Kathryn Harries - Soprano

Monday, May 15, 2006

Thank God for Anthisan

The stinging nettles left our legs tingling in a peculiarly special and unpleasant fashion that had absolutely nothing to recommend it. Vicky gave us a tube of the above mentioned miracle cream and we were well and truly sorted in a matter of minutes.
A fabulous full breakfast with not only Vicky and Bernard but the world’s looniest and most hard-working vicar, Simon Douglas Lane, set us up for the day. Simon drove us to the station and thank God I asked him where the 200 foot crater we’d been warned about was situated: Right where we wanted to go. Of course.
He offered to drive us past the obstruction – and him a man of the cloth! – but I refused. I am compelled by my conscience to walk every step of the way and on the last walk would always backtrack a little, when I resumed each morning, to make sure that I didn’t miss a single yard. Pedantic is as good a word as any…
So Windsor was off the menu and Diana and I decided to head for Ascot. This was an excellent idea as it eventually took us through Windsor Great Park.
No prizes for guessing; we got lost; but with the help of a ranger and a dog walker near Smith’s Lawn, we got back on track and found Lorna at Black Nest Gate. Lunch in the car park of a Chinese Restaurant proved to be just the job and after a bit of foot repair, we went into and through Ascot.
I took the opportunity to pay off my daughter’s overdraft – Toria lives in Sydney and somehow had drifted a little into the red. That, of course, is what mothers are for.
Bracknell was interesting in a perverse sort of way – it’s a bit like Telford; full of roundabouts and underpasses. It took me a day to get through Telford on the Long Walk. Mercifully, we got through Bracknell in a matter of hours.
Then we had an awful stretch of road to negotiate in order to reach Wokingham. The A329 is bad enough in a car; on foot it’s a nightmare. Suffice to say that we managed and because it was the rush hour we were quicker than the traffic. A veil can be drawn over the rest. We survived, and that was enough.
A good day all told, but Diana’s first-day blister got worse. She’s perseverance personified and it was only at the 18-mile mark that she decided to stop rather than make the blister even worse.
I raised the pace and did a swift four miles to Barkham where I ended the day. 22 ½ miles and south of Reading.
Lorna then drove us up to Standlake in Oxfordshire where we were to spend two nights in the most idyllic house imaginable and with the delightful Suzy and Colin Webster. After hours of map reading at walking speed it’s a shock to the system trying to negotiate your way at 60 miles an hour, and after 8 or 9 hours on your feet, it’s REALLY nice to sit down.


Blogger Toria said...

Thanks for the overdraft pay off Mum, you're a bloody legend (see, I am turning into and Orstraylian)

7:22 am  

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