Plain sight


VERY annoyingly have just spent an hour writing today’s post, on a smartphone, and it wiped. So here’s the potted version. Salisbury Plain is bleak, atmospheric, unnavigable and thunderous with weapons training. The famous Crown at Everleigh is derelict but i scraped my boots on the iron scraper, went round to the stable yard and tried to picture Cobbett and the inn’s heyday. Respect to the ancient byways of Britain, i thought as i stood on one, texting. I put the phone away. Went wild swimming in Figheldean, a tricky business because i had no togs, but i moved fast and only at the water’s edge reviewed my choice of top, selected for its nylonness and thus easy dry. It was also high viz – not the covert swimmer’s first call. Tomorrow is the last day and the forecast is brutal but my father has killed the fatted casserole and is standing by to throw me, wet and muddy, into a hot bath. 21 miles at least of slog in torrential rain, a dramatic and testing finale to one of the best five days of my life. Oh, and the boot is bearing up. Rufus might not get a Christmas card from me but at least he can sleep knowing that I’m not filling the long nights with Wile E Coyote style plans for his ‘future’.


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