Due to a combinations of floods and my bad planning in February 2014 I’d ended up with a shorter and wetter walk than I’d planned. When I came home Commando had just returned from his sixteen mile marathon training. We compared notes over a cup of coffee, especially on the flooding at Mansbridge where we’d both been at some point during the afternoon although not at the same time. After we’d finished our coffee Commando suggested going for a little walk, as he’s found it helps stretch his muscles after a long run. Of course I jumped at the chance, especially when he told me where he was thinking of going.
Once I’d left the jetty behind it was back to the meandering trail Which led me through the dappled shade at the edge of Hamble Common to a sign that warned of erosion ahead. At first I was in two minds whether to risk the crumbling path but the bank seemed low, at least at first, and the alternative of walking on the shingle wasn’t very appealing. Ahead I could see the masts of boats and what I thought was Hamble Point. It didn’t look too far so I chose danger over slog. Continue reading grasses, guns and good news
My Sunday walk didn’t finish at the end of the greenway trail. If I only had one day for walking I wanted to fit in a great deal more than six miles. Unfortunately the plan meant the next part would be along the main Bursledon Road with traffic zooming past. At least, being Sunday, there weren’t too many cars and, for a moment, I was tempted to cross the road and grab a coffee in Costa before good sense prevailed. Maybe on the way back… Continue reading Bursledon, windmills, bricks and hills
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 there I was in Universal Boatyard surrounded by boats on dry land and lots of shipwrights looking askance at me. Uncomfortable didn’t even begin to describe it. According to my pre-walk reading I was supposed to go to the right of the boatyard but there didn’t seem to be a path to the right. I walked this way and that, trying not to look too lost or too suspicious but all I could see were dead ends and boats. Continue reading How do I get out of here?
The start to my Tuesday adventure was cold and earlier than I’d have liked on my day off because it relied heavily on public transport. Still, the sky was blue. A march up the Big Hill with puffs of breath hanging white in the air warmed me up and took me to bus stop number one. The bus was on time and I found myself in Woolston with a twenty five minute wait for the next bus. The cold was making my head ache and my walking boots felt unfamiliar on my feet after months of wearing Skechers but I had the feeling I was going to need something waterproof and sturdy. Continue reading Two buses, a little pink ferry and a pair of soggy feet
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