Despite my marathon walk on Friday, the walking wasn’t over for the last weekend of April 2013. Commando had a race to run and it was in an area I’d wanted to explore for some time. Of course I had to go along to cheer him on and have a little wander while he was running. Getting lost and getting wet were both distinct possibilities but when have I ever let that stop me? Continue reading a Sunday race and a different river – first published 28 April 2013
29 July 2015
We’d taken the shortest, straightest route from the Cathedral to Old Sarum but, when I’d been planning the trip, I’d seen what I thought was another, far more scenic route. Whether it was actually possible to walk it was another matter so I thought I’d save it for the return journey. If we got completely lost we’d just keep walking south and hope we’d find Salisbury eventually… Probably. Continue reading Homeward bound, trails, haunted bridges, shopping trolleys and mills
29 July 2015
When we got inside the cathedral one of the first things we noticed was another of the strange, colourful knights, this was smaller than the first. Something about it felt very familiar and, when I spotted a whole row of them behind him, I realised what it was. this was a sculpture trail like our very own rhinos. Later Googling told me it was called the Baron’s Charter Trail, set up by the Trussell Trust and Wild in Art to celebrate eight hundred years of Magna Carta. It started on 12 June and ends on 6 September. If only I’d known earlier I’d have done some research and we could have gone hunting. Continue reading Salisbury cathedral, a slight case of sensory overload
29 July 2015
Eight hundred years ago the tyrant King John was forced to sign Magna Carta at Runnymead. Parchment copies were sent out to the English county courts and, today, four of those copies survive. One is currently on display at Salisbury Cathedral and it was Commando’s idea for me to take CJ to have a look at it. Many years ago I regularly frequented a pub called The George in Salisbury and the spire of the cathedral has often felt like the first sight of home at the end of long journeys. Even so, I’d never visited the cathedral and I couldn’t remember the last time I visited Salisbury. All in all it seemed like a good plan for the last day of my holiday so, early on Wednesday morning, we got on a train bound for Wiltshire. Continue reading A different shire, a tall spire and Magna Carta
26 July 2015
We left the Physic garden and made for the Thames. The rain had stopped but the sky still looked threatening as we stood on the riverbank. At that point there was quite a temptation to find the nearest tube station and get back to Waterloo as quickly as possible. Another four miles or so didn’t seem all that tempting but there were still a couple of items on the agenda. Continue reading Chasing pigs on the wing
26 July 2015
During the early miles of Moonwalk 2013, I noticed a mysterious looking door in a high brick wall as we were making our way through Chelsea. A sign told me this was the Chelsea Physic garden and, of all the things I saw during that long, long night, the name stuck in my mind. I wanted to see behind that door. Finally, more than two years later, I was going inside. Admittedly, it was a miserable wet day and I had CJ with me so I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be quite what I’d imagined. Continue reading So many flowers, so little time
26 July 2015
If the first part of our London adventure was mostly about graffiti, the second half was going to be mostly about flowers. The graffitifest was a sweetner to stop CJ complaining too much about what was to come. Chelsea was next on the agenda, a certain physic garden to be exact, and I wasn’t entirely sure CJ was going to find it as exciting as I did. Although he didn’t know it, my itinerary was fairly ambitious distance wise too. CJ walks a fair bit but I thought a half marathon, plus some, might stretch him a little so I’d broken it down into segments, “just over three miles to Chelsea, are you OK with that? We can always get the tube?” So far he was fine but we’d walked less than four miles. Still, the rain had turned to drizzle and, being London, there was plenty to take our minds off both rain and miles. Continue reading I don’t want to go to Chelsea
13 July 2015
On a bit of a whim I decided to get a train to Winchester on Monday morning. It wasn’t the best of weather but CJ said he’d like to come along too, especially when I said I’d be heading for Plague Pits Valley near St Catherine’s Hill. Maybe if he’d known how much walking was involved he’d have been less eager but I kept that little detail to myself. We were lucky and caught the fast train. Apart from a teeny bit of getting lost when we first left the station, we were soon walking down the High Street in search of a coffee to keep us going for the walk. Continue reading Winchester, weirs and castles
25 April 2015
A few years ago I made a cock up of monumental proportions on the Twilight Race For Life. Basically I turned up on the wrong night, one day after the race, dressed in bright pink, with my race number pinned to me and covered in glo sticks. As mistakes go it was a big one and embarrassing but, to put matters right, I walked more than the distance involved, dressed in my stupid pink costume, all alone, at night and feeling like a total idiot. On Saturday we discovered someone else had made an error that made mine look like a tiny faux pas. Let me start at the beginning…. Continue reading Monumental cock up on the London Marathon front
22 April 2015
When I said I thought I might go to Portchester Castle on Wednesday Commando Junior’s ears pricked up. He got that look, like a puppy that wants you to take it for a walk, and I knew it would be cruel not to take him with me. Bearing in mind the Tuesday debacle when I ended up dashing home in a panic I checked out the train times carefully and told him, if he didn’t get up in time, I’d go without him. It did the trick and we set off bright and early for the train station. Continue reading Portchester Castle, stinky moats, prison cells and scary stairs