Walton Heath - The Duke's Head

Morels? - Who Gives a Shitake!!

Tuesday: 21 September

Walkers: Farty, T.B., 12 legs, Registrara, Clat and her sister Judy, & Monica the Richardson - we need walking names for these two, and welcome to the group.

Mrs P on the M1 somewhere, returning her young man to Uni, and Windy packing for her holidays. Sally - busy!

Find of the walk: a blue pair of men's underpants (slightly stained - don't go there)

Distance: 71/2 miles

Weather: gorgeous

Once assembled, and introductions, food exchanges etc., over with, we set off across the tip of Banstead Heath. Within minutes we passed a muscly man , limping in his singlet and shorts, looking quite uncomfortable, and we lost Sue to his charms. Apparently, he loves poodles (what, for lunch, or otherwise?) the latter it seems, but she managed to extricate herself and it wasn't long before we stopped again.

Amanita

A fabulous 'fairy wood' of mushrooms appeared - the red sort, with white spots , and more and more varieties were soon to be found - inkspots, shaggy wotsits, flatcaps - all probably poisonous, but amazing to behold. In fact, throughout our walk, fungi and toadstools of all kinds were on offer - so if you want to lose a kidney or two, have some for breakfast!

We came to the Sportsman pub, where 8 legs had a quick refreshment, and then onwards and across the golf course - none of us got hit, even though there were plenty of players having their greens.

Over the M25 we tarried - and through some woods before coming out to a wonderful view over the southern valleys and Box Hill to one side. This meant going downwards a little, and then upwards once more as we headed towards the Dorking Road, and over into a field or two. the m25 was crossed once more, and eventually we came to a small village green where huge quantities of damsons were waiting for us to pick them. We descended like a horde of locusts, bags in hand, and soon had enough for some serious jelly-making.

We also picked some conkers - brilliant for keeping spiders at bay in your homes, folks.

'Steve Carter' Veterinary Surgeon

The path led us into Walton on the Hill, where we stopped at a little butchers shop (eatmymeat.co.uk) ha ha ha, and purchases were made. Other shops we passed, have recently changed hands, and one had a window full of cake - among which was an enormous cupcake -this was completely understandable judging by the size of the owner. Time was pressing, so we cut across the Heath once more for our return to the pub - and foood. Along the route, T.B. had a change of identity, and emerged as Steve Carter - veterinary surgeon (well, that's what it said on his badge) - obviously the training is much quicker these days. However, Farty managed to lose her glasses along this stretch, which she usually pokes down her cleavage - some of us do not have this facility.

We said our good-byes at this point to Registrara and Monica as they had stuff to do.

The pub is looking fabulous, and the hanging baskets are truly a sight to behold. The landlady (who rather likes T.B.) told us the secret is to drip feed them and would T.B. send her his pics - hmmmmm. Another tip - Farty says you can achieve drip feed by placing frozen bottle of water on the top of basket every morning - simples. A rather worrying moment occurred, when a young lady at the bar, produced a human head from her handbag, but we think she was only a practising hairdresser. Another 'moment' occurred, when Steve Carter discovered a crop circle on his face - which he blamed on his new shaver - must be a vet thing, then.

A lot of ham egg and chips action today , which was excellent. The other dishes were very good too. Here are our scores Food - 5, value - 4 (drinks are expensive), service - 5, ambulance - 5, so 19/20 - we shall be back.

Next week - Tues 28th - we are probably going to try Bletchingley - The Whyte Harte, yet again, to attempt Walk number IV - the possibilities are endless. See you there, then.

High Hurstwood, The Hurstwood Pub

Getting our legs over some lovely ribbed wood!


Venue: , High Hurstwood, East Sussex

Walkers: Windy Nohills, Polly Possibly/Polly Pram (Perambulator, Farty's new name for her!), Mrs Provincial and . . .

Non Walker: Fat Pammy! Now known as Pub Organiser . . . . .

Weather: Low cloud, threatening to rain, but fortunately for all held off until later

Distance: 6 1/2 miles

Time taken: 2 hrs 45

Pluses: Beautiful scenery, lovely houses to gawp at, really quiet as no road noise at all and we didn't meet any other walkers, railways and rivers for Ms Nohills, excellent ribbed stiles! lovely, newly refurbished pub with great grub.

Minuses: Well, it would have been perfect if only the sun had shone . . . oh, and some poor sineage at the end of the walk


Find of the Walk: a beautiful red mushroom in a wood full of them








We convened at the Hurstwood Pub, Polly P's local and after doing the now obligatory W.I.bit from the back of our car (Wend's legendary bramleys, Polly P's magazines and Mrs P's car boot finds), set off pretty much on time.

The first part of the walk took us up a pretty lane with some equally pretty houses and then off onto the Vanguard Way for a short while. Next we entered the High Hurstwood Nature Reserve - well, it was a field really but according to my notes is most certainly a nature reserve, so who are we to argue?! We then continued towards the viaduct for the Uckfield Express line - very attractive but not quite in the same league as Balcombe. Miss Nohills was very happy but unfortunately we couldn't provide a train for her to wave at! Loads of lovely blackberries so we had a pit stop and started picking - and eating, yum!

The walk crissed crossed lots of small rivers, some tributaries of the River Uck, where Wend spied a largish fish - apparently the rivers here are ideal habitat for brown trout. One of the steams had a lovely waterfall - sorry if the picture is rather dark but gives you an idea. Wend got quite carried away at one point and thought that the collection of branches in the water could be beaver dams . . we reckon that all that fresh air and oxygen is going to our heads - oh dear!

Lots of the streams on the walk were a very reddish colour which indicates that the ground contains a lot of iron - the Weald was the main iron producing area in Britain in Roman times and again during Tudor and early Stuart times. Here endeth the history lesson.

We then arrived at Howbourne Farm and Oast and walked around the edge of their garden by the tennis courts, over the River Uck and into the lane. Up the lane and then skirted around another house and into more fields. Yours truly fell in love at this point and decided to order Pickfords removals immediately - this is the house for her! (we just need to tell the present owners . .) Just beautiful and with the most stunning views over the fields and Uck valley towards Crowborough.

Lots of wildlife - Eagle eyed Polly spied some deer bounding through a field, there were lots of badger setts in the woods, bunnies galore and a field full of magpies which sent me bowing and saluting - well, didn't want to tempt fate and bring bad luck on the walk!

We then found the Find of the Walk - firstly, a lovely red mushroom but then we noticed that the wood was covered with them - just glorious, it was like being in the enchanted forest. PP was very relieved that this could now be The Find as up to then all we had found was a dead rat and a pretty disgusting discarded handkie!

Lots of stiles on this walk, most of them very well maintained and I obviously got very carried away as going over one particular ribbed specimen was heard to exclaim "oh, what a lovely stile". Wend and PP dissolved into hysterics, convinced that I had totally lost the plot . . how right they are! How sad, a good ribbed stile is all it takes to make this particular girl happy.

A couple of miles from the pub the sineage finally let us down, and we must have taken a wrong turn as the expected footpath was much further up a lane than we thought. No problem though, we were soon back on track helped by PP who recognised where we were. So she has been walking before . . . We passed by some amazing rocks (see photo) which are actually in someone's garden. PP is trying to angle an invite to visit the owners so she can have a gawp at the house - as you can see from the photo it looks rather lovely. The rocks are part of the sandstone seam that runs from Tunbridge Wells through this part of the Weald, and were once inhabited by a hermit. Here endeth the geology lesson.

Our wonderful local Pub Organiser, Fat Pammy was already ensconced at the pub and texting us for our drinks orders - what a star, we'll forgive her for not walking. The pub has been newly refurbished after being bought by a wealthy local resident who owns one of Uckfield's major companies. The pub had been pretty grotty beforehand and after the last landlord committed suicide (it wasn't that bad), developers had been trying to buy it to knock down and build a number of new homes. So the local hero came to the rescue to save it for the village and what a great job he's done - it scored almost 20. As we can't do a 20, we marked it down on the garnish on the butternut squash soup which contained some attractive but inedible pumpkin seeds!

Next walk ? No doubt Clatters and/or Mon will be in touch. Sorry, can't be there as we're taking Mikey back to uni but hope to see you all the week after.

xxxxxx

Isfield, the Royal Oak, Barcombe

An a-moo-ousing walk in the provinces - and Polly Possibly becomes Polly Probably!

Venue: We met at Mrs P's gaff in Isfield, and started the walk from the village cricket green to join the river Ouse. We planned to lunch at the Anchor at Barcombe on the way back as it is only 20 mins into the walk from the start point.

Walkers: Amazingly, Polly Possibly - now re-christened Polly Probably!, Windy Nohills and Mrs Provincial. Our friend, Fat Pammy, had to cry off at last minute as had to go into work for a couple of hours, but she joined us for lunch ( and coffee . . . and drinks after . . .)




Distance: About 7 1/2 miles - not bad for a novice walker!

Time taken: ages! 5 hours in total, but the first incident took about 45 mins, and we stopped for lunch for about an hour, plus a mid morning break.

Weather: Rain forecast and it did rain while we were having our coffee before setting off, but remained cloudy until after lunch when the sun almost broke through. All in all, a lovely day for walking as the temperature was just right, not too hot or cold and most importantly, dry.

Find of the walk: a child's fleece jumper

Having spent a very pleasant hour drinking coffee at my place, we decided couldn't put off the inevitable any longer so set off for the village green and headed down to the river Ouse. As you can see from the photos, it really is a very pretty walk as the river meanders (Ms Nohills loves that word) down towards Lewes and the coast. However, we soon realised that this would not be a good walk for Chris as every field contained cows of all sorts of size and age! We soon came across a herd of mums and very cute and quite young babies (cows, not people!) and while debating how to best negotiate our way round them, to our horror one of the calves lost his footing and slid into the river. Panic stations all round - the poor calf desperately tried to get back up the bank but just couldn't make it. We looked on in horror feeling quite helpless - we thought about trying to hoist it out but there was no way we could get near it and anyway would no doubt have ended up in the river too. So I decided to leg it to the pub which was only about 5 mins away (well, I did run!) to try to get help and to see if they knew who the farmer was who owned the cows. Unfortunately, they didn't know, but said it has happened before and the fire brigade would have to be called. One of the young barmaids grabbed a piece of webbing and came back to try to help but just as we got back to the others, mercifully Polly had come to the rescue and had somehow managed to cajole the calf further up the river where it finally managed to struggle out. Massive relief all round! And this was only 20 mins into the walk . . .

We then wondered if fate was conspiring against us, as our barmaid then informed us that the pub was unable to serve food that day (despite me ringing the day before to check) as they had a problem in their kitchens . . not half as big a problem as we had as there wasn't another pub in the vicinity! So, we continued with the walk whilst yours truly did a bit of thinking on the hoof - haha! - and decided the only option was to do an "add on" half way round to the only other possible pub (didn't dare tell PP, had promised to be gentle with her today!)

The next field of cows presented yet another problem - while sussing them out we noticed that one was considerably larger than the others - oh no, it was a bull and a massive one at that! Was someone trying to tell us something? Personally, I reckon PP had set these diversions up on purpose . . we really didn't fancy having to turn back so ended up doing another big diversion, tiptoeing around the outside of the field hoping the bull wouldn't notice - mercifully, he didn't. After all this excitiment we took a break and sat down by the river and then noticed that we were surrounded by and almost sitting in cowpats - so that explained the whiff, nothing to do with our close encounter with a bull . . .

The river then leads to Barcombe Mills where we crossed the toll bridge - the signs give you the history of the bridge. It's such a pretty place too and very popular with anglers.

We then joined the road and having rung Fat Pam to tell her our change of plans, set off on our add-on. Suddenly, cries of "car" - and who should whizz round the corner like Delboy and Rodney to the rescue but Fat Pam! However, we all declined offers of a lift and sent her on to the pub - the Royal Oak at Barcombe - where she ordered for us as last orders were at 1.45 - in 10 mins time. We desperately needed the drink that awaited and scoffed our sandwiches and regaled FP with the story of the rescue - much hilarity all round. The pub scored OK - not a very smart pub but welcoming, and their cheesy chips were just fab. Ambiance spoiled somewhat by an extremely irritating barking dog whose owner had not a clue as to how to shut him up. A number of suggestions came from our table!

So Fat Pam left us again (that's an easy way of walking, methinks!) and we headed back - but this time to try to save time and distance your truly had to do a bit of off-piste navigating. I now know how stressful it is leading everyone, particularly when this part was completely unplanned. However, the waymarkers all around here are excellent and easy to follow although I did keep checking on the trusty compass.

As the clouds started to clear, the views were absolutely beautiful and we could see the Downs very clearly. At one point we crossed the old roman road and PP and Miss Nohills tried to sound interested when it was pointed out - I think they were expecting to see legions of hunky roman soldiers. No chance! Lots of wildlife - we caught sight of a kestrel and a buzzard (in his thermals again), bunnies and a field of grouse. As ever, some gorgeous houses which PP had a great time gawping. We even managed to do some scrumping - sweetcorn this time - and followed Farty's advice of picking the ones with the dark beard!

So,by some miracle we actually ended up back at the village green - only a little bit weary but having had an eventful but lovely day. All back to my place where Fat Pam once again turned up - are you sensing a pattern? and gin and tonics and wine all round sitting outside in the garden. How civilised!

PP assures me that she did really enjoy herself and would like to come again - so I'll call her bluff and drag her out again next week! so I'll let you all know what us lot in the Provinces have planned.

Have a good week!

xxx

Chipstead Bottom - the Ramblers Rest

Fores and afters

Wednesday 8th September
Venue :The Ramblers Rest pub
Walkers: Farty and Clatchat - a rambling duo
Distance: 8 miles
Find of the walk: a golfball

Weather: very muggy (no, it's wednesday - ha ha ) and humid. Rain threatened, but never arrived, watery sunshine towards the end.

After discovering we had parked at opposite ends of the car park, Clat and Farty were re- united and ready for walking. This is known territory for Farty, as it's where she comes to check the cows. So, we started off in the cow field, only to discover they were not there - or were they hiding? This area is, and has been, abundant in wild flowers, so must have been fabulous at one time. I would say 'close your eyes and picture this walk, as we have no photos', but then you wouldn't be able to read the blog.

Over the railway crossing we then went, and downhill and through some lovely wooded walking areas - so still, and so quiet, and many mushrooms to be had - I went out with a mushroom once, he seemed like a really fun guy (fungi - gettit?). It felt misty and damp, so we checked our trousers, and continued................ We came across a track, and found it bedecked with fabulous blackberry bushes, so we stopped and picked, and munched for a while.

At Canons Farm we hung a left, and headed along and towards the Legal & General Offices, where works were in progress. The waymarkers hadn't been diverted or covered, so we pressed on, into the works. Here, we were approached by a tall Irishman, resplendent in hard hat and donkey jacket, more or less asking us what we were doing there. Immediately Farty and Clat went on the offence, and pointed to the signs, which they had obviously omitted to check and rectify. We stood our ground and were bid a pleasant afternoon by our gaelic friend, who then strode off, purposefully.

Eventually we arrived at the Well House Inn, for a cup of coffee (Sue please note!). We were served in the garden and enjoyed some outside freshness, which was soon pervaded by a waft of cigarette - time to move on. We completed a u-bend shape and came to Chipstead lane once more. Very soon, a signpost promised us a route downwards through a gate, and ' very soon' we re-traced our steps as we came to a gipsy-like encampment - rubbish and stuff everywhere, and awfully (a popular Surrey word) overgrown. Bad vibes abounded.

We found another footpath further along the road and made a bee-line for the track to Shabden Farm shop. Lovely grub to be had, and we did a good shop. Ham hocks, pork chops, black pudding, eggs, chuck steak, and pork/plum and ginger sausages - so a lot of baggage to be carried.

The track then led downhill once more and along towards the pub, and a chance to rest our weary legs - straight into the pub, where we received great service, and shared a mezze board. Full marks for this place by the way - couldn't fault it, and as we were leaving, Farty espied a plum tree, and we had another picking session - marvellous.

Right next walk will be Tuesday 21 Sept, unless the East Sussex posse wish to promote one. Farty will be elsewhere and Clat is expecting a friend from the Shires so both out of the picture. Let's hope we can all make 21st instead.

Happy hoofing everyone xxx

Bletchingley III, Whyte Hart

Get Yer Gums Around Me Plums - A Stonkingly Gorge(ous) Walk

Tuesday 31 August:

Venue: The Whyte Harte

Walkers: Farty, T.B., Mrs P (now recovered), Clat. No Windy due to entertaining her sis , and no doubt cooking-up some disguises, and the bad tooth fairy visited Sue over the weekend, leaving her crownless, which had to be attended to ,as soon as the surgery, and her mouth, was open.

However, Sally (welcome back love) met us for lunch and it was great to see her again, and we all admired her lovely top.

Find of the Walk: a baby's beanie hat

Distance: 6 1/2 Miles

Weather - just fabulous

After a quick coffee and a visit to our mini W.I. or farmers' market in the backs of cars, we were ready to go on our Rupert the Bear-shaped walk. We began by following a little of route I which meant walking through the churchyard. Clat very soon messed herself as she trod in some dog dooooo and was annoyed. Farty found a puddle so Clat immersed s----y boot, hoping that the recently applied vaseline to her cracks and fissures, would prevent leakage. Mrs P advised using some Dobbin, which confused Clat, as she wondered how a donkey could stop leakage. The matter was quickly cleared up when we realised the word is dubbin - we try to be perfect in all things......

Mon then spotted a bird of prey wheeling about in the sky and said it was probably looking for thermals, (which does not mean winter vests) - I think we were having some wordage problems this morning. Nearby, some lovely allotments with amazing views - the local p.o. is selling marrows and squash at 50p a time - excellent, and all proceeds to local church, so Desmond Tutu will be pleased.

We passed by the Rectory once more and onwards to Pendell Court School - full of kids, on holiday activities. We crossed several fields, one of which contained a horse, who constantly stuck his tongue out at us - charming, and then we came to a Teletubby-type tunnel, which went under the M25. Before the entrance we found an apple tree, and had a mini-scrumping and munching moment, before continuing.

On t'other side, we found a bountiful supply of fruit trees. Masses and masses of small plums, which we gorged ourselves on, and then decided to pick. Farty, who is strong of limb, pulled the branches right down and held on tight, looking as if she was begging for mercy. We did think though, if she let go suddenly, she could easily be catapulted back to the start, such was the strength of her pulling. Meanwhile, we filled a big bag, and then poor Madame P had to carry them - bit of a wobble backwards there, when she put the rucsack on.

This is where we had our break, and T.B. took the opportunity to relate a story of an old man, who , when stressed, took himself into a room, to give himself a 'tug' - i leave it to your imagination what that meant , but i'm with Lloyds.

T.B. has also developed a penchant for dead trees, (what does she mean - Picture editor) as you will see on this blog, and we saw quite a few today.

Other trees were decked with pears galore - an amazing find, and we thought of all the jams, jellies, and chutneys we could create from this lot - ooooooooooooo.

Further up we came to a small pond (gorgeous), with bullrushes, and about a hundred bright orange, bonking dragonflies - sorry, but is that my proboscis (sp) in your ear?

The path climbed very steeply at this point and even steeper at another point. (Wind, we know now why you really cried off). Over Spring Bottom Lane, higher and higher we went, until we crowned the summit (no pun intended Sue). The views here were magnificent. To the South we had Redhill, the quarries, and Dorking - which clearly demonstrated why it is called a gap town. To the North, Battersea Power Station, the London Eye, and the Shell Building, which is near the MI6 building. As the song says ' on a clear day, you can see forever'.

This place was called Quarry Hangers, and parts of it are a nature reserve.

We now crossed the top of ' Rupert's' head, passed Arthur's seat, and Tower Farm, aptly named, as the farmer had built one, and then a much gentler trackway for our descent. The only problem was the not very gentle driving of the 4-wheel cars (women i am sorry to say) who , fags in hand, hurtled along the tracks, nearly knocking us off our feet, and creating massive dust clouds.

Some beautiful acers were noted, and a passer-by asked us if we were lost - do we always look as if we are? Downwards we travelled, and much easier walking to be had. We crossed over the M25 this time, and disappeared on a track adjacent to the motorway. We crossed a clearing and came to Kitchen Copse (another nature reserve), and our maps led us to turn right, which meant navigating some very old and disused pathways. Clat was under the impression this was supposed to be a cycleway - no way. A stile was discovered , followed by dense undergrowth which contained a narrow plank over a ditch and another stile. Much bashing of bushes was performed, and Clat missed her footing and the s----y boot now went into the ditch. No harm done, and we eventually emerged, a bit prickly, into a field.

journey's end in sight

Our path led us to Place Farm, where we found the proper cycleway - so the maps are wrongly marked. From here, an easy journey homewards, cross some fields of very ripe flax - great for curing constipation, dear reader, and then on across a golf course, before reaching church lane and back to the pub.

Sally's platter!

Well, the food excelled again, and the service was good. The chips were back on, but no jug of water offered, so it now scores 19/20, oh, and they forgot to charge us for coffee.

Right then, next week is a bit different. Clat cannot do Tues 7th as she is expecting a delivery - and it's not a baby. Farty and T.B. are celebrating 29yrs of togetherness, and may decide to do their own thing, or not. So, Mrs P will be leading a walk in her parts (you know what i mean!), and therefore please direct queries to her.

On Weds. 8th, for anyone who cares to join in, Clat, and Farty will be meeting at the Ramblers Rest pub, Outwood Lane, Chipstead bottom (near Kingswood), at the usual time. This walk will hopefully include a visit to a farm shop for the purchase of meat, but knowing our luck, will probably be closed.

Happy walking everyone xxxxxxx