Chidingstone Causeway, The Little Brown Jug

Tuesday 25th September        The Little Brown Jug

Rising Damp.

Walkers:4 legs,Farty,TB,Wind.

(latest update on Chris's communication problems,

The phone line is fixed,but now Brian's computer won't

talk to his router(?),and Chris's won't work at all.  Chris said

!£$%&@? hell!

 Find of the walk: We found we'd never been so wet - not with clothes on anyway

 Distance: 5 1/2 miles

 We met up at the Little Brown Jug,which reminded Wind of the Duchess of Cambridge's recent troubles where her little jugs were brown due to exposure to The Sun.

(Did you see what I did there,eh? eh?)  Wind had driven through a monsoon which had unfortunately followed her.  We stood in the pub porch deliberating as to what to

do.  When in doubt have a coffee break.  Fortunately the pub was open,so in we went.  45 minutes later the rain had stopped,so reluctantly we got under way,making

our way over Penshurst station railtrack and into the fields beyond.  Almost immediately the rain started again.  Sue and Chris were,as usual,kitted out sensibly in long rainwear,kneehigh boots,and hats.  Sue looked quite the edwardian lady in her bonnet and flowing raincoat,while Chris had more of a stylish Ned Kelly look.  The rest of us just had a drowned rat look,and we'd only been going 10 minutes.  Is this weather set to last,someone asked.  Sue said she'd heard there was going to be a lot of grey,and flashing,which sounded like inappropriate behaviour at an old folks home.  Talking of which,we soon came upon a group of oldish looking male walkers.  We stopped for a chat.  Don't you have any lady walkers,we asked.  They weren't keen apparently,and were amazed to see TB with us gals.  He deserves a medal!  He watched them wistfully as they disappeared in the opposite direction.

It was after this that we met our first cows,which,luckily for Chris,were fenced in.  They were black with lovely faces.  A mother cow was licking her calf. (Not her leg,her baby).  Disgusting habit,said Chris.  Forging on,we crossed the lovely Vexauer Bridge,which spans the River Eden.  The concrete posts at either end had carvings on top in the shape of breasts,strangely.  Probably something to do with the Normans.  Filthy French.  On we went,and arrived at Chiddingstone Village.  There now follows a brief history lesson.  Yawn.  Chiddingstone is named after the Chiding Stone,which isa large sandstone rock from which judgment was dished out to "overbearing wives"(?!).  There's no mention of overbearing husbands being judged.  Those were the days.  Apart from the church,(original bits 13th century),and the castle,the village is owned by the National Trust,and has been used as locations for films such as Room witha view,Wind in the willows,and Elizabeth R.  It was founded before William conquered.and was owned by Earl Goodwin,father of King Harold.  Nearly finished.  The Streatfeild family owned the castle from Tudor times,and in the 1800s,Henry Streatfeild,who was a big cheese in the iron industry,rebuilt the original house to look like a medieval castle,as you do.  Bit like putting stone cladding on your house.  The castle also has it's own very ornate victorian post box,which seemed to have more collections than the rest of us.  We know our place.

By now it was chucking it down.  "Look Sue", Wind said,"a cottage dated 1679!".  "Sod that",said Sue,looking at her reflection in a car window,"look at my hair!"  We were pretty bedraggled,but were determined to make it into the castle grounds.  We scurried under the cover of some trees,pausing only to help TB with his headgear.  He couldn't quite get his hood over his waterproof hat,so ended up with the hat on top of his hood,which we assured him didn't look at all silly.  After a quick nose round the castle grounds,and noticing a grave containing Ginger,the marmalade cat,(the marmalade cat was spread here,said Chris,darkly),we continued on our way,and came upon our second group of cows,which Chris bravely skirted round.  They were dairy cows,judging by the size of their udders.  There were boobs at every turn today.  We ground to halt at a deep water-filled ditch,and realised the bridge was further up,throught the herd of cows.  Idon't think so,said Chris,and she and Sue pole vaulted over using Chris's compass stick. Would have got gold in the olympics. The rest of us preferred the cow-lined route,especially those of us with vertically challenged legs.

The rain was now lashing at us from a horizontal angle,and Wind announced that even her gusset was wet,although that may not have been entirely due to the rain.  That reminds me,vast quantities of urine gushing from the cows and sheep today.  Gallons of the stuff.  It surely can't all be down to the sight of us.  Chris said she had a spare pair of her mother's incontinence pants if Wind was interested,which she could wear while her trousers dried in front of the pub fire.  We weren't sure if

that would be a very attractive look,but thought it would ensure speedy service.  We traipsed into the pub,looking,as TB put it,as if we'd shat ourselves,and gently steamed.  The food here was good,but drinks were expensive - £4.40 for a pint of lager.  The young waitress seemed bored.  "That was delicious" we exclaimed,as she cleared the dishes.  "There used to be a pattern on those plates" said Chris.  Nothing.  "You finished?" she asked.  You wanted to ask if the charm school was closed when she went,but we kept schtum.  Well,we are British. 

TB is off to his photography club tomorrow,and had some pics of the interior of a train carriage which showed rather garish upholstery.  Farty and Wind went all misty eyed,remembering the time when train seats were comfy,covered with dark blue and green velvet.  Wind remembered the district line carriages having lamps (not gas,thank you very much) and wrought iron twirly bits.  Serious memory lane stuff ensued,including recollections of trolley buses,toy bus conductor ticket machines,emptying your mum's larder to play shops,post office kits(loved the stamp)....You get the picture.  "Shall I get the bill?" said Chris,as eyes were glazing over.  You can have enough of All Our Yesterdays.  Do you remember that programme?....Enough already!

Thank you Mon,nice one.  We wait to hear about next week's venue.  Thanks for the mammaries!

Reigate Hill II - The Yew (Or Me) Tree

Tuesday 18th September


Monica's Meaningful Meander or
Seven Sisters (and T.B.) Scramble Surrey

Walkers:  Farty, T.B., 4 Legs, Windy, Lil, Clat and a warm welcome to Farty's sister, Viv or, 'Flea'.  Mrs P is still busy in Arrrrfrica 'eating, drinking, and watching the erection slowly rise' - Chez Viagara then?  Chris has contacted Ofcom and is now only partly connected, but at least it's a start.

Distance: 71/4 miles according to Farty, and 8 miles according to Sue.  Her mileage equipment apparently, tallies with that in the gym so it must be right!

Find: a man's cable-knit jumper drying out on a fence.

Reigate Hill was looking magnificent today - marvellous far-reaching views, and someNational Trust  folk out and about displaying signs for Gatton Park, and trimming their bushes - more about that subject, later.  Lil and T.B met a volunteer all the way over from little ol' Virginia , U.S of A - impressive.  Unlike the state of the loos here which have deteriorated somewhat, are dirty and smell - in a not-nice way.  Time to begin then.

This walk means we set off downhill and then along for a while before ascensions to be attempted.  We meandered and admired the views - cue T.B. and the camera.  Passing through the edge of the golf course, a couple of nannies or billies , a local school where the boys were practicing handling an electric fence and not succeeding, and eventually to Merstham (must go back to The Feathers apparently).  We arrived in Quality Street - so why not name ourselves after these traditional sweeties from way-back when?  Farty-brazil nut caramel.  Lil-orange cream, Chris-penny toffee, Viv-the triangular green one, Clat - coconut crunch, Windy - hazelnut whirl, Sue-nut brittle, and T.B - the long thin toffee with a hard centre (tee hee) - or are you just pleased to see us? A little refreshment and then across the motorway and the din of the traffic thereon.

The long hill climb soon presented itself , and the gazelles made light work of this l in 1 job.  Others of us stopped quite a few times and marvelled at some more views. T.B. got out his latest toy and demonstrated how to use binoculars .  At the top of the hill we discovered a very curious creation or art form,  consisting of rocks with wooden carvings of people on sticks ,with arrows surrounding them.  We played  spot the willy and left.  Fanny's Farm next, decked with bunting and lots of eccentricity, and a new Pudding Room for official functions.  In we went, and Viv stood around- meaning she bought us all a drink - thank you very much indeed.  We settled in the shrubbery and garden area, chatted, thought we felt the odd drop of rain, used the loos, checked the vietnamese piggies, admired the chooks, and set off once more.

'Time for a diversion' says Farty, and the silence was deafening - however, today is her birthday walk, and she can go where she likes  and so will we -  so we did.  Some quite pretty countryside ensued and after just one little losing of a footpath, and a bit of cowage, plus dismaying sights of fly-tipping and graffiti-ism, we were soon on another long, upward climb back to the car  park.

Short work was made of changing, and a quick dash was made for the pub.  The last time we were here was Clat's birthday, so it was apt that Farty had hers here too.  Good service and a good menu - hard to make up our minds, but before long we were tucking in.  A predominance of chicken pies was noted, and pronounced excellent, and the other meals were good, too.   However, Windy's arm gave us cause to be alarmed (I am trying to be dramatic here).  She had tumbled against a gate, and something had made her arm come up all bumpy and blotchy -  enough to look like Braille. Chris immediately did the empty glass test and announced that it was meningitis.  Farty got out her WD 40 otherwise known as Waspeze and managed to gas Wind and Viv with its contents - will this work?  Will her arm fall off? - you will know next week.  However she had to get away before long because she was meeting a man who was going to look at her bush, with a view to trimming it, cutting it back, or going for the full Brazilian - again, you will find out next week.   A woman at a neighbouring table developed a loud, and alarming-sounding cough - best that she doesn't book a table for Christmas, Dr Chris said.
Next week:  Farty will be advising venue etc., as Clat and Lil will be unavailabe due to hospital procedure for Dad.  It is likely to be in the southern hemisphere, but the location has already confused several of our members, so it should be an interesting day.  Do enjoy, and we shall catch up with you in October!! Talking of which, the week of Halloween will mean dressing-up for the occasion, which should worry the neighbours.  Poundland is doing an excellent line in the relevant gear, so we are  looking forward to creeping and creaking on the walk - Booh! xxx

Tandridge - The Barley Mow

Tuesday 11 September - soon be Christmas

Oh Oh Oh What a Lovely View

Walkers:  2 Legs, Windy, Clat, Lil and Angelala - no longer a registrarararrararar so a name change required.  No Farty or T.B. due to a birthday luncheon with an old lady-friend of theirs.  Chris joined us for lunch.  She has been incommunicado for three weeks thanks to B.T. - oy, you out there - it's the 21st century, so get her back on.
And relax

Find of the Walk - 0
Distance 7 miles.

Prompt arrivals all round so after quickly checking with the plumber if it was o.k. to park 'here' - we set off at 1025.  The promised rain had not materialised so today was spent rambling in the sunshine, with a cool wind not wend, to keep the sweat glands in check.  We went eastwards for a bit - some of us were champing at the bit, and had to be restrained, while Clat tried to circumnavigate the world.  This duly done we headed in the right direction - west.

Back out on to the main road and a quick fork to Jackass Lane, and then a goodly footpath to the left and some lovely views, which is where Wind came in, exclaiming from time to time how lovely they were.  Cue here for Lil to un-earth her camera and get clicking - and she produced some wonderful pics.  At several points we got into a bid of a huddle and decided on which direction we would prefer, and we sort of cobbled it together and it worked - oooo er.    A large pond came into view, and we recalled our last visit when Mrs P organised a rescue mission for an injured swan.  We reached the Enterdent which we reckon is between the teeth in France and then onwards and upwards, through some leafy woods, and after a particularly gusset-ripping stile, which could easily have robbed T.B. of his crown jewels, we came upon Godstone Farm - time for some heavy petting then.........................

The penned animals - rather ripe in odour, were admired, patted, and commented on (especially the fat porkie pigs), the loos were used - sort of synchronised releasing as we filed into our respective cubicles - and then we washed our hands like good little girls.  A picnic area here was the perfect spot to refresh, and the mood soon turned to one of  mischief, as all the playground swings, rides, etc. were empty, and begging to be used - oh gawd.
Despite Clat's efforts to get going again, Lil spotted a zip-wire - there was no stopping her.  Within seconds she was zipping and yipping her away across the ground, legs out in front and in control????? Sue climbed on to the other one and a lot of to-ing and fro-ing followed before a rather un-fortunate dis-mount, but nothing damaged, and then Windy decided that this was for her too - so more of the above.  Time to go, before a warden, or someone else comes to investigate the noise and chuck us out - what hoodlums we are!  Our final 'event' was to poke our heads through some holes, and become cows, pigs and sheep respectively. However the photo leads one to believe that Clat's head is coming out of the backside of Windy who was the sheep - getting to know ewe has a whole new meaning.

Out of there, across the road, and on to Ivy Mill Lane, going further along it than before. A rather bulky cyclist appeared on the bend, and without so much as a by your leave , headed towards Windy and Angelala, nearly knocking them flying.  Did he apologise?  Did Windy's admonishment have any effect? - what do you think? - correct.

Up a bridleway, and thanks to Lil's expert observations on finding dis-used stiles, we were on course for our return journey.  Back on to the Greensand Way and more views to behold.  We trekked along to Brakey Hill and decided to take the track to the right into a field.  Very quickly we realised we were on newly-laid slurry but we continued - on our fragrant way, to eventually  arrive at the Barley Mow - a goodly walk. 
Once inside, we were met by Father Christmas - inviting us to book our table for the festive period - 'we've not had Halloween yet' muttered Sue, so perhaps our walk took longer than we thought.  The sign in the Ladies asks us if we are Surviving Domestic Violence - well I did kill a fly yesterday.
We ordered - a pleasant young lady served us, and the lite bite lunches at £5.95 are a real bargain  we all had one, except for Angelala who had a very acceptable mackerel salad.

So that was that then, and we all had places to go, people to see, and journeys to make.
Next week is Farty's birthday walk.  She has selected Reigate Hill II which involves a visit to Fanny's Farm, and her sister Viv will be coming too - the more the merrier.  See you next week.  xxx

East Grinstead - Dunnings Mill

Tuesday 4th September

Goose, Anyone?

Walkers:  Farty - complete with boots!, T.B., 2 Legs, Windy, Lil, Clat and, G4 Jane, who will now be called Jane2P cos she has recently got married - congratulations!  As we already have a Mrs P who is heavily into erections, and Jane is now a Mrs P, we have decided to give her this monicker.  Sally joined us for lunch, and Chris was busy with other stuff. Sue left us before lunch, to tend to Mum who has had a fall and needs tender tending.

Find of the Walk:  A walking wardrobe

Dunnings Mill

Distance: 7 miles
A perfect day, as the song goes, and there was a lot of singing today from a certain member, but, as usual, it wasn't appreciated but it continued nevertheless.  The last time we were at this pub, enormous amounts of workings were being carried out, with a demolishment and then erection* of new Barratt homes and an old peoples' home.  This has all been finished, and the residents are in at the home, the sales office is in full swing, (great for potential alcoholics due to its close proximity to the pub - within vomiting distance as we used to say) -  and what a difference a few months has made.

  We chose a familiar route, north-east and other directions on the High Weald Landscape Trail.  It was here we found the clothing ensemble hidden in a tree - jeans and a top, size 14 and no owner about - oh well, I hope she had a good time - moving on..............   We came to Standen, the local N.T. property, and noted the annoyed travellers who had 'come all this way', only to find, that as of today, the place would be closed on a Tuesday -how frustrating, and we 'came all this way', only to get a bit lost, but we quickly recovered and were soon crossing fields of green but no red roses too, passing sandstone boulders and formations, one of which looked like a plinth, absolutely ripe for a  Windy-posing session, but Windy declined - we shall work on her for the future.

We arrived at Weir Wood Reservoir, looking healthy, glistening, and full of water, so we are back to normal then.  After a while, we turned, on the  homeward trail, and Farty provided a little change to the route.  We encountered a field with a great number of horses, and before we knew it, Sue had executed a neat exit over a barbed wire fence, then a wooden one - she doesn't like these critters.  However, they were very docile, and let us get on with it. After some edging round the backs of houses we arrived at the pub - 'far too early' states Farty 'let's go and see the chickens' - so we did.  This involved tracking by the new old peoples' home, and the residents/inmates kindly waved as we passed by.  The chickens were arrived at, and as Farty moved towards the enclosure to say hello to a goose, a ditch presented itself and she messed herself - what is it with her and fowl-life?  Anyway, she recovered something, and we went back to the pub, waving once more at the 'home' dwellers. 

We met-up with Sally, and eventually secured a table outside, right by the waterwheel of the mill - all very relaxing and lovely.  We ate lunch - all deemed very good, except for Clat , who thought her salmon salad at 12.95 was an absolute rip-off , and only one half of a tiny tomato too.  T.B's ham, egg and chips looked fab., and was much cheaper - right, moan over.  Time to go home.
Next week no Farty or T.B., so we shall do something, like sit a lot and chat a lot, with a bit of walking thrown in perhaps?  I shall be letting you know, once i've had me pin out and done a half-way point between me and '45 mins. of Windy' - ta ta.

Bletchingley 111 - The Red Lion

Tuesday 28th August

From Diarrhoea to Amnesia

Walkers: Farty and T.B. (eventually), 4 Legs, Windy, Lil -Happy Birthday- and Clat

Distance: 7 miles (for some of us)

Find: Farty and T.B.

Perfect weather for our ramblings today.  Blue skies, skudding clouds, a light breeze, and a comfy temperature.  So, are we ready for the off?  A voice from the rear of a car  - 'where are my boots', 'did you not put the boots in?', 'they were by the hall' and so on and so on.  Yes, poor Farty, still recovering from her lurgy had forgotten her footwear.  She couldn't possibly do the circuit in her flip flops, so she and he, were despatched back home, and we despatched northwards.

This is the Rupert the Bear walk, due to its shape on the map.  We arranged to meet up with our missing duo somewhere near the nose.  A good pace was set, and we gradually made our way through fields and trees and school grounds and under the ever-noisy M25, where we usually find masses of fruit on the trees - but not this year.

A quick break, Chris taking advantage of some bushes, and we prepared for the high ascent.  Almost a 1 in 1, we steeple-chased our way up, gasping* all the way.  At the top we were rewarded with some fantastic views across towards Canary Wharf and the Shard, and two very friendly dawgies.  A bleep from Farty alerted us to her imminent arrival from the other direction and we soon had our re-union in the nostrils. We carried on -  and they had to turn round for our gentle descent towards home.

Across the M25 once more, and through a thicket and a thinnet towards some workings - a woman in a ditch with a tiny trowel.  She was excavating the old Bletchingley Palace and had found a wall but nothing else.  She and her colleague have two weeks apparently, to sort through what looks like acres of field - good luck madam.  Prior to this,  Clat had stepped down heavily onto Farty's glasses which had fallen out of her bust (I know, but that's where they get lodged).  It was a complete stile -accident, and could have been worse, but the muddy conditions meant they had got squidged rather than decimated.

To add to this duo's misfortune today, neither of T.B.'s camera batteries were working so, mainly internet-sourced pictures today.

I think it's time we got back to the pub - so we eventually did.  Food and booze ordered and some comparisons with HP versus Daddies sauce and T.B. asked if anyone remembered Dinky Chop Sauce - er no. We notice that Garry Pease will soon be appearing as Rod Stewart,  so we ate ours, paid the bill , and left for home.

Next week could be Borde Hill or Reigate, because Fanny has opened her Pudding Room and we need to see it - make what you will of that.  Ta ta

Walton Heath - The Duke's Head

Tuesday 21 August

Sisters are Doing it for Themselves

Walkers:  4 Legs, Lil and Clat.   Poor Farty has succumbed to a case of the lurgy and things are happening rather nastily at one end.  She's not eaten for 24hrs so it must be bad. She is trying to rest, but as is usual at these in-convenient (no pun intended) times, the window man is there, replacing her sashes and ropes - oops 50 shades snuk in there. 

Windy is in her mother's loft, looking for buried treasure, and  sending many omg messages at the state and the amount of 'stuff' up there.  She is going to be insulated - make what you will of that.

Trish is back out there with her erection, but is pleased with results so far. 

Find of the walk: 0

Distance: 61/2 miles

We were booted and off by 1025!!!  Clat, determined to get the hang of the wretched criss-cross paths etc on these heaths, took everyone to the very edge - and turned right.  The weather was humid but grey, so walking was quite comfy really.  Sue wondered about changing direction, to get to Fanny's Farm.  This place has refurbished tea rooms which opened last Sat. so we do need to check it out.  However, map produced, she realised it was a bit too far today.

So we kind of cobbled things together, and went off towards Lower Kingswood and the Mogador Road, along and through Margery Wood - everywhere was so quiet, and  then it wasn't cos we crossed the M25.  The view from Reigate Hill was lovely today, and before long Sue needed to 'refresh' herself.  Heading into a clump of trees, she came face-to-face with a bunch of Herdwickes then some other walkers with the same idea.  Chris, meanwhile, having spotted a man clad in white overalls, mask, and a spray gun in his hand, had to go and investigate.  We had just had a conversation about some horrible caterpillars which can leave a hair or two around you, and bingo - you get a lurgy too.  He explained he was spraying the hawthorn - that's a new one on me.  We also met Bert, a rescue j.r and a very friendly canine.

The offer of going steeply down and steeply up again, was declined so we went along instead.  Time to cross the M25 again, and in to Walton Heath golf course.  We came across a man looking for his balls........................  All was going well and we passed by The Sportsman and on the right path.  However, some mis-signing, and some mis-management on my part, meant a mis-direction - oh heck.  So a bit of retracement occurred, and we eventually made it back to base, with a quick stop to stroke a 12 week cockapoo, which is not a bird with incontinent problems, but a dog - called Millie.

The pub is looking magnificent with its stupendous hanging baskets - you really should see them.  We were welcomed warmly by Wendy again, and explained what had happened to our group.  Great food as always, and then Sue got the munchies and a pud was required - she does not have worms but is ravenous today.   A raspberry and coconut creation arrived, and was declared yummy - 'i could eat that again' she declared, but she didn't.  We finished our repast and left for home.

Next week is Lil's birthday walk (27th is her actual date, which means that next year, on her significant day, it will be a Tuesday - hurrah)  - she is trying to make up her mind and I shall let you know.  Take care and keep well out there. 

Rusper - The Star

Tuesday 14 August

Rusper Rare RahRah Ramble

Walkers:  Farty, T.B., Windy, 2 Legs, Clat - and Mrs P!!!  More later.................  Chris is out socialising, Lil is in Portsmouth and it is Cowes week - plenty to be seen I can tell you.  Minnie is still under vitinry, so we each had a bag of Mini Cheddars in thoughts of her.

Distance: 71/2 miles - both pedos do not correlate so we took the average.

Find of the Walk: Provincalis magnificus erectus ( well, it's nearly finished apparently)  a birthday balloon, and an anorexic walker - no 75

T.B. has really got the hang of  punctuality - excellent, and we were off by 10.35 and at 10.37 we suffered from  premature direction.  (Some of us have been reading 50 Shades of Whatever, so references will be made  by * - sorry folks).  A fork in the path - we took the left version which proved to be right.  Well done Farty.  In fact, today her navigation skills were honed to perfection which is exactly what was required - again, more later* (he gasped).

This was new territory for us and we travelled at a reasonable pace because it was very hot * humid, and wet, from the torrential rain from the night before -  i should have worn me gaiters*(playroom?)  So, the Sussex Border path it was, and some delightful countryside, vistas and views, with fields bursting with ripened crops , waiting to be harvested -  real English summer stuff to behold.  A cluster of Thelwell ponies complete with riders were on the pathway and we had a chat to their cheerful little owners.   We found ourselves in woods with the odd sighting of the lesser-spotted Rahrah and caught-up on all her news.  Our first break near a horsey area plus bouncing black jack russell to accompany us, and some delicious muesli bars from Mrs P. After this, a conflict of maps ensued, as Clat's and Mon's did not correspond.  Luckily, a passing person pointed us in the right direction and we continued.

More woodland, fields and views followed - this is such a lovely walk, only slightly marred by the continued and constant sound of low-flying aircraft, something most of us are so used to.  We stared at their bellies* and agreed - ' rather them than us. ' We crossed the River Mole, which is tiny in these parts,* continuing to Kirk Farm where it appears that LGW holidaymakers cars are parked, which is ok except they were hiding the pathway signs.  After some tentative vaulting over stiles*? we finally got it right - thank goodness , as by now it was positively steaming*.  Again,  well done Farty.

Another stop for refreshment and then some very tricky and tedious field crossing - full of holes from the cloven hooves of the cows - it was a real assault course*.  Mrs P regaled us of Mr P's recent 60th birthday party and the impressive cheeseboard - 'looks good on a grey slate' we said, and so we concentrated on 50 shades of grey, cheeses - whip-me wensleydale, groaning gouda, ecstatic edam, b-j brie, chafing cheddar, carnal caerphilly, rampant roquefort - the possibilities are endless.

We also chatted about the olly- impics which are now sadly over for the time being ( sadly?, Ed), and how good the closing ceremony was -with a few exceptions though.

The Lamb Inn was encountered, but we ventured on, as we were not far from home.  Clat stupidly announced that we hadn't had any hills to deal with, and then was confronted with a long and high-ish one, which included an alpaca in a field.  Phew!  made it, and we were very glad to be back.  Although we were meant to be eating at The Plough, we saw that the Star was doing a good trade, and, as it also proclaimed that it was the West Sussex Pub of the Year, (but which year? says Windy) we gave it a whirl. 

Good food, good service, good menu, especially as you could have lighter versions of the main courses, so Clat opted for a stifado*, and the others were much more restrained!  Fish and chips, big sausages* and mash, and a crab* if you have too much of the 50. Oh dear, time I stopped - I have no idea where we shall be next week, but I shall be on Book 2 by then - heaven help you.

Another mention for T.B. - he is always very gallant and sorts out our drinks orders - thank you - we do appreciate your manliness*  !!!  He has been rather hirsute today in the facial dept. in readiness for his visit to The Valet, but I don't think he has opted for the 'inter-gluteal cleft' - we shall have a good look next week. 

Bye for now

Warnham - The Sussex Oak

(2 blogs for the price of 1! First from Clatchat & second from Windy)

Tuesday 7 August

Sue's Birthday Browser

Walkers:  Farty and her shoulder, T.B., 2 Legs, Windy, Lil and Clat a.k.a. as the old battle-axe for today.  No Chris, due hospital appts.  No Trish although she is back in the country but not for long, and Minnie  still under vitinry reviews.

Distance: 5 miles - Farty not best pleased!!!

We arrived to find a busy car park, due, we found, to another party of walkers, and quite a big one too, by the looks of things.  T.B. was under orders to get booted and ready for the off, pronto, so he delayed his greetings, except his name for Clat, but it worked and we departed only 5 mins late!!!  He is sporting a rather splendid bindi on his forehead today, acquired courtesy of a kitchen cupboard.  It's great to have Farty back in our midst - she does repair quickly doesn't she?  

Across the road, alongside the church, and straight into fields of glowing and growing crops, and a woman doing some path research for the b.h.s. - not the shop methinks.  The skies were dark and forbidding but that did not deter us, and we were soon on the outskirts of the deer park.  However, Clat decided on a little detour, which meant crossing the A24 and over towards the Warnham Nature Reserve.  First, we had to cross a golf course following the correct footpath signs, but a golfer waved at us, signing that we had gone the wrong way - i.e. right across his fore-play (tee hee).  Clat soon explained that we were right and he acquiesced a bit.  Hey ho, we got across and found a rather nice cafe, and very quickly managed to confuse the server.  Just outside was a rather large insectory which had been aptly called Buginham Palace - cute.  Beverages and cakes for some of us, a trip to the loo, and we were off back across the A24 to resume normal service. 

We passed a very dead deer oh dear, and then came to the path which took us across the deer park.  Some very magnificent stags to behold, with massive antlers, obviously in training for their forthcoming rutting - watch out girls.  The rutting season is almost upon us ,look out, and we saw lots of deer today,the males with large sets of antlers,and nervous looking females as far away as possible.  Bit like the old days down the disco. Onwards we trekked, and more fields before eventually arriving at Warnham Manor, which looked very neat and groomed (it should be for the price of the apartments here).  We chose a slightly different route for our return, and in the middle of a wooded area we bumped right into the 'many' walkers as previously mentioned - 22 in fact,  and all jolly keen.

It wasn't that long before we were on our final stages - far too short a walk for the likes of Farty, but a return to the pub  at 1330 is unheard of - until today.  Actually our return co-incided with the 22 'others' but quite a few of them went home.  Into the pub then, and a good job too, cos it started to rain.   We found a table close to the bar, and the landlord had saved a pie for T.B. So all was well with the world, until he pulled out a brochure for his 'valet' treat.  Here, it seems, you can have a shave, massage and all sorts, and then we got to the waxing page - sac, back, crack, and gluteus maximus anyone?  seems lots of athletes are hairless and so we wonder if T.B. will get his gentleman parts smoothed over, but no, he has settled for a shave  - but which part?

The food was great as it always is, however they forgot Windy's spuds, but seeing as she had forgotten her shoes we wonder what the 3rd thing will be.  However, the former was put down to a new bloke on veg, and the latter could be the beginnings of a Cinderella complex.  We tucked in  and toasted Sue's health and birthday - apparently she will be celebrating by having her bushes trimmed.   The head of 'the others' came over and leant us her walking book - 'Walk and Talk your way to Health', then another head said he would love to see us on one of their walks - somehow, i think not, but you never know.

Birthday Girl!

Most of us are really into the olly-impics so it wasn't long before the party broke up and we went our separate ways.  We shall keep you informed as to next week's venue - ta ta.

Tues 7th August.

Warnham. Sussex Oak.

Walkers: Sue, Clat, Lil, Farty, TB, Wind.

Distance: 5 miles.

Find of the walk: Other ramblers.

We met at the Sussex Oak car park and found it to be unusually packed with other cars.  Enquiries were made and it seemed,shock,horror,other ramblers were in the area.  We came upon them later on,plodding purposefully towards us,as we scattered out of the way.  Martin was taking a "comfort break" at the time,but thankfully was well hidden,otherwise he might have turned round in surprise and splashed more than his boots.

This was Sue's birthday walk,and so after half an hour we stopped for a coffee break at Warnham Nature Reserve.  Having totally confused the girl behind the counter with a variations on a theme coffee order,(we should know better,we had enough of that on board),we settled outside and asked Sue what she was doing for her birthday.  She told us she was having some men round to cut her hedges......I know. I know,you can see where this is going.  Sue said on no account did she want to read anything about any bush trimming,so we'll leave it there.  I may have said too much already.

We set off again,and as so often happens,we found ourselves on a golf course.  Our meanderings across the greens seemed to annoy one chap in particular, I can't think why.  Clat(red rag/anorak to a bull)pointed out we were merely following the signs.  He grudgingly agreed, and then couldn't find his ball,asking Clat if she had perhaps trodden on it. Prickly Pringle wearer!

The rutting season is almost upon us ,look out, and we saw lots of deer today,the males with large sets of antlers,and nervous looking females as far away as possible.  Bit like the old days down the disco.

As we neared the pub we spotted the other dreaded ramblers slightly ahead of us,heading the same way. The olympic spirit kicked in,as some of us took a short cut at high-ish speed.  You could almost hear the Benny Hill music. It was pretty much a dead heat and with a quick long jump we managed to bag a table.  The food was good,as usual here.  Martin told us he'd got a voucher for his birthday for general pampering.wet shave etc. and also for waxing of the "back,sack and crack".  We offered to do this for him,as Wind had some red christmas candles left over that she could melt down,but he didn't seem keen.  

 A member of the other rambling group came over and said if we logged on to the Horsham council website,we could find out more about them.  Come and join us,he said.  Lovely,we said,feigning interest.  Apparently,some of their walks are 12 miles long.  I don't think so!

It was lovely to see Farty back in action after a horrible time with her dislocated shoulder.  She spent a week wearing a sling,and was having trouble putting her hair up and putting on her bra. Martin tried to help,but the chignon was more of a chignoff,and he couldn't manage the bra fastenings. He used to get it off easily enough,said Farty, nostalgically.  So she spent the week with no bra on, and wearing an alice band.  Good job she wasn't out and about,she might have been taken into care!

Next week week is TBA.  Happy birthday for Thursday Sue. xx

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