FROM AD TO HRVATSKA

I've been a bit quiet this week.  I'm off to Dubrovnik at the crack of dawn tomorrow to take a group walking in the hills above the city and I had to research quite a lot about the place before I go.

So how have I been relaxing?  This week I've been listening to Arrested Development.  Here's some for you:

This is almost a psalm or maybe a hymn.

And this is so relaxing . . . even if you don't listen to the words.

And of course - still one of favourite songs of all time . . .

 

That's Dionne Farris with the female vocals.  Mmmm.

ONE CHILLY, BLUSTERY MORNING IN MARCH

Wayfarers Walk 6

After a good night at the Swan and a full English early the next morning, the landlord kindly drove us up to the the car park where the previous day's walk had putatively ended.  We were grateful to avoid the climb on foot.  You can see how remote the car park is.  Fine views though . . .

We then set off along the ridge of the hills.  It was clear that this was Newbury racecourse country.

As if further proof were needed.

The footpath then led over Watership Down. 

Not a very interesting scene, especially since the wind was now distinctly blustery and chilly and all the rabbits were presumably nestled in their warren.  After the downs, the path led up to some lovely old beeches.

After which it became distinctly bleak and the wind even more penetrating.

 

We paused only to lay our stones on the cairn.

When we did eventually come into the shelter of some trees, it was clear they had suffered in the winter storms.

After a pleasant walk through a short dale, we were supposed to follow the footpath and run across the notorious A34.

We elected to take a detour along a permissive path and through a farmer's underpass, although it looks as though the flood waters would have prevented this a week or so ago.

Safely on the other side, we now we came across this memorial stone.

Back over the hill, the path led through a pleasant hazel grove.

Where we passed the castellated entrance to Highclere Castle, the home used as Downton Abbey.

The views were quite extraordinary along the whole of the day's walk.  The countryside appeared to stretch for 30 odd miles in almost every direction without a sign of any townships.

Finding a spot out of the wind (and no pub!), we stopped for a short break to eat sandwiches.

 

We passed through the highest point of the Wayfarers Walk (about 260m) and now in Berkshire, just after this.  Strangely, in this remote spot, there had once been a house - now just a chimney stack.

Although maybe not so strange - here was a new house, in glorious isolation.

Where do they go, if they run out of Sugar Puffs?  Or, worse, Marmite?  From here, the beacon was becoming visible.  Some horses on the hillside.

A vehicle gate with horse access.  I don't think I had seen one of these before.

But before emerging from the woodland, we had one further obstacle to negotiate.

And then we were there.  But where?  There were no signs, no structures of any kind, apart from this seat.  (And no champagne either, if you look closely!)

 

 And no signs of life apart from the sheep.

 

But our taxi soon arrived to take us, chilled to the marrow, but triumphant, to the nearest rail station for the journey home and on to our next adventure.

(to be continued)

AT OUR WHITLEY'S END

With the prospect of a reasonably fine day last week, I had an outing with one of the local ramblers groups.  We started from the White Hart at Whitley.  The pub has 17th century bits but I believe the original parts are 14th century.

And although it didn't rain until later, the signs of recent storms were all around.

 And we had to take a detour at this path (just as it started to rain!).

 

Some liked the water better than others.

 

I guess the golfers didn't like this much on the 4th green and 5th tee.

 

When the sun was out, the woodlands were beautiful.

 

I haven't posted any pornographic trees for a while, so here are a couple from this walk.

And there were stunning views across the Surrey countryside

with some pretty little cottages.

The Dog and Pheasant is a lovely pub, I suspect mostly 16th century, now a popular foodie restaurant.  We sat in the garden though and ate our sandwiches.

The footpath is hard to miss on the hill down the other side.  But it was perversely the hardest part of the walk, being wet and slippery and at a rather unhelpful angle.

We are blessed with snowdrops almost everywhere at the moment.

And then we were back in the old village of Whitley, with its historic cottages.

A nice example of the local pointing style called 'galletting'.

WORTH WALKING

Went on my first walk of the year today.  Started at Byworth, near Petworth.  'Worth', you might like to know, is from the old English for enclosure, so we skirted Pet's and By's enclosures.

This is Byworth

And, after all the recent rain, this is how the countryside now looks.

We met some horses

and had clear views of the South Downs.

Just took this because I thought it looked nice with the trees and clouds.

Here we all are walking up the lane back to Byworth,

followed by a descent through one of those gullies of which there seem to be many on the Surrey Hills.

And here we are back at the Black Horse, an almost untouched 16th century inn, for lunch.

CHARLIE WILDGOOSE

Charlie Wildgoose 1950 - 2013

Dad, Charlie Wildgoose, passed away peacefully in hospital this afternoon, surrounded by his family. He was 63 years old.

We will all miss so many things about him, but at the moment it is hard to imagine logging on to a computer and not seeing the latest write-up of one of his walks, which were so enjoyed by his friends near and far - or pages from our ancestor, John Bayliff Bowman's 1870 Farm Journal, the most recent of which featured John describing the death of his own father all those many years ago. It's a beautiful entry and Dad was hugely excited about getting to it in his regular updates - going so far as to show me the actual journals themselves just last week - the first time I'd actually seen the original volumes. Dad loved to write, and was delighted that his blog and his photos were enjoyed, and that they brought Derbyshire and the countryside he loved so much to a wider audience. Dad could see something special everywhere he looked in the land around here, it was a truly remarkable thing.

Although Dad had been ill for a few years with advanced prostate cancer; his courage in dealing with his illness, his good humour, and his genuine ability to live each day to the fullest, made it easy to forget he was ill at all. It is a great comfort to think back on these times and remember Dad as he always was: a man who loved his friends, his family and the countryside - and who was in turn greatly loved back.

He was my father and my oldest friend. I miss him.

Jamie 

SECRET PARK

It's maybe not so secret to folks who live/work in Croydon, but I had never heard of Tilford Park before we met the grandchildren there at the weekend.  Getting to it involved driving through a seemingly huge estate.  That's probably why I had never found it before.

It had lots of the sort of wild parkland that kids love

 and some cultivated parts that were equally fun.  I think someone's been cheating in this maze.

There was also a small zoo with the sorts of animals that kids enjoy watching.  But, as if to emphasize the secrecy of the place, MI5 seemed to have posted some mysterious code messages around the place.
 

 

I wonder what it means.

Since spending a couple of days with the kids, I have been fighting to throw off an incipient cold.  Why is it that kids are so contagious, yet seem not to get so ill themselves?  Anyway, I'm trying to walk it off.  Tomorrow I go on my third 10 mile walk this week.

In between, I am dosing myself up with Marmite, coffee and honey.  And look what I have just been sent!

 

That should knock any germs on the head.