It is our final day at Cholsey Grange, we will be heading home tomorrow. But before we depart there is still time for one more walk in this stunning countryside.
It is another cracking day, there are clouds in the sky, but no fear of any rain. I study the map and identify a “jam about” that for the major part will cover footpaths we have not previously walked. This is my favourite kind of walking.
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It’s a bit overcast and there is a chill to the breeze today making it feel a good deal cooler. We decide to head west along the coast to Aberdaron to wander around and hopefully the boys will have a chance to play on the beach.
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It’s Father’s Day and my two boys, Dexter and Crosby, have decided that as a special treat we should go for a walk. This is, of course, what Dexter and Crosby decide we should do most days (Dexter is less keen if it is pouring with rain), but today is going to be another walk where we will cover ground that we have not previously walked.
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One of the things that we try to do when staying away is find a local butcher. We have been told that there is one in nearby Chwilog and as soon as we walk through the door we know we are onto a winner. Povey Butchers was established in 1948 and is still run by members of the family. We leave with freshly cut salt marsh lamb chops and some award winning sausages. But before we can enjoy these it is time for a walk.
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The weather is unseasonably cool today, it’s overcast and to borrow a phrase from Christopher Robin ‘Tut-tut it looks like rain”. After my early morning stroll with the boys it is time to settle down to do some work. So it is early afternoon when we hop in the car and drive to the car park at Morfa Mawddach Station to then walk to Barmouth.
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There is one walk in the Dales that I have tried to do every year for as many years as I can remember and that is the trip up Ingleborough. There was one year when I was working in the north that I made a detour on the journey between Middlesbrough and Liverpool just to walk up it. (more…)
After the trauma of wrestling the awning the previous day, Wednesday is a day for catching up. An appointment takes us back to Salisbury and this provides the opportunity to jettison more excess baggage. We pop back to Pitton, Dexter and Crosby are taken for a familiar walk and to Crosby’s delight the brace of partridges that he was stalking a couple of weeks ago are awaiting his arrival. Dexter quickly learnt that once a partridge, or pheasant, is airborne there is no point in expending further energy. The younger Crosby still thinks that if he chases for fifty yards his efforts will be rewarded.
We awake after our first full day on the road and the immediate priority is to check if the awning has survived another night. Whilst I had little doubt in my engineering ability it is still refreshing to see it standing in all it’s regal splendor.
A couple of days left before we kick off on our travels and the sun comes out to help us with our final preparations. Whilst we do another sift of the items that have found their way into the Unicorn, half of which we are sure not to need but still feel essential at this juncture, Dexter takes a relaxed approach and enjoys the spring sun from one of his favourite vantage points.
Meanwhile Crosby continues to vigilantly stand guard, there is no apparent threat, but in Crosby’s world you can never be sure who might want to venture into his designated zone and there is always the distinct possibility that they will have a biscuit in their pocket. Indeed, soon after the picture was taken Crosby’s friend Amber came visiting with her Mum and the anticipated biscuit arrived!
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We have just spent our first night in the Unicorn after moving more of our possessions out of our home. We moved the van onto the site during the afternoon and then returned for a few more hours of packing.
Returning to the Unicorn at 23.30 to find it very cold. Thankfully the heating system soon kicks in to take the chill off and we climb into bed, albeit with thick socks on! A reminder of a childhood with no central heating and tiled floors, waking to frost on the inside of windows. Something that our children find hard to believe, but gives an indication that we were both born in the 1950’s.
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