FOREST WAY - 28 MILES

Hello again Dear Reader,

Well, you would think I had learnt my lesson after the exploits in the lakes last week, but sadly not! I have planned to do a walk in excess of 25 miles every week until I do the challenge. However, after this one, and no sign I am finding this any easier, I am not so sure. This is the 3rd over 25 miles challenge walk I have done recently, and they do not seem to be getting any easier, though perhaps the recovery times are shortening.

I was originally planning to to do the Tunbridge Wells 25 mile circular walk, but Karen was not keen on travelling down there to meet me, so she chose this little beauty! This walk is a linear walk in a snake like fashion winding from Epping Forest in the south and ending in Hatfield Forest, which is weirdly near Bishop Storford, not Hatfield, in the north. The Long Distance Walkers Associate book says this is a 25 miles walk, but I have plotted it on my route mapping device and it is just shy of 27 miles, and as you will find out, with corrections on route, ended up being at least 28 in the end.

It was a little easier travel with Rufus on this trek over the Thames path trek a few weeks ago. All I had to do was walk to Finsury Park Tube and catch Victoria Line to Walthamstow, and then a number 20 bus to Loughton Station where I would walk to Epping Forest to start the walk. It was a chilly day with the potential for showers so I had a selection of clothing changes including fleece and waterproofs. I had my big pack on, as this is better for your lower back.

I set off about 09.15 and reached Epping Forest about 30 minutes later to start the walk proper. Apart from the forest sections, there was not much to endear this trek to the walker, so this will mainly be a few shots to show the reader what it was like on the route.

Epping Forest in the morning light

Interesting tree looking like some spooky ghost!

More shots of Epping

Rufus waits patiently

I read in my book that this route was waymarked, which was important as I was not using a map beyond Harlow, and would depend on signs should my iphone battery fail me. It took until I was way outside Epping Forest for the first evidence there were waymark signs, but this reassured me. I was hoping I wouild see many more of these little green badges nailed to posts along the way, but they were seldom seen to be honest.

One thing this walk reminded me of, was the importance on not relying on an electronic device, and to revert to traditional maps and compass as a reliable fall back. I had noted that my phone battery was reducing at an alarming rate, and I realised after 7 miles, this was because I was stupidly recording the walk, so I ended that programme and prayed there would be enough battery to last me the entire 27 miles. The fact I ended up doing 28 miles is testament to the fact it didn't last!! 

The route was across varied landscapes, predominantly via wooded areas in keeping with the name of the challenge, but also across farmland, including crops and livestock. However, it also cross the M25 once and the M11 3 times!! Whilst it essentially had a peaceful, rural and tranquil feel, you could always hear the swish of motorway traffic the entire route. it is a shame these dirty, noisy strips of tarmac are allowed to pierce our beautiful countryside, but we all use them, so can't really complain. it would just be such a shame to live here and have that constant drone.

Crossing the M25 just north of Epping Forest.

Here are a selection of the more open landscape scenery I crossed through.

Occasionally, the path as very well defined as in the picture below. I loved these sections, where I could just walk on and admire the scenery without resorting to viewing my sat nav to make sure I was on the right track.

What on the map looked like it would be a farm track turned out to be a lovely green track lined with tall trees. This went on for about 2 miles, so a lovely section of the walk.

Now, because I had to turn off record on my phone, I had no idea how far I had travelled, and neglected to attach my pedometer to keep track, so I was judging distance by time. My pace is generally 3 miles per hour, and therefore, at each quarter past the hour, I was mentally totting up my miles. I thought therefore, after 4 hours, I would be just about half way. This would be just south of Harlow, where I joined the Stort Valley Way. Here I had to enter into a really enclosed part of the trek, which was labelled Forest Way, but did not look like anyone had ever walked this way, exemplified by several fallen trees I had to climb over.

Eventually, I came into Mark Bushes, which is a weird name for a forest, but that is what i came into. Whilst the walk was along the western edge of the wood, I decided to trek deeper in to have my lunch and give Rufus a well deserved tripe stick.I sat on my coat, but Rufus had an uncomfortable 10 minutes sitting on bramble thorns!

There were lovely clumps of primulas in the forest and I got this lovely shot of Rufus sitting on a carpet of the flowers.

When I got to the outskirts of Harlow, I noted my path had to go right through the middle of a gypsy camp. It was fine, and well kept, but they had horses pegged out everywhere eyeing Rufus suspiciously, and worse, packs of ferile dogs off the leash.  They bounded over and gave Rufus a noisy escort from the camp. His face turned to one of abject boredom with it all after about 2 minutes, so I told the buggers to f***off home, as it was getting tedious.

In this modern age, with most of the camp dwellers driving massive range rovers and camper vans, I am mystified what they need all these massive horses for.

Here Rufus gets past another massive horse in Harlow.

It was soon after Harlow I had to cross my next motorway, the M11 which would be the first of 3 bloody times I had to snake my way along this monstrosity.

M11 crossing no. 1

Lovely field of rape seed in the late afternoon

I eventually came through an absolutely gorgeous village called Matching Tye. I only regretted not bringing a tie along from work to take a photo of myself next to the village sign with my tie round my neck. Ha, ha!

The houses were all timber framed and gorgeous withe lovely gardens.

Soon after Matching Tye I had to curve around the impressive Down Hall hotel, complete with woodland, as expected for this walk. I then came across this man made lake whcih added a little interest to a bleak farm landscape.

It was now I cross the M11 for the second time - oh joy of joys!

M11 crossing no. 2

My feet were now in agony, particularly my ankles for some reason. I was at about the 20 mile mark which always seem to be about my limit of comfortable walking. Once good thing though was that Rufus appeared not to be displaying any problems like last time. he even posed for this lovely shot!

As we got to about 5pm, I calculated I had walked 23 miles and had 4 more to go I felt, but my feet were so sore now, I was down to funereal pace. Karen had planned to get to Hatfield Forest for about 6pm, but I had no idea if I could make it in that time.

This was my last woodland shot - Monks Wood

The fact I took no more pictures after this is testament to the pain I was feeling, but also, due to the fact I kept getting pelted by massive hailstones. It also was a problem to read my sat nav on my iphone, as it requires a password to enter, and every time I tried to punch the number in, a hailstone would hit and that would register the wrong password!! My phone was also down to its last 10%, and I was terrified it would switch off before I found Karen.

I had just got past Lodge farm on the outskirts of Hatfield Forest, and had strictly told Karen to only ext as I needed to preserve my phone battery. However, she did call to ask where to meet me. I might be wrong, but I do blame this call for what happened next. We agreed I would meet at the National Trust Car Park, but I was in such a hurry to get Karen off the phone I did ask which one! I now entered the forest and it was getting really late, at 6.30 pm. Karen tried texting to ask if we should meet elsewhere, but all I could type was "Just ..." and then bam! my phone gave up the ghost! I was in agony, and it was pissing down with rain, and I was in the middle of a massive forest in the gloom, with absolutely no idea where I was, or more importantly, where the bloody hell Karen was!! Arghhhhh!

I had a vague idea the car park on the sat nav before it blinked off was to the right, so I trudged off into the failing light in that vague direction. After about 1 mile, I came to a NT Car park. Eureka! I thought. However, this car park was empty and was called Car Park 1. this led me to think there must be a car park 2, and possibly 3 and 4..... I thought if I follow the road away from this car park, it may lead to another, so off I trudged. However, I soon realised this road winded on into the distance for at least a mile, and I was hopelessly lost. I have to admit, I started to panic. there was not a soul anywhere and it was starting to get dark.

I decided to trek back to teh car park and through the back of the visitor centre, all closed and deserted. I treked around the lake and just trudged off along a board walk into nothingness. As I came out of the wood into a clearing, I could see people on the horizon, so I actually started sprinting!! Can you imagine, 28 miles and agonised pain in my feet, and there I was sprinting like Lynford Christie! Well, perhaps not like Lynford, but something approximating that in my mind. I was shouting, "Do you know where the car park is?" but couldn't hear the answer so carried on running. What a berk! As I got to them, they were right next to CAR PARK NO. 2!! And guess what? Yes, there was Karen's car! I had made it at last.

All I have to show for this gargantuan effort now is aching limbs and a massive blister on my heel. See evidence below!

Well dear reader, this was one hell of a challenge again, and I have it all to do again in 2 weeks when I attempt the Yorkshire 3 peaks challenge as my final training walk. I do not want to do anymore 25 mile plus walks after that as it is simply too knackering.

The St Sunday Blast!

Hello there Dear Reader,

As promised, I attempted the monster 25 miles, 15 peaks marathon on Wednesday 17th April, with Karl, who is doing the 6 peak challenge with me in June. The walk was originally intended for Friday having warmed up for the challenge with a couple of more gentle treks. Also, the weather for Friday is looking really good, with bright, unbroken, warm sunshine. However, Wednesday is due to be wet, cold and more significantly, very windy, with gusts up to 70 mph at ground level. Hmm......

Before I start to recount my epic trek, I need to apologise for the lack of photos. This is on account of the weather we encountered, and the fact, not only was it wet, well, more a deluge, but also foggy, and with a wind so strong, I couldn't stand upright, and mostly anything not tied down, was simply blown away, including trousers! More of that later...

We set off at 06.20 in the morning, and the plan was to walk to Threlkeld, via 15 peaks over 23 miles, with important diversions to ensure we ascended to summit ridges, and descended to ground level on as many occasions as possible to maximise the energy output. We hiked from Ambleside to Rydal in overcast conditions and arrived at the familiar cottage owned by my cousins from where I based myself when completing the majority of the Wainwright peaks in my youth. To date, I reckon I have done circa 190 of the 214 recognised Lakeland peaks.

I used to just call my Auntie and book ahead, and was able to stay free of charge in one of the most scenic locations in England.

We carried on past Rydal Mount, next door, the former home of Wordsworth, and climbed up the long path to the initial summit. By the time we were to the first style on Nab Scar, at the start of the Fairfield range, the rain was starting to fall, but as yet, the wind was not present.

I took the opportunity to get a snap in looking back at the classic Windermere view, not realising this might be the last opportunity to take a shot in relative calm.

Rufus not playing ball to pose for the camera!

 Just to remind you, the plan for the day was to climb over Nab Scar, Heron Pike, Great Rigg, then descend down to Grizedale before climbing Seat Sandal. Then to descend back to Grizedale and ascend the treacherous St Sunday Crag before descending to Patterdale via Birks where we would drop off Rufus to spare his aching limbs.

We would then climb up Striding Edge to Helvellyn, before collecting a further 8 peaks on the way to threlkeld.  I reckoned the walk to Patterdale would be 9  - 10 miles, so I  told Karen to meet us at 10.30 to give us 4 hours at a leisurely pace to make it to the first stop.

Here is the itinerary for the day again:

1. Nab Scar 1,477 ft
2. Heron Pike 2,009 ft
3. Great Rigg 2,514 ft
4. Seat Sandal 2,416 ft
5. Fairfield 2,865 ft
6. St Sunday Crag 2,760 ft Descend to Patterdale to Climb Striding Edge
7. Birks 2,041 ft
8. Helvellyn 3,118 ft (second highest mountain in England)
9. Nethermost Pike 2,954 ft
10. Dollywaggon Pike 2,861 ft
11. Whiteside 2,832 ft
12. Raise 2,898 ft
13. Stybarrow Dodd 2,767 ft
14. Watson's Dodd 2,589 ft
15. Great Dodd 2,813 ft
16. Clough Head 2,383 ft

As I mentioned, by the time we got to Nab Scar, the rain was pouring down and it was starting to get blustery. It was tough going fighting against the wind and rain but to our advantage, it was coming at us from the west so into our left side and manageable. Here you can still see quite far into the near distance, though not to the surrounding mountains or lakes.

By the time we curved eastwards to reach Fairfield we had the wind and rain at our backs, so were being pushed at a cantor towards the summit cairn and shelter.

Karl and Rufus being pushed to the summit of Fairfield

Karl's face tells the story of how bad the conditions were getting

We now had to descend sharply about 1,000 ft to Grizedale Tarn and this meant walking into the now bitter and very strong wind. Little did we know, the weather was about to turn even worse. Karl had forgotten his poles, and I did not want to take my pack off to get mine out, as our clothes were soaked through and it was too windy. Our gloves were just blocks of soggy ice cold water and our fingers were getting stiff with the cold. The time was now 09.30 and it was obvious we had absolutely no chance of making it to Patterdale for 10.30. I therefore had to get my dripping wet iphone out of my pocket and try to speed dial Karen to say we would be late. I couldn't get my soggy gloves to connect with Karen, so reluctantly, I had to remove my gloves which I knew meant I would struggle to get them back on. I told Karen we would be at least another 2 hours so we would meet about Midday. Karen, worryingly said she was already at Kitrkstone, and even there, the winds were so fierce, she did not dare return to Ambleside, and would simply wait for us at Patterdale.

The ascent of Seat Sandal was very steep and by now, visibility was down to only 10 yards at most. We were not celebrating any peaks attained by now, just marching on past. This was a new one for Karl, and I had to persuade him to even divert to the summit cairn, the weather was that bad. We wanted to get back out of the wind down at Grizedale Tarn if we could, so set off as fast as we could.

You can see from this image that visibility by now was very bad, and we had to ensure we stuck together.

Look closely, we are walking along the shore of Grizedale Tarn. it is there, I promise you!

There was absolutely no evidence of the minor path from Grizedale to St Sunday Crag, so we had to revert to the sat navs to pin point the relevant point to strike off up the hill into nothingness. By now, we were increasingly often coming upon large patches of snow across the paths. You had to divert around these, because they were incredibly unstable. As the snow melts, it does so from underneath, and in places, the snow may only be 12 inches deep, with a space up to 3 foot deep below, where you could twist an ankle or worse. This meant we often had to climb, and scramble over rocks to circumnavigate the ice. 

However, Rufus on the other hand loved the snow patches, and was happy digging away, with no danger of him falling through.

Rufus digs away.

The climb up the steep side of St Sunday Crag was absolutely endless. Once we got onto the summit ridge it was like we were in the Antarctic in terms of the weather conditions. The entire ridge, which is only about 20 feet wide at most, was covered in a perilous crust of snow sometimes up to 3 feet deep.

You can see Karl's footprints leading out of the snow.

If the wind was blowing at 70 mph down at ground level (as reported in the news), it was easily up to 100 mph on the top of St Sunday Crag. You could hear it coming as it roared up both sides of the knife edge ridge of the crag. As it hit, you had no idea if it would come from the left or the right, from straight on, or from behind, so there was no way to brace yourself. Each time it hit you were battered off in the direction you were hit, stumbling up to 20 yards towards the sheer drop either side. Often, the wind was so violent, you simply were blown over. I also found that my waterproof trousers simply acted like a kite, and meant I sometime literally was lifted off the ground and dumped several feet further away. I even had to suffer the indignity of my over-trousers being blown down to my knees on occasion! Poor Rufus simply ran with the wind until it stopped and then trooped on back to my side. He looked so miserable.

It was such a struggle to keep upright, and we were involuntarily having to run a lot with the wind, so when we were not straining to stand upright, we were springing off in one direction after another. We were getting exhausted, and then Karl got cramp in his thigh. He had to sit and extract a chcolate bar to get some energy in him

As we were absolutely soaked through, Karl had asked if he could put his iphone into my map case as this was probably the only thing about us that was dry. I too put my phone in the case which was around my neck. However, along with all my backpack straps, this appendage simply kept slapping me in my face top add to my woes. Then disaster! I got blown over again and the map case was literally ripped from me, and we both saw the case, along with our phones, and only means of communication sailing off into nothingness!!!!!! I know I looked as arse, as Karl said so, but I sprinted after the tumbling case shouting, " the phones are in there, the phones"!!! I saw it wedged between 2 rocks and pounced to ensure it didn't set off into the sky again. However, I fell into snow up to my waist and twisted around onto my back swearing, "You bastard, you f****** bastard". At the same time, Karl came crashing over, skidding on ice, and cracked his knee on a rock as he sank into the snow. he let out a yelp, and further choice words about the weather.

I got out my soggy iphone and managed to call Karen, and rather over dramatically said, " We are in a bad way up here Babes, we are trapped and can't move on". We were so far behind schedule now, it was ridiculous. I think it was about 12.30 already and we had been on the go for 6 hours. We set off, fighting the wind, but desperate to get down off the top of the ridge to get out of the wind. however, we had literally been blown off course, and ended up on Gavel Pike which was a new one for Karl, so he was delighted! However, this meant we were about 2 miles off course. We had to trudge across pathless heather to get back on to the path, but we had difficult scrambling ahead as we were coming down via Birks now, and not the gentler slope down to Patterdale.

Here at last, we got our first sight of Ullswater with Patterdale at its head. There was clearly no chance on earth we could go on any further. We were absolutely spent.

Our first sight of Ullwater!

We staggered on down to Patterdale to the White Horse where Karen had been waiting in the car for over 2½ hours! We arrived at 3.40pm for a stage we predicted would be done by 10.30 am. In all, it has taken us over 8 hours to walk 12 miles (of which at least 2 miles were diversions caused by the wind up there).

We opted for a nice pub lunch and a pint instead of torturing ourselves any more. I don't feel bad in any way we did not tackle the other half of the walk. The conditions were atrocious, and we far exceeded what could be expected of ourselves in these circumstances. It  was a feat of navigation that we managed to get back at all.

Roll on the next challenge training walk, and see if I can get better weather next time!

Henley-on-Thames to Windsor - 25 Mile Walk

Hello there Dear Reader,

I am stepping up the training as we get nearer to the big challenge. There is only 2 months to go now, so despite the plans for the massive walk in the Lakes next Wednesday, I decided to go all out for a 25 mile walk on Saturday 13th April.

I was reticent about walking from Henley due to complex travel arrangements with Rufus, but the distance on my planner at 25 miles was what I was looking for. It also offered ample opportunities to break off early and get a train back to Paddington from other stations along the route should either I or Rufus not be up for it.

The route to Henley meant I would have to take Rufus down to Finsbury Park tube station and catch the Victoria Line to Kings Cross, change and catch the Metropolitan  Line to Paddington. Change and catch a train to Twyford. Change then catch a hopper train to Henley. Also, within all that is an escalator which Rufus is terrified of.

When I got to the ticket office at Finsbury Park, an African lady literally started screaming saying "please, please!" to me. I was totally bemused and asked what the problem was. She said she was scared of dogs! How can anyone be scared of cute little Rufus? he looked on, equally bemused at the whole affair.

I managed to get to Kings Cross no problem, but did notice Rufus is also terrified of Tube trains, which was upsetting. When I got to the escalator, I went to pick him up, but he was cowering in fear. I managed to gather him up and console him on the way up, so he was OK when I got him back on terra firma.

We finally got on the Twyford train and Rufus is strangely very calm on overground trains, and simply settles in. We got an earlier train so time for a nice relaxing coffee at Twyford before getting the Henley train.We arrived at Twyford at a very respectable 9am, ready for the long days march ahead.

Henley - the start of my journey for the day.

View upstream from Henley

It was heartening to see how many boat crews were out on the water under instruction. The future is certainly bright when it comes to rowing in this country.

Henley Regatta

Looking down stream from Henley

I was hoping the Thames Path would not be like this all the way or me feet would be mush. I can't stand walking on pavements on long walks. However, equally, I like to be able to push-off so here's hoping the ground improves. Also, the weather was holding out at this stage, so all looking good.







It didn't take long for Rufus to go for his first dip. We could still see Henley in the distance and he was in!

First dip of many for the day.

There's no need to shout!

It became clear the narrow track was not a benevolent inclusion for walkers along the Thames Path, but a means for rowing coaches to thunder down the river barking orders via megaphone to exhausted crews.

Soon after this point, I came across an elderly crew with the coach shouting at them saying it was their tiredness that was leading them to veer towards the bank, and they should focus on this on the way back! I wonder how many were still alive when they got back?

View of one of the many islets along the Thames

One of the many massive houses along the Thames. This one was like the White House!

I came eventually to Hambleden Lock at the point of a massive weir. This was the site of Hambleden Mill which still exists but is Yuppie apartments now.

That's Weird!

I took Rufus over to the mid-point of the river to see the Mill, and it was a bit precarious for poor  Rufie.

Rufus had to navigate this narrow walk way to the Mill.

Here it is in all its glory.

On the way back, Rufus had to walk over this slatted walk way and was terrified, but managed it by clinging to the edge!

Don't worry, it will soon be over!

Phew! Glad that's over!

Once you get to a posh town, you always have to come away from the river because the toffs buy up all the river banks as gardens, so us plebs have to walk around.  This often meant long detours. I didn't really mind, as it offered a different aspect in terms of views and broke up the monotony of watching a river flowing inexorably towards London.

I had to go through a massive estate through a deer park. It was lovely and the ground soft underfoot, always with a reassuring view of the river to the left.

The Estate Lodge at the entrance.

The Deer Park

The Thames below

The estate Manor

Some of the houses that fronted onto the Thames were simply amazing. This one had a ruin merged into it as a folly. I don't even think it was a hotel. Someone actually lives there!

Then I came to a small community on the banks of another island in the river. It merged into a sort of vile holiday park. I felt myself wondering why anyone would buy one of the units behind the river fronted ones where the only access to the river was the same as I could benefit from without living in a horrid condo. Well, Rufus decided to have a poo here, so it says a lot!

You got quite a few pleasure boats, and I noticed there are quite a lot of steam boats this far down the Thames.

Steam Boat Willie

Rufus is in again!

You often had to cross over the river at locks which offered good opportunities for great views like this.

I came to Temple Lock and saw this interesting sign. well, if I was intending on walking to London from here, after I had already done about 10 miles I would have been disheartened to see another 58 miles to go.

I wonder if you could actually walk that far in a day if you had a gun to head?

Here are some more beautiful images of my little boy Rufus!

He looks like he's having a wee!

I came across this amazing church on the banks of the river. What a great view of you happened to be buried there. Probably more one for the mourners than the dead of course!

I eventually came to the very wealthy looking town of Marlow. Since I was not using a map of any description, I had no idea where the path was going to take me. I naively thought it would all be along the river bank. Where can you go wrong! Anyway, I got a nice ice cream here, and the weather looked like it might break through the clouds. I had just had one of those surreal telephone conversations with my Mum before arriving here. Despite the fact she lives 250 miles away, she has a habit of saying things like,"well the weathers great for a walk, you've got lovely clear skies and beautiful sunshine. I have to remind her it may well be nice in sunny Accrington, but not where I am 250 miles away.

The bridge at Marlow

It was here I found Marlow had bought all the river banks and again, had to troop off out of the town for about a mile away from the river. I couldn't believe how far away I had to go to get around.

View from bridge as I was leaving Marlow, on what I thought was a short detour

As it happened, I must have gone wrong. More because I had no map and was not expecting to have to navigate around rich land owners. As it happened my detour was a welcome one. I ended up connecting with the Chiltern Way which provided much better scenery and something I had missed all day - hills to climb! Seriously, I love climbing upwards.

Rufus waiting for me to catch up.

Interesting change in scenery

I came down from the fell tops to river level, but still ½ mile away from the Thames. However, there was loads of flood water left over from recent snow and rain.

This was my path!

I came down to Cookham, expecting to rejoin the path. However, after an hour away from the Thames path, it was too much to hope this village would allow a lesser mortal as me sully their banks with my boot marks. No sooner had I arrived than I was directed along the busiest road I can ever recall walking along. It was so ironic to see these signs stating you were on the Thames path, when clearly you were just on a motorway. Unfortunately, some wag had bent the bloody sign to point the wrong way, so I added an extra mile to my tortuous journey. What a complete tool!!

As soon as I got back to the river, all Rufus wanted to do was get straight in.

He looks guilty, so I suspect he is actually weeing!

Rufus finds a new friend

We ended up walking across what looks like someone's neatly coiffeured lawn!

Photos will get very scarce now, as I am starting to suffer. I got to Maidenhead where I could theoretically have stopped if I choose. I had done 18 miles by then, and it would have been a nice comfortable days outing. However, I saw the sign saying it was only 6 miles to Windsor. That seemed such a small amount in the grand scheme of things. It was only 3.30pm and I reckoned I could do that in 2 hours easy. However, in retrospect, it might have been better to save my poor feet for Wednesday's challenge than carry on on hard ground. I got to the 3 mile marker and my feet were agony. I tried singing out loud to pretend it didn't hurt, but there was no kidding, my feet were in agony, particularly my right heel. It is so frustrating when you think, "oh, my sock is folded over on my heel. I'll just take my boot off to straighten it out." However, when you remove your boot, you see your sock is smooth as a baby's butt, so you're just going to have to live with the pain. There is no pulling out now. it also started to rain really heavily now just to add to my misery.

I eventually got to the outskirts of Windsor on the Eton side, and can see the tantalising glimpses of Windsor over on the other side.I was in such pain, I had taken to asking people how far to the railway station. These are a collection of the responses:

1. "Well, go down the path as far as you can see to the end of the river, then turn right and go over the bridge to Windsor." So I had visions of walking to Whitstable as the Thames meets the sea, and my heart sank.
2. "Huh, huh, make sure you turn onto the bridge because the waters deep down there- ha ha ha ha!" Oh, I chortled with him as he lay at my feet in a pool of blood!
3. "Oh yes dear, are you wanting the river station, because that's just over there. No? Oh dear, you want the central station if you need to go to Paddington. In that case, you've got quite a walk still to go. Never mind!"

So I trudged on at a funeral pace until I came to the Windsor and Eton Bridge. Eureka! I am within touching distance of the end. 

It is such a shame I was not in the right frame of mind to appreciate Windsor. It was absolutely lovely, enveloped in the castle as if the town was just squashed around the existing fortress.

I limped into the station only to have to run the last 100 yards to catch the 17.40 train to Slough.

Destination at last!

I asked Karen to pick me up from Finsbury park station. it is only ½ mile to home from there, but I have absolutely nothing else to prove to you by now dear reader.

Now we just have to hope I have repaired enough for the really big one on Wednesday. I will report how I got on.