shopping Centre, it's quite nice. We miss the carpark on the first try, I just do a U turn at the next roundabout. Then we drive up a spiral ramp -- round and round and round -- to get to the parking above the shopping level.

There are not too many shoppers, perhaps it's still early for the English shopper.

We go into a "man things" shop, full of clever and gimmicky stuff, much of which even Deb appreciates. I like the book called "Bike Porn"... It's full of pictures of push bikes: the gleamy, lightweight, high speed sort that cyclists drool over :-) We go into a bookshop and buy some children's books.

We look into a couple of other shops... then we're off again. The shops are different to the ones we're used to, the items for sale are a mixture of familiar and what on earth is that?! Even the carpark is easy -- now that we have a supply of English coins.

We drive back to West Wycombe. Do a bit of souvenir shopping. And on to Hellfire Caves... Which are amazing!

Hellfire Caves

There was a small cave, perhaps a chalk quarry, on a hillside. In the 1600s, the local lord helped the local peasants -- who were suffering from drought and failed crops -- by paying them to mine chalk. Not just dig it out -- but dig the mine in a pattern which the lord then used for club meetings.

The caves are a long, narrow, winding tunnel which occasionally opens up into large chambers. "Large" being the size of a small room. Except for one "banquet chamber" which would be five to ten metres across (I'm guessing) and three times that in height. The "club" was a group of rich and powerful men who gathered for debauchery... so they say... but no-one ever told stories. They met regularly. The AGM lasted a week...

It's a man-made cave. With fake stalagmites. A river (Styx ! ) which I think is a natural underground stream, diverted to suit. An amazing experience just to be in there. (The first paying visitors, in the 1950s, paid a shilling for entry and a candle... That would have been scary.) The history -- of the digging and of the restoration -- are a combination of eccentricitry and brilliance.

We enjoy the caves!

I also enjoy browsing some books for sale. One is a series of walks in the Chilterns, each walk passing at least one tea house :-) Another is called Hubbub, it's about the noise and filth and disease etc -- the down side -- of English life in the 1800s.

Lunch with the Dashwoods

We drive out of the village and stop at the first pub that we find, The Dashwood Arms. Share a fish finger baguette. The fingers seem to be freshly cooked! All very nice... including the very pretty (though chubby) waitress showing a sample of very deep cleavage.

A Short Way in the Chilterns

From the Dashwood we turn south -- on a random drive through country roads.

We're in the Chilterns, another officially declared "area of natural beauty". Rolling chalk hills, farms, fields, villages... Over lunch we read The Chilterns, a newsletter of the related conservation group. One article argued that the area had no specific theme, nothing recognisably unique. Just peace and beauty...

Deb suggests that they need a "Way"...  Then we find a map of the Chilterns Way, 134 miles of a loop walk track. Next visit... :-)

We drive through this beautiful, peaceful countryside. Past villages, each with a pub. I think, we could do a pub crawl here... It seems to my memory that that pub crawl concept is the traditional young gentleman's country outing, from "old" English books. The Chilterns newsletter suggested that walking along roads was the done thing... until the 1970s when the roads became too busy... which was a big incentive for development of all the public footpaths through fields.

We reach Henley-on-Thames, park by the river, photograph what looks like a good stretch of river for a regatta, drive on.

A pleasant drive home. Relax. I sleep a bit.

Dinner at home, at the George and Dragon.

Tomorrow, a relatively early start... We're off to Birmingham airport. To return the car then to catch a plane to Dublin. On on on !  Tomorrow :-)

====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
====

"I feel that my enemy is anyone who would, given the power to do so, restrict individual liberty." … Chuck Pratt, 1965
   

2016-05-16 Sunday: Making our Way to West Wycombe

Headlines

Breakfast in the Sun Room
Taxi and Train: Eastbourne to Winchester (again)
We Sample a Motorway Service Area
George and Dragon: our third miss is a lucky one

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Stream of Consciousness

Breakfast in the Sun Room

I'm not sure that I could ever get used to the English idea that is is good to deliberately sit in the sun. Especially not for eating a meal. Our table for breakfast is by the window. All available tables have some sun shining on them. Half way through breakfast -- and I'm dripping sweat. We draw some attention when I close the curtains...

Today, a lighter breakfast than usual: for my hot course I try omelette. It arrives -- too hot to eat! It's a fluffy omelette, no milk, French(?) style, very light. Very nice, too. With just the right amount of cheese.

We pack our cases -- I can put the heavy raincoats in a case rather than carry them in my backpack! I bring the cases downstairs. Ask for a taxi.

Taxi and Train: Eastbourne to Winchester (again)

The taxi is soon here. While we are walking downstairs, the driver and the b&b host have loaded our cases. We're off!

The taxi driver claims to have 50 relatives in Eastern Australia and will be visiting later this year. His first trip to Australia. His main concern is the 24 hour flight! Fair enough, too... I advise him to get an aisle seat.

From Google I had identified two possible ways to get from Eastbourne to Winchester: two trains, changing at Clapham Junction, or a bus / train / train combination keeping nearer the south coast. I ignored the bus option. We are at the station with plenty of time for the one-change option.

The ticket seller looks at that option, it came up first on her screen. Very expensive, she says. A few minutes searching and she comes up with a three-train option, taking about the same total time -- for just a bit over half the price. Sounds good to me... Are you both here? she asks. And we have just four minutes to get on our first train. Easy :-)

Eastbourne to Brighton: A few stations which seem to be suburbs of Eastbourne, connected by nonstop housing. Bigger gaps, fields and farms, stations for smaller villages. Views of the Downs, to the south... We recognise two communications towers that we walked past. Then it's Brighton... Rows and rows of terrace houses. Going on for miles. Not a very inspiring sight.

Brighton to Fratton: A comfortable 25 minutes to change trains. It's a big and busy station. A four-carriage train is waiting at our platform. Everyone suddenly moves further down the platform... Our train pulls up behind the parked train. It's an hour and a half to Fratton, past lots of small village stations. We're on the Portsmouth line, Fratton is a few stops earlier.

Fratton to Winchester:  A 25 minute wait, we have coffee. The next train will have a lunch trolley. Deb had made the mistake of waiting to use toilets at the station, on the grounds that they would be better, somehow, than toilets on the train. Wrong move! Toilets at the station are closed, "Due to vandalism".

We're on this third train for nearly an hour. There is no lunch trolley! The train is going to London, Waterloo... lunch may come after Winchester. At one stop we gain five more carriages, there are now ten in total. At the stop before Winchester passengers are told that they can only alight from the first four carriages, due to a short platform. A few people move briskly up the train.

And now -- we are back in Winchester. I check the GPS. Just over 1.1km to our car, left at the first b&b of our walk. We take a taxi. I say, to Giffard House, but can't remember the street name. Luckily the taxi driver knows Giffard House... We are soon there. Into our rental car. And... driving again...

We Sample a Motorway Service Area

As usual, Deb navigates. I loaded all accommodation into the GPS, Deb reads out the driving directions from the GPS. Even with a cold, Deb makes a good speaking-gps. And I can ask her to repeat if necessary.

We drive along the start of our walk. Then a familiar road that we followed to Rick Stein's. And soon, we are clear of Winchester. A few A roads, a few miles of Motorway, it's time for lunch.

Should we take a random road and find a random pub? No! We decide to eat lunch at a Motorway Service area! And it turns out to be a rather nice, clean, quite new, mini shopping area. We have a light lunch at Costas. Watch the interesting people pass by... A completely different demographic to the Downs villages. A wider mix with a more average average. And broader ethnic range. Also, completely different to home. (Including, that we have an even broader range of ethnic types. This service area is still relatively far from any major cities.)

Back on the Motorway. Past a short, slow spot, a three car accident. Off the motorway, avoid High Wycombe -- and arrive at West Wycombe.

George and Dragon: our third miss is a lucky one

We drive through the centre of the village, see the pub sign -- and can't see where to turn off. Out of the village, make a U turn, try again. We drive through the centre of the village, see the pub sign, turn off -- and various signs say, No Entry to the George & Dragon, and, Do Not Park Here.

Out of that driveway, back a bit -- and we turn into the only remaining possibility. It's a narrow opening -- through the building, the building goes over it. There are people sitting on the other side, eating and drinking -- but there are also cars, further away. We turn in, very carefully. Creep in, very carefully. Must have had a few centimetres clearance, not much more. The drinkers applaud! We breathe a sigh of relief... We're in the carpark.

Remember the "No entry" driveway? That's the easy and popular way in...

We go into the bar and ask where we go for our accommodation. The barman says, back outside and across the entrance archway. We go across. There is a private door, locked, and toilets. After some discussion, we try the barman again... Oh, accommodation! he says, I though you wanted the toilets!

Now we check in.

Our room is number one. At the end of a long, narrow, short passage. I duck every time I walk through. Our door is lower than me. (I'm not tall.) The room is -- generous :-) A four poster bed with a metre or two around it, on three sides. A large bathroom. Ceiling and walls have the Tudor-style white plaster supported by black wooden beams. The floor is somewhat wonky. An excellent room!

The only down side is that we are immediately above the kitchens. We can smell the roast of the day. (Later: Dinner is over. Our window is open to clear the air. No more smell.)

The George & Dragon is old, very old. (1600s?) And, as the sign out the front says, "Lovingly restored." Our room is large, old, clean and comfortable. The bar downstairs is neat and cosy. The outside looks very very old. All very nice :-) All very expensive.

We eat in. Deb has steak, I have chicken Cordon Bleu. Meals that would have been fancy twenty years ago... and are still excellent meals.

After dinner we walk up and down the village main street. What little there is of it :-)  Lots of old and interesting buildings. Lots of through traffic. We check the signs pointing to a couple of nearby tourist traps that we will check out tomorrow.

Hours later, the sun is still up. We are relaxing. Recovering. Feeling very comfortable.

====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
====

"I feel that my enemy is anyone who would, given the power to do so, restrict individual liberty." … Chuck Pratt, 1965
   

2016-05-14 Saturday: walking Alfriston to Eastbourne

Headlines

A Short Cut -- and it Works !
An Unexpected White Horse
Lots of ups and Downs
We See the Sea -- and Keep on Walking
Eastbourne! The Pier! The End! (of the walk!)

====

Stream of Consciousness

A Short Cut -- and it Works !

Remember yesterday, when we met a couple with a pram and children, battling nettles? (Did I even mention it?) Anyway, they are at breakfast. Makes me think that noisy children make for good memories but may be hard work at the time! Deb is able to watch another family with a baby. She enjoys that :-)

Deb and I both have waffles and bacon and maple syrup for breakfast. I add scrambled eggs. Delicious! Plus the usual cereal and fruit and yoghurt and toast and marmalade...

Our b&b is a large house... mansion... sitting at the top of a curving drive. It was built in the 1890s and has been rental accommodation for 30 or 40 years. An impressive building surrounded by a huge area of garden and grounds. Our room has an almost private area out the back, to sit and watch the sun set. (We hung some clothes out to air...) From the breakfast room we see a little bird and a grey squirrel. All very nice.

We set out by walking away from Alfriston. Where we left the Way was in Alfriston. Not to worry: we are following a short cut. I had noticed that one of the recommended pubs was the other side of the Way. So we go towards that pub to start our walk. And cut off a kilometre of so of the Way.

Along White Road, turn left at a bridleway. Through the river flood plains, across the river. Left then right -- and there is a marker for the South Downs Way. It's a stone marker, the first I've seen.

An Unexpected White Horse

From finding the Way near the river... we climb up a short but steep hill. Through fields and past cottages. Into a more open -- larger -- field. The track is almost level. We look over a hedge and see... a chalk horse!

On the hillside across a valley -- a white horse. Well drawn, too. Trotting across the slope. It may be quite new. It is not mentioned in the guide book. The best sort of chalk figure -- the unexpected one! And we have plenty of time to admire it, as we walk a few hundred metres beside that hedge.

Bang! Sounds like a shot! But it is a gas-powered bird scarer. It must include a motion detector: it seems to only fire when birds land. We see crows fly away in fright.

Lots of ups and Downs

Down into a valley. Up the other side, with steps. Through a forest, very nice. Down past farms and cottages. Up a lot of very steep stairs, still through forest. A named forest, I just can't remember the name.

Over a stone wall... Instead of a stile or a gate, the wall gets lower, low enough to step over. We're in a steep -- downhill -- open paddock. With a view of the Cuckmere Meander...

It's the last length of a river (the Cuckmere!) before it reaches the sea. Over thousands of years it's worn a very wide valley. Then taken to wriggling from side to side -- meandering -- across that valley. Of course someone dug a straight trench to stop the meander from being a swamp... There are moves to try and remove the straight trench. I read all about it... then we go down the hill.

At the bottom of the hill is a busy road. With buses to and from Eastbourne and Brighton, bringing people to the Cuckmere Meander. There's a large carpark with lots of parked cars. There's a farm / information centre / accommodation... and teahouse. We stop for coffee and flapjack. (Here, it's a sort of Anzac. A slab of oats plus butter plus syrup. Cooked.)

I like the hand printed note on a jar at the counter: People hate change, leave yours here and we'll take care of it. I still don't tip. It's just not right to tip... I say.

We See the Sea -- and Keep on Walking

At the end of the Meander is the sea. There are tracks leading towards the sea and over the hills. There are hundreds of people walking along the tracks!

This is obviously a good spot for casual hikers!

We follow hundreds of people. Some peel off towards the sea -- and a pebble beach at the mouth of the river. We follow the Way up the hill. Still with crowds of people.

I take a photo for a group of young Chinese(?) tourists. It looks as though a busload arrived this morning. There are lots of foreign speakers walking by. Plenty of English, too. Plenty of people!

We're now walking along the Seven Sisters. Which is a series of long hills, running across our path. So we follow the coastline -- at the top of the chalk cliffs, the sea edge of the Downs -- going up and down seven short, sharp hills. Tiring!

The temperature is also a bit lower than yesterday. The sun is shining but there is always a bit of a cold wind. Or, as Deb says, a bitterly cold wind.

There's a cafe -- but so many cars and people that we just walk on... after buying an icecream from a van. Lunch is muesli bars and such that we have accumulated in my backpack. Then more hours of walking along the edge of the Downs. With views inland and out to sea. With a very sudden drop between us and the sea!

Not that steep drops make me nervous... Hah! There's one spot where there are perhaps eight small crosses at the edge of the cliff. Hmmm. We keep clear of the edges.

Today is completely different to every other day of our walk. It's along a broad grassy area rather than tracks. There is the sea. And there are hundreds of other people.

Eastbourne! The Pier! The End! (of the walk!)

And now -- suddenly -- we see Eastbourne! It's still four kilometres away. We can see lots of buildings, one ugly tower block -- and the Eastbourne Pier.

There's still more than an hour of walking. Quite a lot of it along a track, halfway down the hill, away from most other people. Until... finally... we go down a final hill -- and have reached Eastbourne :-)

This is the official end of the Way ! Though our itinerary points us to the pier as the end... Doesn't matter, we want to go to the pier. Well, I want to, Deb is willing but also wants to sit down!

First, we find our b&b. Lighten our load. Walk the final walk... and reach the pier!

We have finished the South Downs Walk! One hundred miles, 160km, on foot. Seven days walking. Woohoo !!

We celebrate with a "Sussex tea" at the Victoria Cafe on the pier. It's a pretty poor tea, really. Well, the tea is good but the scone is average and the jam is bad. But the cafe is comfortably warm -- must be the first warm cafe that we've found in England! Poor food but a very satisfying celebration :-)

The pier is now owned by a sheikh. A "fake sheikh", according to the b&b owners. Whatever that means! He's not all bad though. He's called the pier... wait for it... Sheikh's Pier... rofl

We walk back a slightly different way, wondering where we stayed when we were last in Eastbourne. You'd think we'd remember, it was only forty years ago. (Back at the b&b I check google maps. And think I can identify where we stayed, within 50m or so. Deb agrees with me. So there!)

We also check out a place for dinner. The b&b gave us a "passport" with discounts at various places. And, presumably, kickbacks for the b&b. I said, On the walk I decided that I really want fish and chips! So they pointed us to a non-discout f&c shop. We go in, smell the deep frying fat and say, Table for two at seven o'clock please.

Back home. Shower and change. My hiking shirt may be binned rather than washed. It has a large tear across the back. Where the backpack rubs, where the tear is hidden by the backpack.

Deb showers first. Then I start. Deb has to come in, to explain the taps... There are instructions on the wall, which I can't read without my reading glasses. Even with my glasses -- the instructions make no sense. They seem to refer to a different tap system.

In the shower there are two containers of -- possibly -- shower gel. I can't read the labels. I use one which does create soapy foam. Does everyone else wear their reading glasses into the shower?! There will definitely be a rude post to the my3Rs blog...

Later, at the Holiday Inn Fish & Chip Shop...

Two cod (battered, deep fried) and chips. Excellently cooked ! With garden salad for Deb and mushy peas for me. More locally ethnic food :-) Banana split, shared, for dessert. Excellent, though could have done with more chocolate syrup.

We walk home. Feeling full, possibly from the fat overload. And well fed. A good meal -- nothing fancy, nothing Master Chef -- just a good meal, well cooked. And half the price of most of our holiday meals.

Sure, I couldn't stand fish & chips every night. But I've also grown sick and tired of good "fancy" food! I was really longing for something simple. Mmmmm... fish and chips :-)

Back home for coffee. With a bit of chocolate which the b&b has left -- with a feedback form :-)

Ahhhhh... relaxing.

With a train trip tomorrow, back to our rental car in Winchester. I know the time of our preferred train. Just need to get there on time to find where and how to buy tickets...

But that's for tomorrow.

====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
====

"I feel that my enemy is anyone who would, given the power to do so, restrict individual liberty." … Chuck Pratt, 1965
   

2016-05-13 Friday: walking Kingston to Alfriston

Headlines

Breakfast with Marilyn: then taxi to ... Juggs Road
Good Views and Lamb Fix: but pollution to the north
Southease: village, church, bridge, railway and more!
The Masts We Could See from the Very Start
Skeet Shooters and Model Gliders
Out to Dinner with Another Babe

====

Stream of Consciousness

Breakfast with Marilyn: then taxi to ... Juggs Road

It's been a hot and sweaty night. Deb and I took turns coughing and snorting. Lots of fun :-)

Breakfast... and we are not alone. We join Marilyn. She's an expatriate Englishwoman from the Dominican Republic. She spent a few months in Australia, years ago, with ... a male friend. She once refers to, My (pause for thought) second husband... She's very polite. For example, Would you be so kind as to pass the... whatever? Pleasant company, pleasant breakfast.

Our hostess is Alison. Friendly, cheerful. We get the impression that she's still getting the feel of this b&b business. Her husband grows orchids. We're told there are hundreds of orchids in the back yard.

Good Views and Lamb Fix: but pollution to the north

Alison calls for our taxi. We are driven back to Kingston. This driver asks, would we like to be dropped closer to the track? Yes please! we answer :-) So he drops us where Juggs Road stops being a steep rough road. We avoid the long and winding trek through the village.

It's a steep climb... of course! But there are views and lambs. Deb gets her lamb fix for the day :-) Onthe way up the hill we have couple of short but interesting conversations -- and my interpretations:

As we are adjusting packs, preparing to start walking, a man and dog pass by. You need a pack which will carry itself, he says. Later, he and his dog pass us, going home again. He looks straight ahead, makes no comment. My interpretation: An English gentleman needs a reason to open a conversation. Putting on an awkward backpack is good. Just passing? No excuse to impose...

Near the top of the hill there is a woman and dog. She throws a ball -- into the long grass ! -- and the dog finds it and fetches it. Actually brings the ball back to be thrown again. Enjoying the game :-) I guess, Springer Spaniel. Deb says, too small for a Springer. We're both right. We all meet at a gate and I ask about the dog. It's a Springer Spaniel -- but very small for the breed.

We exchange a few more words with the dog owner. Amongst other things she says that she lives in Kingston. And I'm sure she then mutters, Next thing, I'll be telling you my address... My interpretation: Either she's a single woman living alone, or there's a high rate of targetted crime, or I misheard :-) Probably just as well that I didn't reply, Well the hill walking certainly keeps you in good shape.

And after that, there's a lot of walking across the top of the Downs. Less other hikers, as we get out of easy reach of the village. And good views!

The weather has cleared and we can see for miles. And very pretty it is, too :-) With no hedges to block the views. Just wire fences and large paddocks.

The distance is still misty. And the mist to the north is distinctly brown. Pollution. Yuk.

Southease: village, church, bridge, railway and more!

We follow the top of the Downs for a long way. Then go downhill towards Southease. It's a village so small that the road to the village is a no through road.

Interesting: the chuch has a round tower! I can only remember square towers on other village churches.

Through the village. Across a "Weak bridge" over the River Ouse. I suppose that a brave motorist could try it... The river is a deep and regular channel with muddy banks. Perhaps it's been dredged? the bridge may be weak but it has been braced -- on either side -- by pontoon-like extensions. Well, pontoon-like in that there are solid, vertical wooden structures connected horizontally to the bridge, out to either side like pontoons on a canoe.

There's a railway line, and the Southease station. If a vehicle needs to cross the railway line, the driver phones a controller, who will remotely raise the boom gates.

Then we cross the wooden -- new and quite fancy -- footbridge over a busy A road. After which... we climb a very long and very steep hillside. Past many cows and calves and a few ewes and lambs. Up, again, to the top of the Downs. There's a lot of uphill. Then a lot more level (with good views all the way).

The Masts We Could See from the Very Start

We reach a pair of communication masts. We could see them at the start of today's walk... it has taken us till lunch-time to get here. The walk so far, has been a very broad curve. We're now about half way to Alfriston.

And yes, we are sure that we are about half way. We checked -- and double-checked -- today's distance. In the guide book, not on the tour company's itinerary.

Skeet Shooters and Model Gliders

Of interest after lunch:

It's mostly a long, almost straight walk, across the top. So no severe ups nor downs. There are views to the north, to what Deb tells me are the Weald and the Northern Downs.

There's the constant, distant sound of gunfire. It stops. A bit later, four cars drive past us, next to the walk track: Range Rover, Porsche Cayenne, Range Rover, Landrover. Each with a driver and a gentleman in a tweed suit. Followed -- at a respectful distance -- by a simpler model Landrover towing a trailer loaded with skeet shooting gear.

Would all this somehow relate to an earlier sign, "Stine Estate. No metal detecting" ?? Perhaps people would go metal detecting for ... some by-product of skeet shooting?! Oh, and do I mean skeet shooting or clay pigeon shooting, or are they the same? So much I need to know!

Over lunch we had seen gliders. Now we see them closer -- and they are model gliders.Three metre wingspan. Half a dozen flying and a couple more being prepared. Amazing! Deb asks, Would I like to fly one? No, I think. Or perhaps a couple of times (till I crashed beyond repair :-) but not as a regular hobby. Give me a real light plane that I can sit in, with an engine :-)

We watch one being launched. Hold above head, run forward ten or so steps, throw ! And there is one -- just one -- that is into aerobatics. We watch it loop (wow!) then roll. It wiggle-waggles its wings. Dives at speed... Then we are out of sight.

Out to Dinner with Another Babe

After that... More views, more fine weather, more walking. Very pleasant. Downhill but not too steep, into Alfriston. Through the village -- and another kilometre to our b&b. And it's very nice... We just wish it were closer to the village... or, at least, closer to an inn. Oh well.

Deb is really, really tired. As usual, she just keeps on walking. But she is now tired enough that she actually mentions that she is tired. So we wish that we could eat closer than the village. But... :-(

The way to the village follows a road. The footpath is overgrown, with nettles along the edges. In shorts, I am very careful. We pass a young couple with two children, one in a stroller. The father goes first, bashing down as many nettles as he can. Poor fellow is in shorts.

Going to dinner, we are both wearing long pants and long sleeves. Deb still manages to get a minor nettle sting on one hand :-(

We go to the nearest food place... but they don't serve till 6:30, half an hour from now. We can't wait that long! So we have to walk to the village.

Sure, it's "only" a kilometre. But... sigh.

Now we have the difficulty of eating in a village: choice! We look at one pub. It seems good. It's the most expensive in town. We go across the road to a "smugglers" inn. It looks okay -- but there are no spare tables! Back to the first...

The George Inn... pricey but looks good. And they have a table for us. (It's Friday night. A busy night.)

Interesting: There are a few people, very few, looking dressed up. One couple, the woman is dressed up, just a bit, the man is in shorts and casual shoes. They are drinking -- and playing cards. At the bar is a group of people wearing casual clothes. And some torn jeans, just back from outdoor work, sort of clothes. With dogs, of course :-) Talking about finding a new track to walk along, leading to old trees which have been dated at however many years old they are. (Probably hundreds of years.) A thoroughly eclectic (?) mix of people, in the fanciest inn / restaurant in town.

Our food arrives. Salmon, lamb. And it looks like real meals! A bit of fancy stacking, some fancy vegetable preparation. But the first impression is, This is dinner ! Too many of our previous meals have made me think, Okay, very Master Chef. But is there a real meal in there? Today's meals, we can see the main ingredient. We can see that there are enough vegies and enough potato to fill the stomach. Each one is clearly an identifiable meal :-)

Dessert: we share a peanut paste and white chocolate cheesecake. Deeelicious!

Oh, and the waitress is a bit of a babe. But I don't mention this to Deb until we are on the way home. And, if necessary, I can make a quick escape :-)

Deb decides to go to sleep early. Good idea, she was asleep anyway. We've agreed times at which Deb is allowed to wake me up in the morning.

I'm almost up-to-date with this journal ! A final proof-read... and that's the end of another fine day on the Downs.

====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
====

"I feel that my enemy is anyone who would, given the power to do so, restrict individual liberty." … Chuck Pratt, 1965
   

2016-05-12 Thursday: walking Upper Beeding to Kingston

Headlines

Breakfast: the Australian connection
Escarpments and Teashop and Diversion to Lunch by the Golf Course
Ewes, Lambs, Cows, Calves, a Foal and One Bull
Deb says: Don't forget the icecream van !
Is This the Way to Brighton?

====

Stream of Consciousness

Breakfast: the Australian connection

For today the itinerary shows a comfortable 21 kilometre hike. No need to rush. We can relax over breakfast.

I try smoked haddock in creamy sauce... The haddock tastes like kipper, the sauce goes well with it, makes it less strong. I wouldn't choose it often but more often than kipper.

There's a toaster -- with see-through sides! Brilliant ! As the toast cooks you can actualy see what colour it is -- and stop if it gets too brown. Imaginix, or some such brand. I (unsuccessfully) try to remember the name...

The hosts have been to Australia. Driven west to east and north on a motorbike. Did he say 34,000 miles or kilometres?! Took a year. Plan to do it again and get a bit further north in the Northwest.

We chat a while, exchanging wild stories of travel in Australia. Head off at a leisurely pace... Have you noticed the references to not needing to hurry? Ha :-(

Escarpments and Teashop and Diversion to Lunch by the Golf Course

Today, the weather is clearing. There's still mist but further away. To me, the mist looks brown... I think, looks more like smog blowing in from London. Whatever, we can see some views :-)

We are walking on the Downs. To the south, from what we can see, the Downs roll away towards the sea. To the north there's a sudden drop, then a lot of flatland with hills in the far distance. The drop is "escarpment". Such as Fulking Escarpment... enough said :-)

Our packed lunch (from the b&b) is enormous! Little packets of snacks, chocolate bar, drink -- and two rounds of sandwiches. More that we can possibly eat. So, of course, there are places to buy food on the track...

Saddlescombe Farm is now National Trust. There's accommodation, I think there's a restaurant. There is the Hikers Rest Tea Shop, an attractive woman serving from a caravan in a courtyard of the farm. (Deb says, The English do love their tea shops!) We stop for a drink. Deb can't resist a "Chocaholic Icecream".

We walk through Pyecombe. It's one of the rare occasions where the walk actually passes through a village (or the edge of a village). I guess that's the thing about a "planned" walk, it will be taken away from busy areas. As opposed to the Spanish Camino which goes through the middle of every village near its path. The original pilgrims needed the villages for shelter and supplies.

Just past Pyecombe. the guide book shows that we go up a hill and past the golf course. As we start up the hill, a hiker and a cyclist come down... There is a diversion, they tell us! Sure enough, we backtrack a hundred metres or so and see the signs -- which we had completely missed on the way past! Hang them over the signs that point to South Downs Way, I thought, We saw those signs!

We follow the diversion. Down the hill a short way. Across a busy road. Through a gate and along a muddy track. Then a gentle climb up a grassy path, with a view over crops and the golf course...

At the top of that track, with a beautiful view over crops and golf course. Sun is shining, we are sheltered from the wind by a hedge. We eat a very pleasant lunch :-)

Lunch! Little packs of biscuits, chocolate, chips, fruit, drink -- and two rounds of sandwiches. We could only eat one round. (Each, that is !)

There are, as usual, ewes and lambs, cows and calves. One paddock is especially full of cows and calves. Deb is a bit nervous: a recent Bill Bryson book spoke of people being killed by cows. We walk within a couple of metres of cows. Some look, most ignore us. Right at the end of the paddock... one cow is a bull ! We allow him three or four metres clearance. He is busy sniffing a particular cow. A calf is watching them, rather bemused.

Further on, there are lots of horses. In separate paddocks, we can't walk close to them. In one enclosed yard -- there is a foal ! Still young, still gangly, still cute :-)

We walk down a long farm track. Reach the bottom, cross a sealed road. Now there's a gate to open... I try, and fail. It's a very solid gate so I climb over. Before Deb climbs, a young man comes over and opens the gate for her... The catch slides... I hadn't thought of trying that !

The man says something about cars at the other end of the track that we are now starting up. Cars? Turns out, he really said, Cows.

At the start of this track is a slurry pond... where all the cowshed waste is stored. Now that would be a challenge for bog snorkellers !!

At the top of this track we turn left. And the young man -- still 100m away at the start of the track, starts calling out... Must be something like, "Here cow cow cow!" Because slowly -- very slowly, after many calls -- the cows in the paddock at the top of the track... start to amble out of their paddock, onto the land. Then on and into the milking shed, presumably. Very clever :-)

Walking down a dry slope. I stop to adjust my shoe laces. And find that I can't ! The laces simply won't slide, to pull tighter ! I work out what's happened: the shoes and laces were wet with chalk-infused Downs puddles, the water dried, the chalk remains -- and chalk on the laces stops them from sliding smoothly !

Later: The shoe laces now operate as expected. My interpretation is, the chalk has been knocked or rubbed off.

Deb says: Don't forget the icecream van !

Another sign that we have an extra large packed lunch today: there is an icecream van ! Pity we don't need an icecream. We have an icecream.

Is This the Way to Brighton?

And now... it all starts to go wrong :-(

Remember at the start of the day, a "comfortable 21km hike" ? Well... It's more than that... We pass 21km and there is no sign of the end. (And yes, we are on the right path!) It's obviously a misprint in our itinerary. Unfortunately my mind was set for a relaxed 21km... I get tense.

Luckily Deb does not get tense when she's tired! Deb continues to navigate. I continue to mumble and grumble.

We meet a couple of hikers who ask, Which way is Brighton? We all agree on a rough direction. (I agree but maintain a sullen silence.)

It seems that this couple left Kingston with the advice, You can get to Brighton by following the footpaths, it'll take about an hour. They have already been walking about an hour. Best estimate is, they have another few hours -- three or four -- to go. If they can find footpaths in the correct direction.

I think, if they backtrack us along the South Downs Way for almost an hour they will reach a road, They can phone a taxi to pick them up there. I don't suggest this, it would possibly depress them...

Good luck, we think as they leave. Must read the next few days' papers, looking out for stories of lost hikers...

And finally... we reach the Juggs Inn (at the bottom of Juggs Road, just past Juggs Barn). From here --  as arranged by the tour organiser -- we phone a taxi. Quarter of an hour later, we are off to Lewes (pronounced lew-es, very soft e), to our b&b. Where we collapse.

It's about 6:30pm. We've walked 37 km -- a record. In a bit over eight and a half hours. Would have been better if we'd (well, if I'd) known to expect a very long day's walk.

Dinner in the nearest pub, the Snow Drop Inn. Old building, nicely done up. I order lamb stew... If I'd read more carefully I would have realised that "tajine" implies the sort of spices and meal that I don't like. This one is of that sort but quite nice :-)

Home. Collapse. Sleep...

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Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
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"I feel that my enemy is anyone who would, given the power to do so, restrict individual liberty." … Chuck Pratt, 1965

2016-05-11 Wednesday: walking Amberley to Upper Beeding

Headlines

We Set Off in the Rain: chocolate first... then it's all uphill
Pub Lunch in Washington: damp and cool -- but that's just us
We Walk in the Mist: and almost see a circle of trees
Pig Farm! Brilliant! I'd Pay to See it All Again!
Dinner -- and its Consequences

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Stream of Consciousness

We Set Off in the Rain: chocolate first... then it's all uphill

It rained last night. Heavy enough to notice. Though not from our room -- the old stone walls block out any sound of rain. But the rain could be heard through the toilet window. If we get rain like that, we'll go from damp to soaked! (Later note: Not to worry, all we get while walking is drizzle and spitting. Rain, that is.)

First stop, the village shop. We buy chocolates for morning tea. And various headache tablets for Deb. As we step back out into the drizzle I mutter to the shopkeeper, The things we do for fun...

Today's walk starts with a long, steep climb out of the river valley. Oh well.

We reach the top of the Downs. There are good views from this stretch, to the hills (or plains?!) to the north and the sea to the south. So the guide book tells us. We see mist. We also see sheep and lambs and cows and calves. Good enough views for anyone :-)

And I discover my favourite views on this Downs walk...

We're walking through an area which has less fences. Perhaps a fence on one side of the track. Or no fences at alll... Just downland, sweeping away as far as the eye can see. Which, today, is just a few hundred metres.

We're looking across an almost flat, thick lawn of solid green. Covered with spots of bright yellow dandelions and white dandelion clocks. Or yellow cowslips. No visible sheep, no visible people, just a swathe of green with yellow and white highlights. A place to go walking, preferably with a dog. It is abolutely beautiful ! Deb is not so excited. To me, it is the most beautiful view of the walk :-)

Speaking of dogs... We do pass a few people, other walkers, some cyclists. Lots of the walkers have dogs. Dogs are welcome everywhere in England. This area seems to be an ideal place for dogs.

Pub Lunch in Washington: damp and cool -- but that's just us

We take the minor detour to the village of Washington. It's half way along today's walk, almost on our track, last night's b&b does not provide a packed lunch. It all adds up to, pub lunch today :-) A good day for it, too. It's not a good day for sitting on wet grass to eat sandwiches.

The track down to the village is steep and wet and muddy. A bit slippery, we walk carefully. I can feel my shoes getting heavier with mud... But the mud is not clingy and soon comes off.

We reach Washington. The pub is on the far side of the village, we ask for directions.

We eat lunch in the Frankland Arms. Jacket potatoes with cheese, I also have beans. It comes with enough butter even for me. I wanted a reasonably hearty lunch so we are not too hungry at the end of the day. ie To give us a warm food boost in the middle of the day.

We are damp, all our clothes are damp. My shirt could be classed as "wet". It's nice to be sitting inside but English pubs do run cool... Ah well... It's especially nice to eat lunch inside and sitting on proper chairs! The food is good. I have extra sugar in my tea. (I've gone back to sugar -- in varying amounts -- in my tea and coffee. It helps me survive the cold.)

Back to the Way. Feeling satisfied after lunch.

We're walking about as fast as ever. (Which is not particularly fast. Though we did actually overtake one hiker today.) We're tired but no more tired than on previous days. It's a steady pace so we don't wear ourselves out.

We Walk in the Mist: and almost see a circle of trees

It's not really raining though the mist is sometimes quite damp. As the afternoon goes on the mist gets thicker. We never see any of the advertised views. Visibiliity ranges from 20 metres to a few hundred metres... Except for three or four minutes when we can see for several kilometres -- to the cloud coming closer.

It's a very pleasant walk but not for the views :-)

We pass a circle of trees, on a raised earth circle. It's misty, it's almost raining, there are trees... Okay, the circle is prehistoric, the trees were significant. The main interest to us is that the established trees were knocked down by the storms of 1993 (or 83? or 87??)... Must look up the record of those storms!

There are two people sitting at the edge of the trees. Almost hidden in the mist. Eating their lunch. English, I guess :-)

Five minutes past the circle, the clouds clear and the sun shines! We can see distant valley views! We can see the clouds returning... Five minutes later and we are again walking in mist. Which seems to grow thicker as the afternoon goes on.

Not that we're complaining! It's all part of the English walking experience :-)

Pig Farm! Brilliant! I'd Pay to See it All Again!

Today, all my Royal Shows come at once!

Each year I try to go to the Royal Agricultural Society Spring Show... It's a fun fair. With animal and other attractions. My favourite exhibit is the pigs. Hulking great sows with a dozen or more piglets hanging off each of the sows. So huge, so not very cute, so uncaring of human attention... so different from every other animal on display :-)

Today we pass an entire farm of free range pigs... Hundreds of pigs! Brilliant !!

First there is the sign: Do not feed the pigs. Okay, there must be pigs. We walk on.

There are ten or twenty smallish pigs behind an electric wire. Will that keep them in? Then we notice a second wire, almost at ground level. Okay, they will feel that -- on their noses -- when they root around, that'll keep them in. And yes, they are rooting around in the mud. And the signs of rooting stop at the electric wire.

So there is a pen of pigs.

And beyond that, another pen. And another... and... There must be 50 to a hundred pig pens! At least! Many are empty. Most are occupied by pigs, of varying sizes. Perhaps each pen has a single litter? Ten to twenty pigs with plenty of room to roam.

And all the pigs are doing what pigs do: digging in the earth, turning earth to mud, sleeping in the mud. Poking their head -- and half their body -- into the feed bins, eating whatever has been provided. It's brilliant ! Even Deb is impressed: we are both glad that we are seeing the pig farm!

And on the other side of the track... the boars. There's a heavy mist. So what we see is an enormous creature. Scary, piggy. Half seen through the mist. Ten? Twenty? Who knows! Boars looming through the dark mist, looking like monsters from a fairy tale. Each boar in it's separate pen. And sows... even bigger... enormous! Also looming like monsters in the mist...

And further down: rows of a hundred or more small sheds. Farrowing pens? Each with a sow and a few visible piglets. And a single pen -- that we can see -- of angry young boars. Boars which have recently become troublesome teenagers. And who have just heard that their next trip is to the sausage factory...

It's amazing! Real free range pigs. Hundreds of them! Absolutely fascinating! All my Royal Shows have come at once :-)  I would happily pay to see it all again :-)

The rest of the day's walk is okay...

Dinner -- and its Consequences

The accommodation at Upper Beeding is very nice. More spacious (in our room) than most. All sorts of little unexpected extras. I would say, a very professional establishment -- and I mean that is a positive sense.

For dinner we go to the Kings Head. I'm getting a bit tired of "fancy" food so I order Cumberland sausages. Very nice. Just a little bit fancy -- no mash, no onion gravy :-(

We're going to share a dessert so Deb stays seated while I read the blackboard menu. I'm staring past four diners. One says, The treacle pudding is good. I say, As I stood up my wife said, as long as it's not treacle pudding again! We all chuckle. I go off and order the treacle pudding. Deb does ask, what else was there? I just didn't notice... And of course the pudding -- with real custard -- is good :-) Even Deb says so.

Do not read any further!

At least, those who would like to think of us as sensible, polite adults, may wish to not read the rest of this post. Those who are easily offended by bodily functions may also wish to stop reading...

We are walking home. I think, no use saving "this" for inside our b&b. I say to Deb, I'm afraid I'm going to fart. And I do... Deb's response is to laugh. Louder laughing, as I fart again. Deb laughing starts me laughing... and, with my cold, that makes me cough and choke...

Stop laughing, I gasp at Deb, I can't breathe!

Deb tries to stop laughing. Until we reach the b&b and I realise, it's no use taking all this inside... and say, sorry... and fart again... Deb laughs, I laugh, I choke...

Ah well. We survive... :-)

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Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
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"The greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing." — William Arthur Ward.
   

2016-05-10 Tuesday: walking South Harting to Amberley

Headlines

Our Longest Walk (we cheat and only walk 33km)
A Gloomy Start: very pleasant until it all goes uphill
Damp and Tedious: including lunch between showers
Let the Sun Shine In !
Even Dinner is a Long Walk Away

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Stream of Consciousness

Our Longest Walk (we cheat, and only walk 33km)

We start with the usual hearty breakfast. Even Deb has selected the "full English breakfast". I've taken to starting with sugar coated cereal (for the sugar) with yoghurt (because I like the combination). Plus toast and marmalade.

Plus... toast and granulated honey. Granulated! For years I've preferred crystallised honey because it stays on the bread (or toast). When I search the web for, How to make crystallised honey, all I get is ways to return it to being runny. "Granulated" -- crystallised -- honey is sold in England. Perhaps a search for "how to make granulated honey" will turn up some sensible responses.

We have organised with the b&b hostess to get a lift to just the other side of the village, South Harting. We pack, we prepare, we are dropped at the carpark on the far side of Tower Hill. A kilometre or two saved! We agree that it's worth it on this, our longest day of walking.

A Gloomy Start: very pleasant until it all goes uphill

It's not so much raining, as, we're up in the clouds. With occasional spots of rain. We find the South Downs Way -- where it runs across Harting Down. Several people out walking their dogs. Visibility about as far as you could throw a stick for a dog. It's actually quite pleasant for walking, though there is no view.

As I read the signs that name the area as Harting Down it finally sinks home: there are quite a few named downs. So, I realise, that's why they are called the South Downs! Plural ! Learn something every day... Sometimes quite slowly :-)

We reach Beacon Hill. And start to climb.

All of a sudden we are hot. Too hot. And tired.

For walking I wear shorts. Very comfortable. Not too hot. On top I wear a woolen thermal and a thin hiking shirt. Both are anywhere from damp to soaking wet, from sweat, once I start walking... especially up hill. The thermal is wool, so it doesn't get too chilly -- unless a cold wind blows. With a less cold wind I will dry out. Eventually.

Today I have a raincoat on top of all that. Which means -- I get very hot, very quickly. So I spend the entire day wearing a wet shirt and thermal. There's just enough cool wind so that I don't want to remove the raincoat, even when it stops raining...

This will be a very uncomfortable day!

Later: In truth, not so uncomfortable. Just continually wet and tired!

So we climb Beacon Hill. That sets the standard for the day.

Damp and Tedious: including lunch between showers

A few hours of walking. Deb says, This is tedious. It is, too.

There's the mist, all morning. There's the rain, intermittent -- very light -- showers, all morning.

For several hours we tramp along, feeling damp. And feeling tedium. There are several reasons for this:

1. It is damp. Some rain. All damp.
2. The mist and rain block the view. Sometimes we can see 100m. We never get to see any broad distances.
3. When it rains, we put up the hoods on our raincoats. Which means that we don't see much to either side.
4. We spend a long long time walking along a very straight track -- with tall hedges on either side. Tall hedges which block our views to the side.
5. We know that this is the longest -- by far -- day of our walk. Which means that we can't just sit and rest, or dawdle along. We need to keep on moving.
6. And I haven't even mentioned... Deb and I both have colds :-(

For almost a week I've been bravely fighting a cold. Today, it has almost peaked. Deb is just a couple of day behind in the cold war race, today she has started to feel rotten. Admittedly, walking in the fresh (and very fresh) outside air makes most of the symptoms disappear. But having a cold does add to the feelings of... tedium. Not that we complain, of course :-)

There are bronze age barrows off to the left. We look at them over the fence, definitely barrow shaped. From a distancce, much the same as the iron age barrow we saw the other day. I wonder, When these people were carting stones for their barrows did they ever wish that they had built the wheel barrow first?

Just a bit further and we stop for morning tea of bananas. We're in a pleasant forest area, sitting on logs.

We stop for lunch. Sandwiches between light showers of rain. Sitting on the wet grass beside the track. A couple with their dog walk by. The dog comes over to say hello. When he leaves we notice that the dropped crust of bread has also gone.

Every so often I check the time and distance. Then calculate -- at that rate -- what time we will reach Amberley. When the estimate reaches 5:30pm... I relax.

Let the Sun Shine In !

It's now afternoon. The weather is gradually improving. There is even sunshine! And I now know that we can reach our destination by a reasonable time... All is good :-)

We are near a Roman villa. We don't see the villa but we are walking along an old Roman road. It has clearly been cobble-stoned. The stones are a bit uneven by now but the path is still distinctly different to the rest of the Way.

For afternoon tea -- a packet of chips, each -- we sit on a solid seat with a nice view. (Deb tells me it had a nice view, I can't remember. A view all the way to the Idle of Wight. I do remember seeing the Idle of Wight.) (What's dirty, brown and comes steaming out of Cowes? The Isle of Wight ferry. Baboom!) A passing cyclist asks, Are we okay? We nod and smile. Perhaps we do look a bit tired :-)

Towards the end of the day... cross a busy road, start a very long downhill walk. Even downhill can be tiring at the end of a long day! The highlight of this section is, for me, seeing a rat run across a pile of silage :-) Though it may be the rare and endangered silage vole... or possibly not.

Then we are on a flat section that zig zags across the flood plain for the river Arun. Nothing much that sticks in the mind, just a series of straight lines and right angle turns along the edge of a field. And a foot bridge.

We arrive! Up a hill, beside a busy road, along a narrow footpath, past a school... up another short hill... and we arrive at The Thatched House.

Which is not thatched. The building spent several hundred years reincarnated as an ale house... called The Thatch House. It may have been the last ale house in England? Now, after conversion to a house and three owners, the name remains.

Here's a late thought: It's now Thatched House. I'm sure the owner referred to the pub as Thatch House, no "ed" on the end of "Thatch". Perhaps the pub was named for the building's earlier purpose, to store thatch? Never "thatched", just the house in which thatch was stored.

The owners are as friendly and welcoming as all that we have met. With the added bonus of tea and cake and scones on arrival :-) The house is crowded with knick knacks, many with a dog theme... There is a real corgi.

We collapse.

Then walk out to dinner.

Even Dinner is a Long Walk Away

There are two pubs in town but the nearer one is closed, for the short-term. The other one is... a long walk away! Past some fields. Into the next village, it seems.

Neither of us is particularly hungry. Just one course each. And I help Deb eat her one course. We do spot some deer on the flood area way below... but lack the energy to be enthusiastic.

We are sitting by the door. By the open door. The open door to the outside. Sure, there are people actually eating outside. But they are English...

We walk back... Luckily it's a slight downhill slope.

Home, sleep. No energy to write a journal entry...

And even later:

Deb wakes up to go to the toilet. It's down a passage outside our room. The house is all dark. Deb tries to open the wrong door. Can't find the toilet. Decides to go back and ask me for help. Can't find our bedroom... Luckily finds a torch and everything is now easy.

For me, I go to bed knowing that I will wake up in the dark and want to go to the toilet. So I check where everything is. I have no trouble. I even know where several torches are stashed... Of course I don't need them :-)

And now... it being "tomorrow" I have run out of time to write "tomorrow's" journal while it is still today. Oh well, I'll write today when it's yesterday.

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Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
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"The greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing." — William Arthur Ward.
   

2016-05-09 Monday: walking Exton to South Harting

Headlines

A Lift to Exton
Butser Hill: high point on the Downs or low point in humour?
More Hills, More Walking
Arriving in South Harting: the walk instructions don't help
Rain Settles In, We Dine Out
Late Addition: orphan lambs keep Deb awake

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Stream of Consciousness

This may be a short entry... it's been a long day !

A Lift to Exton

Breakfast at the b&b, excellent. We say goodbye to the two blokes who are also walking the Way. Then our b&b hostess gives us a lift to the village, back to the South Downs Way. It's part of the b&b deal, to save a walk along a busy road.

We're starting perhaps 45 minutes ahead of the other two. Our walk for today is longer, they are taking an extra day overall.

There's one other person just ahead of us. We call him Mr Red Backpack. He takes a few shortcuts, he pauses, we pause... We occasionally overtake each other, though our paces are about the same. When we stop to eat lunch, he gets ahead and we don't see him again.

We stop for lunch on the edge of Meon Springs (I think that's the name, Meon Something, anyway). Sitting at the edge of the track, sheltered from the wind. The day is pleasantly warm for walking -- but the wind makes it too cold for comfort.

As we eat lunch, Mr Red Backpack passes by. Then a couple of dogs arrive, one barks in surprise at seeing us and won't pass... Till his owner rides up, and apologises for disturbing our peaceful rest. Then a large tractor drives up -- towing a large concrete roller -- and wants to pass. We definitely have to abandon our peaceful rest.

Butser Hill: high point on the Downs or low point in humour?

So we walk along the South Downs Way. It's scenic. It's pleasant. It's 27km that we have to walk today.

We reach Butser Hill. It's said to be the highest point in the South Downs. Also the original starting point of the Way, before it was extended to Winchester. I say, Why didn't we walk it before it was extended?

Great views from near the top... We don't go off the Way to reach the actual top. Then a long grass slope down to the A3, a busy, noisy road that we have to go under.

Mt Butser, we read, is a Marilyn-type hill. Which means that it drops at least 500ft (I think) on every side. So a Marilyn hill stands out clearly from the rest. Named with reference to the similar Munros, apparently...

More Hills, More Walking

We walk past various named points, various unidentified points, several geocaches. We find a few geocaches but walk past -- without noticing -- quite a few others.

It's rolling countryside. Lots of farms, quite a few woods. Plenty of good views. The weather is good for views. We see all the way to Portsmouth... again. Today, we recognise what we are seeing.

After Butser there's the Queen Elizabeth Country Park. Forests and trails for hikers and mountain bikers. We stop at the cafe for coffee. And there are the two from this morning -- caught up with us. They will be picked up from the QE Park, once they can get someone to answer their phone calls. We have another eight km to walk. Starting through the Park.

We meet a woman walking the other way. She asks, can she drink a bit of her water? She set off for a quick walk -- but kept meeting people and talking to them. And is now exceedingly thirsty. We give her one of our small water bottles. We had filled up at the Park cafe. Our good deed for the day :-)

Arriving in South Harting: the walk instructions don't help

We pass a school. Soon, we have to turn off for the Copper Beeches b&b. The company's instructions say to "Head along the farm track past Sunwood Farm". There are no farm names. We come to a road that is shown -- in the guide book, supplied by the company -- as "to Copper Beeches b&b". We follow the road...

Did we miss Sunwood Farm? Should we have gone past the road in the guide book?? Who knows... [Later: We did reach Sunwood Farm. We should have kept on walking.]

We walk quite a long way along a winding road. Constantly being passed by cars, carrying children home from the school that we passed earlier. Then we are passed by school buses. Unpleasant, on a one lane road. Then we turn onto a two lane road. And are passed by high speed traffic. Not pleasant. [Later: It didn't add much to the distance. Just took us along busy roads instead of through fields.]

Rain is just starting to spit down.

We find the b&b. But only because I have it as a waypoint in the GPS.

Rain Settles In, We Dine Out

The rain comes and goes. It looks as though it could come again. The forecast says that it will be raining all tomorrow.

We have arranged to be taken to the village for dinner, at six o'clock. It's now 5:30 -- time to get ready. That is, time for me to get ready. Deb is already ready.

Later: We eat at the White Hart Inn. Very flash. My guinea fowl is okay but too much flavour. I order plain bread to go with it -- that works. For dessert I have something fancy based on banana and popcorn. Very -- as Deb says -- very Master Chef. It actually works! Delicious :-)

The b&b people pick us up after dinner, after they have been out checking the lambing ewes. We arrange for them to drop us off tomorrow, on the Way just past the village. That will save us a couple of kilometres on a very loooong day... Every little helps !

Late Addition: orphan lambs keep Deb awake

We hear bleating from ... somewhere. We go downstairs to talk with the b&b hostess. We find the lambs: two orphan lambs in a small pen in the kitchen.

The b&b owners run small number of sheep on (as I understand it) other people's properties. On small bits of land that are too much bother for a large-scale farmer. It's now lambing season. There are regular checks on each sheep paddock. And occasional lambs to be brought home for TLC. One of the current home lambs is a bleater... Deb kept hearing it, all night... she says.

In the back garden we see some ducks. There are hens and a turkey, though they are out of sight, sheltering from the rain. The turkey, we're told, has just hatched five chicks :-)  As they grow larger the chicks will, we are told, be a real nuisance. Until Christmas...

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Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
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"The greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing." — William Arthur Ward.