Tag: Swaythling

The flower roads

Langhorn Road

On 11 August 2021, I’d been to look at the repairs to Woodmill, but this was just the first part of a much longer walk. In fact, Woodmill and the repairs were almost incidental. The main aim of my walk was flowers, although maybe not the kind you’re expecting. Once I’d inspected the new brickwork at the mill I carried on along Woodmill Lane, over the little railway bridge, and crossed the road at the junction of Portswood Road and High Road. I was heading for Swaythling.

Continue reading The flower roads

Hobbling to The Running School

10 July 2018

The back thing did not disappear as unexpectedly as it came. It dragged on and on… For the last three weeks the pain has been more or less incapacitating. It’s worse when I stand still or sit down, sleeping is also a bit of an issue, as is walking, bending, more or less everything really. So  I’ve been hobbling around with a horrible pain in my right leg, hip and back and a trio of numb toes. Needless to say, there hasn’t been much real walking going on apart from the odd limp up to the village and back. Continue reading Hobbling to The Running School

Casting clouts, nesting swans and a coffee disaster, almost…

12 April 2017

Reluctantly we’d left the cool green shade of Monks Brook. We crossed the road by the Swaythling railway arch and, for a moment or two, I dithered, torn between walking through Monks Brook Meadows or the less scenic but more direct route along Wide Lane. In the end I thought about my recovering knee and the distance we’d be covering and decided on short and less sweet. The first hawthorn flowers of spring spilling over a garden wall seemed to be a sign I’d made the right decision.  Continue reading Casting clouts, nesting swans and a coffee disaster, almost…

An invitation I couldn’t refuse

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19 April 2015

Some time ago I had a comment on my blog, followed up by an email, about an organised walk. It was from a man I’d never met, a local councillor, occasional contributer to the Southampton Heritage Page and, it turns out, reader of my blog. As you know, I mostly walk alone and I’m not a great fan of organised walks. This one was in an area I knew very well, or thought I did, but the words history and nature jumped off the page. It sounded like an invitation I couldn’t refuse and when I spotted a poster for the very same walk on my way back from Lakeside last week it seemed like an omen. Continue reading An invitation I couldn’t refuse