A new trail and a lucky escape

 

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27 January 2015

In the end I decided to carry on and walk down to the start of the Navigation to see how muddy it was. It would be handy to know in case I manage to go to Twford in the near future. A little forwarning is always handy and I could always take the road way back if need be but I’d rather not get half way along and have to turn back. Some fishermen looked up as I passed under the road bridge and I wondered how far along the Navigation I could get in the time available.   Continue reading A new trail and a lucky escape

a different perspective down by the river

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27 January 2015

The weekend had been a little light on the walking front. There was some Sunday retail therapy, when Commando treated me to a slap up lunch in Burger King. Not the most salubrious of establishments I admit but it did give me a different view of the Bargate. Monday was mostly about cooking.  As I had a date with Commando on Tuesday afternoon to take running photos as publicity for his London Marathon fundraising, I thought I’d better get my finger out in the morning and get a few miles in. The original plan had been to take a train to Shawford and have a wander around Twyford before walking back, possibly on the Navigation, mud permitting. This would have been an all day walk though so I had to have a rethink. Continue reading a different perspective down by the river

Moonwalk Deja Vu – first published 9 November 2012

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After my first Moonwalk was over I told anyone who would listen, “never again.” The training took all my spare time. I had horrible blisters, all sorts of aches and pains and some of those long walks in bad weather were the stuff of nightmares. Waking twenty six point two miles around London all through the night was gruelling to say the least, especially for someone who likes to be in bed by eleven. There was a terrific buzz crossing the finish line but it didn’t quite feel worth all that pain. When I said it I really meant it… Continue reading Moonwalk Deja Vu – first published 9 November 2012

Frost, ice crystals, sun and ships

What a difference a day makes
What a difference a day makes

21 – 23 January 2015

Wednesday morning couldn’t have been more different to the day before if it tried. The cold was still there but the beautiful skies I’d seen on my early morning walk were now grey and brooding and the sparkling frost was nowhere to be seen. Seven cygnets were foraging around in the mud by the slipway and, as I passed by, their parents came rushing over to see if there was bread to be had. There wasn’t.

Continue reading Frost, ice crystals, sun and ships

Cold weather eating urges – first published 7 november 2012

 

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As someone who has always struggled with my weight winter is a testing time. The cold weather brings on cravings for stodgy comfort food while, at the same time, there is less opportunity for exercise. Let’s face it, we’d all like to snuggle up in front of the fire with a big box of chocolates or a bowl of sticky hot pudding and custard. Doing that for three months of the year would really pile on the pounds though so it’s something most of us fight. This post from the archives is all about why it happens and how I try to beat the cravings. Continue reading Cold weather eating urges – first published 7 november 2012

Oh what a beautiful morning

Another hairy gate post
Another hairy gate post

20 January 2015

The Tuesday walk was more or less cancelled due to me having to go to work for the morning because of a bit of a staffing issue. When I say more or less, what I mean is, I still got to walk to and from work which was better than nothing. Commando Junior and I had been out on Monday evening unsuccessfully looking for Comet Lovejoy. Even at eight o’clock in the evening the frost was already turning the tops of the cars white so I knew it was going to be a chilly walk to work, especially as I was leaving an hour earlier than normal. Continue reading Oh what a beautiful morning

What exactly is power walking? – first published 6 November 2012

A cold and frosty morning
A cold and frosty morning

Although no one has actually laughed at me in the street to the best of my knowledge, I’ve been told my walking style is a little odd. Personally being thought a little odd doesn’t particularly worry me. It does worry Commando slightly to be seen with me when I’m walking fast but I figure that’s his problem not mine. Fast walking, or power walking, is not as simple as it might seem, as the following post from my archives explains. Continue reading What exactly is power walking? – first published 6 November 2012

Botley Mills, the water that has passed

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18 Janaury 2015

The village of Botley grew up around a ford over the River Hamble surrounded by the beautiful Hamble Valley countryside. The water of the Hamble turned the mill wheels at Botley Flour Mills for many centuries. Part of my reason for walking the four and a half miles to Botley was to visit Botley Mills. Ok, so I’d got ever so slightly distracted by all the wonderful old buildings in the village, not to mention the church but, finally, I walked down Mill Hill to the mills. Continue reading Botley Mills, the water that has passed

So many buildings, so little time

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18 January 2015

When I left the church I had warming coffee on my mind and a hope that I’d find some somewhere in the village. Botley is a village of quaint old buildings that have been standing for centuries. Many are a little crooked and, although some of the businesses are modern, the place has an old world feel to it, like stepping back into another, gentler time. Next to the church was a terrace of red brick cottages, all the same except for their doors, which opened almost onto the street. For some reason nearly every door had a sign saying ‘please use back door,’ and I wondered why. Beyond them I could see an A frame sign on the street, maybe it was a coffee shop. Continue reading So many buildings, so little time

Botley, at last and a church to explore

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18 Jauary 2015

Botley began life as a Saxon village and the name means Botta’s leah, or a clearing in a forest belonging to a man named Botta. When the Romans built a road between Chichester and Clausentum, where my village now is, it passed Botley and a settlement grew up around the small Saxon one. Although I’ve visited it once or twice, mostly I’ve just driven through on the way to somewhere else and I’ve never really explored it properly. This turns out to be a terrible omission on my part because it has a lot to offer. Continue reading Botley, at last and a church to explore