We’d walked the first four miles out of Oakham before, last
month at the end of the Viking Way. That day we were hot and tired and wanted
to catch the bus. Today it was the beginning of the Hereward Way rather than
the end of the Viking Way, the morning was cool and we were fresh from
breakfast. In theory we could have caught the bus – after all we’d already
walked this bit – but it would have seem a bit defeatist to cheat on the very
fresh eyes. Last time I didn’t even notice the mansion of Burley on the Hill
looming over the landscape.
as walkers . It was a lovely morning for it.
about government approved recreation areas, how we are meant to go to them to
have government sanctioned fun and they’re designed to keep us happy like
sheep. I told him to stop being an old grump and look at the mother and toddler
cycling group going by! The toddlers were all in baskets on the back, the
mothers were young and athletic.
the dam. (Can you see that cyclist?)
across the fields, even though there were no footpath signs and Johnny didn’t
think I knew what I was doing.
along the way today.
Maybe. They are a certain view of England, the view people like to put on
chocolate boxes. It’s not really the England I know. But hey, I can still stand
in the road taking photos like a tourist.
momentarily, but apart from a few stares from very cute calves, they were much
more interested in the grass than us.
ploughed field and our path was meant to go across the middle of it. There was
no path. There was no way we were going to stumble for miles over loose ploughed
earth, so grumbling about farmers who ploughed up footpaths, we marched along
passed this windmill, and reached Ketton.
built of something, but Ketton seemed very stony, with narrow streets between
large buildings and fences made of grave stones.
pub was closed and although the church was open, it had no loo.
back in Lincolnshire.
through the middle of wheat and kale with no messing. We even met other walkers
on this path. Well, just one actually. And he was wearing flares and plimsolls.
works, acting as though they’re a feature of landscape. Johnny said they looked
like some sort of sci fi citadel.
bridge, through a tunnel under the A1 and onto the flood plain of the River Welland,
above which Stamford stands, shining like the golden city.