Outwood - The Castle

Onward and Outwood        Tuesday 4th October

Walkers: Farty, T.B., Windy, Mrs P., 8 legs (Josephine has had steroid injections, so is unable to bounce a lot), Clatchat. No Lil due to flu/virus and an imminent trip to Paris. All others awol.

Distance: 6 3/4 miles

Find of the walk: some John Deere overalls, kindly modelled by Mrs P.

A grey day, after all that splendid sunshine, but we knew it couldn't last, which has made the walkers feel a little flat. Due to last week's monumental cock-up on the communication front, the walk location was carried forward, so here we were.

The car-boot scenario occurred, with jam jars, bits and pieces, and a large bowl of cooking apples supplied by Windy, who then had an attack of the Bramleys and had to be revived by a slurrrrp from the Clat coffee flask. Phew

A new walk! We set off southwards and were immediately presented with a wonderful vista of fields and distance, with Gatwick aircraft presenting from the skies. A heading left, then right, brought us into a field with a bull to one side, and a herd of cows on t'other (as they say up North). Our gallant T.B. strode purposefully on, and the bull took no notice, so we carefully followed in his footsteps, and after some creeping round the edges, came out onto a road - relieved that we had survived the bovine presence.

We carried on our merry way, catching up on things, passing the lovely Smallfield Place, and our planned coffee stop - The Plough and Furrow. Although it wasn't quite opening time, we were welcomed in, provided with tea and coffee - and Mrs P provided us with amazing biscuits. Another amazing thing here was the price - £1 for each drink - what a bargain. The staff were friendly, the menu was excellent and so were the prices - we have to come back here.

Our stop was a little longer than usual, so we hurried off across the field, then Clat had an amnesic moment - she had left her map behind. Mr Gallant retrieved it for her - so kind. The others had gorn orf ahead at their pace, and we were a little behind (ooo matron), with our juicy conversation, which was all about sphincter control, and, being able to cope before matters came to a head - if you'll pardon the expression. We compared personal tales which ended on a bum note - ha ha ha ha ha. However, we all agreed that 'happiness is a dry fart' - let us proceed...............................................................................
Some re-arrangement of the planned walk had occurred, and we were very much into the Sue/Chris training area, which apparently, they don't particularly like, but for us first-timers, it was rather nice to be somewhere different. Various farms were passed, and a bit of posing was done here and there. We kept going in a northerly direction, and eventually we found the beginning of our route, and back to the pub.

However, let loose in the road, were two staffordshire/pit-bull types, with no collars, and before long were going to end up as tins of Chum. The pub staff located their origin, and a lady of a certain breeding herself, screeched her concern and annoyance that 'he had left the bloody gate open again' - enough said then.

We hadn't realised that food last orders are at 1430, and the place closes at 3. 8 legs went home anyway, cos they had to do things with Mum, and we hurriedly ordered our food (which was deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelicious), and had Remegels to follow. T.B. was quoting from one of his fave booklets 'What do you call a pig who has lost his voice? - disgruntled' more ha ha ha ha ha. And, did you know that it takes a pig 30 mins to orgasm? Farty, who is on the look-out for a ginger tom (snigger ye not), was given a pussy salt and pepper pot to keep her going -( ooops , could be heading back to sphincter territory here.) More talk - this time, the mis-use of the word prostrate as opposed to prostate - oh heck.

We carried on the chat outside, and decided that next week, we shall probably walk from the Sussex Oak in Warnham - but this is t.b.c. - have a good week xxx