It was late afternoon when we left Crawley Road and headed down the footpath I’d spotted on the map. I wasn’t entirely confident that I knew where I was going but I was keeping quiet about that fact. We passed a row of picture postcard cottages. There was a grassy field to our left and the track was wide and mostly paved. It must lead somewhere, even if that somewhere was not where we wanted to go. I hoped where it led was not a wild goose chase because we’d been walking more or less constantly for several hours at this stage and Commando might like to run marathons, but he’s not so keen on walking them.
Continue reading The River Windrush and a surprise blanket factory