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I trained hard for walk with an evening out in
the company of David, Terri and Jan - some of us drank rather a lot of wine, and we kept
Terri out all evening past curfew (hurrah!) There was more wine on offer back at David's
place, but I was feeling a bit zonked. Although there was every chance it would be
bucketing down in the morning and the whole thing would be called off, I decided to pass
on the additional vino...
Sometime in the early hours I was awoken by the utterly adorable and very loud alarm clock
that is young Mistress Grace Robinson. Strangely, I found her marginally less adorable
than usual at this point...
Peeking through the curtains revealed the day had dawned: bright sunshine and clear blue
skies. Someone Upstairs knew we were planning a(n) (un)sponsored walk, obviously.
A couple of hours later, delicate negotiations began over breakfast and continued for a
while afterwards: David was trying to persuade Tammy, Clara and Grace that joining us for
our nostalgic ramble would be heaps of fun...
Sometime later, we piled into the car and drove to the rendezvous point.
To reveal the number of people on the actual walk itself would be to spoil the fun.
Suffice it to say there were some of us. Although at least one of us had an easy ride and
was carried the whole way...
The sun beat down as we set off down the High Street and across Swavesey playing fields.
It felt like a typical sponsored walk, although there was no Reuben Hopper to point us in
the right direction or shout at First Years who had decided it was an excellent idea to
walk backwards all the way...
Fields, stiles and nettles, all pretty much unchanged. I was amazed that the orchards on
the way up into Over remained open and unfenced - the public footpath still runs right
alongside. There were plums, pears and apples on the trees, and no teachers to curb our
scrumping tendencies. Not that we did any scrumping, but we could have if we'd wanted to.
The trees on Long Furlong were loaded with conkers (mostly unripe) and there were lots on
the ground too. Wouldn't have happened when I was a girl! Passing the village green we
spotted the Fish & Chip Fuhrer trying to flog his wares to the unsuspecting folk of
Over. David and I called him lots of rude names under our breath.
As we walked along Fen End we passed the home of Kevin Unwin, and made a pitstop to say
hello. He was too busy hoovering the croissant crumbs out of his shiny black people
carrier to join us on the walk... although it would also be true to say that he just
didn't get what we were doing at all... and so the hoovering was infinitely more
preferable, I'm sure. His loss.
More narrow paths, convoluted stiles, mud and nettles. The sun was still shining, although
the clouds kept looming up and threatening to spoil the day. The road down to Overcote
seemed endless, especially for the shorter-legged members of our happy band. ("Are we
nearly there yet?") We passed an abandoned bike at the side of the road and the
temptation to try to ride it was tempered by the lack of a seat. Even I wasn't that
desperate...
At last we emerged at Overcote river. Which was largely unchanged, but considerably more
rivery than usual, due to the heavy rains. It was far too wet to sit on the grass, so we
perched on the wall at the top of the slope and ate our picnic lunch. Well... those bits
that weren't still frozen anyway...
An endless stream of cars - folk bringing their dogs for walkies - arrived, drove
cautiously through the lake-sized puddles, circled round, back through the puddles and
then drove away, taking their depressed looking doggies with them.
We were still kicking ourselves for missed opportunities to set Fen tongues wagging as we
packed up. I rather suspect a certain person liked the idea of keeping a harem - but he
didn't think of it until it was too late...
In keeping with tradition, the stile at the top of the bank had a sign on it saying "BULL IN FIELD"
- although it was quite a surprise to actually *see* it. Perhaps we should have been
taking the signs seriously all those years ago. It didn't give us any trouble,
thankfully. I was a bit worried about the sheep on the other side of the river though - we
could hear them but not see them - and they sounded a bit... damp.
We followed the river admiring the wildlife for a bit (crickets, herons, dragonflies and
butterflies), then turned off along something that could almost have been a road. The
blackberries growing along the hedgerows looked wonderful but caused much wincing and
sucking in of breath. Then we had a nettle incident, starting a frantic search for dock
leaves which was eventually successful, but not before we'd (successfully) experimented
with a placebo.
And so at last we entered the final stretch, eventually emerging at the top end of
Swavesey just as it started to spit with rain - although the sun soon returned (this was
a(n) (un)sponsored walk, after all). We were trying to scrape the mud off our boots all
the way back up the High Street towards SVC. And I felt *extremely* virtuous as I resisted
popping into the White Horse for a large glass of chardonnay...
EPILOGUE
I feel it necessary to add that rather than recuperating from the walk in the Youth Club
as in years past, David got home and immediately set about cutting his grass (MORE
walking?! What was that all about?!?), and I spent the rest of the afternoon watching Anastasia
with Clara and trying not to fall asleep. And later, we had sausages and chips for tea.
With Ribena. And THEN we went back to the Black Horse and spent the evening with Jan and
Anne... but that's another story...
I had a lovely day. So if you're interested in joining us as and when we decide to do this
all over again,
please drop me a line
and let us know... |
