Amavimus, Amamus, Amabimus.
Ooer!
Tues 27th March
Walkers: Eight legs, Farty, Token
Bloke, Windy.
Weather: Gorgeous
Distance: 6 1/2 miles ish
Time taken: 3 hours ish, included a
coffee break.
Find of walk: glove on a signpost
Windy suggested this venue as she
had noticed it when to-ing and fro-ing recently en route,or not,as it turned
out to Ashfold Crossways. It looked like our sort of place, all olde
worlde charm, and as Chris said, it had a Midsomer Murder/Miss Marple feel about
it. Windy had got quite carried away and had printed off a walk and some
fascinating facts about Slaugham, pronounced "Slaffam" and proceeded
to bore everyone to death anorack style (2 pairs of glasses were necessary to read the blurb). She soon regretted this as it
resulted in several hints that she should write the blog!
The suggested walk was no good as it
was only 4 1/2 miles, and even TB and Windy had to admit this was too
short(?!). Mon had kindly mapped out something more suitable. As
advised, we parked tidily in the church (13th century) car park and set off in
a direction. I couldn't tell you which one. Chris and TB were both
wearing combat trousers and were soon only visible from the waist up. We
walked through the church lychgate which has the above inscription, meaning, we
have loved, we do love, we shall love. Aaaah! We soon reached the
large mill pond, which is the major headwater of the River Ouse, which flows
out to sea at Newhaven, incase you didn't know. ( I am copying this from
the blurb if you're wondering!)
We wandered through undulating
fields, over streams, had a nose at large gorgeous houses, including Slaugham Manor ( police training centre, yeah right, looked good for a jolly!), Slaugham
Place, venue for weddings etc. and Lydhurst Place, a huge estate which seemed to
have it's own moat and bridge (well ok, small stream). Googled it, but
couldn't find out anything, so it must be owned by an east european. Windy found it impossible not to try this stile.
We oohed and aahed at daffs and
other spring flowers, and fab magnolias, and chickens were spotted too, so all was
well with the world! Minnie had an extra spring in her step too, as once
off the lead she raced back and forth. A slight wrong turn was taken, I
believe on the Landscape Trail ( I could be wrong!). No matter though, as
we were soon in Warninglid (originally called Werna Gelad, meaning Werna's
Path. Yawn), and popped into the Half Moon for a coffee. We could
get used to these coffee stops!. We met a lovely husky type dog in the
pub garden, which was an Alaskan something breed. He was only 15 weeks old,
and already huge. Minnie had a bit of a bark just to let him know who was
boss!
At this point I believe we'd done
about 6 miles and were not far from our destination, so a shorter walk than
usual, which disappointed TB and Wend. Thoughts turned to lunch, as they
often do. We knew pollack was on the menu, and Mon wondered if they had
bollocks too. We wondered how best to cook them. Mon thought
sliced, dusted in seasoned flour and lightly fried. Eat your heart out
Delia! Anyway, we thought we couldn't eat a whole one!
We got back to St. Mary's and had a
look round the graveyard and church, and talk turned to death, as you do, and
it seems the other night Martin thought Mon was dead, as her arm was freezing
cold. We suggested he should have checked her core temperature.
This caused much hilarity and talk of thermometers and dipsticks, and where to
put them. Honestly, how old are we?!
The food at The Chequers turned out
to be good, if rather expensive. The constant Stephan Grappelli music eventually
became irritating, especially the up-tempo numbers, which had the effect of
making you eat faster, if that's possible with us lot! Maybe that was the
intention.
After lunch we had another stroll towards
Handcross, pausing at a field of chocolate coloured cows with two sweet calfs
(calves?), quite new by the look of them. Suddenly the mother cow's sides
started heaving and we thought we were about to witness another birth, but the
heaving stopped and she carried on eating grass, but as we said, some fat cows
do continue eating while giving birth, but they mainly live in Croydon.
Controversial! We carried on a bit further and then turned back, stopping
to stroke a couple of horses, looking all noble with lips quivering.(the
horses).
As we walked back through the
village, Windy insisted on referring to the blurb again (OMG, enough already!),
pointing out the white telephone box painted in the 1920s, the Lord of the
manor insisted, an Edward V11 post box, very rare apparently, I think he was
the fat bloke who had all the mistresses, so perhaps he didn't last long,
Foyles, once the village workhouse, and Bosworths, an early timber framed
building with a Horsham stone roof. Phew!
We got back to our tidily parked
cars, and everyone was keen to get going in case Wind had some more fascinating
facts to impart. We took a moment to admire a beautifully clipped hedge
in the shape of clouds, with a lovely magnolia behind it. Wot a picture!
As we were about to get in our cars, a couple turned up with a lovely silky
haired dog with matchstick legs. Is he a real dog? asked Chris. The
dog looked offended. Turns out she was a Bedlington Whippet cross who had
been for a paddle, hence the skinny legs! The couple had lots of top tips
for walks and pubs in the area, and Mon took notes. We maybe back!
Thanks for guiding us Mon.
Next week we're meeting at Vinols Cross pub, West Hoathly. It used to be The
Intrepid Fox, but was Vinols originally. Mon misheard mine host and thought he
said Vinyls. She wondered if they did a nice line in lino! See you
soon. XXX
Tues 24 April.
It was quite muddy after all the
rain we've had since the hosepipe ban was introduced,but the countryside looked
lovely,and there were plenty of bluebells,which pleased TB(!) and Wind.
We saw a horse who looked like he'd had a perm,and a pig at Godstone Farm with
bouffant ears. They must use the same salon. There were lots of
signs at Godstone Farm along the lines of "now wash your hands
please",which reminded us of Bronco and Izal loo paper. We wondered
how we managed using what really was greaseproof paper!
We came across a huge white snail
which Mon put on a rock for a photo. He was a bit shy at first,but
eventually his antennae emerged and he gave us a wave. Mon had picked
some wild garlic,and TB said if only we had some butter and a frying
pan.....There's always one! He was beginning to think about lunch. We
posed for a group photo at Garston Park, which was the venue for our original
blog photo a few years ago,and marvelled at how little we'd changed.
Should have gone to specsavers? We were on the final leg of the walk and got
back to the pub where the food and service was good. Over coffee,talk
turned to hysterectomies,(Iforget why),and Mon told us her fibroid was the size
of,not a grapefruit,but a cauliflower! The conversation went downhill
after that with talk of giving birth to it,cheese sauce etc. This was all
too much for TB who suggested we get the bill,and after a flash of Mon's new
mauve bra,we were off. You couldn't take us anywhere.
