Thunder and Lightning Friday morning and we awoke to the crash of thunder – which was, in fact, Julia closing down all the roof lights to stop the rain coming in!! However, it did thunder and lightning and I thought about all the kind family and friends that might think about me this morning when they hear the weather forecast. It’s a welcome change from the intense heat, but of course it will produce mud, so there’s always a fly in the ointment. It’s the first time I’ve written my journal in the morning, as usually it’s all systems go for an early start, but based on the theory that early rain generally clears away within a few hours, I’ve decided to set out later. It’s now 9-20 am and already the sky is clearing. Yesterday the walk from Bidford on Avon to Evesham continued in good fashion until I crossed the border into Worcestershire. Thank you, Warwickshire, for the delight of well-marked footpaths, plus dog-friendly styles and gates in good repair. As I was to walk through Evesham at around midday, Julia met us to do some flag waving and collecting. The people were friendly and generous, especially a coach party of elderly folk who made a big fuss of the dogs. I’d had both of them with me again for the morning, but decided just to take Fritz for the final four miles of the day. On the map it looked straightforward, so we arranged to meet at Elmley Castle in an hour and a half. In the event, it took nearly an hour to get out of Evesham! New houses had been built since the OS map was last revised and the footpath led out into poorly managed overgrown fields. A local lady with a Yorkshire terrier showed me the path ahead, but a farmer (whom she knew well) drew up in his tractor and disagreed with her. She urged me to take no notice of him and waved me off cheerily as I ploughed through some oil seed rape. Managing to reconnect with my planned route, it was tempting to stick to the road and cut out the risk of more footpath trouble, but the hot tarmac surface would be cruel to Fritz’ paws and it’s not always easy to keep him up on the grass verge. So we thrust our way through nettles and hawthorn where a footpath sign pointed into a damson orchard. The next hour or two were truly horrible for both of us, with dilapidated styles covered in dense and savage vegetation, or so dog unfriendly that Fritz had either to struggle over, or be unceremoniously heaved across, which involves divesting myself of backpack, tum-bag, map case and stick. At the last, we finished off with a small length of country lane, instead of the final field of corn that had no footpath marked through it, and were thankful to collapse in Julia’s car. We’re so lucky to have her patiently waiting for us each day. There was no time for relaxation, as we were due to move the motor home to Tewkesbury. The sun was dazzling as we travelled west and it was such a relief at 11 pm to climb the ladder up to my cosy bed over the cab after a particularly exhausting day Meanwhile Tony was forced into activity. Read Grandad-a-t-ease/Tell Tales |