We are smarting from readers criticisms that our days revolve around beer, chips and daytime TV. What do arty farty designers know anyway?
Easier to be lyrical about the lake district, bit more difficult about flat fields, farm tracks, friesan cows and sheep. But we will try to keep our followers entertained. I feel quite sorry for anyone who is following this rubbish anyway, you might think about getting out a little more. Why not get yourself a couple of jigsaws from a charity shop. It would be more fun than following this lot.
Been looking at the statistics. More than 1500 hits, there must be some sad people out there. Hits from all over the world, West and Eastern Europe, Australia, India, South Africa, UAE, USA, Mexico. If you are one of these, please email us we would like to hear from you
Well here is our day, up early as we had 18 miles in front of us. Both had poached eggs on toast, cannot face another full English (that’s the last food mention).
As we left our evening resting place at daybreak, Dunc was struck my a poetic moment and rested on style to pen these few words of verse.
Just Another Special Day.
Slowly the sun rises
As night melts into day
Full of promise and excitement
Wonderment and surprise
I watch the stars fade
As the sky comes alive
Velvet black shades to bright cyan blue
A rosy disc edges brightly
It was gonna be a long day, so we clogged on as fast as we could. Usual arrangement Dunc in front leading the way and map reading, GB 20 yards behind taking photos now and again. GB manages to carry crisps in his pack whilst Dunc has to carry fruit, cakes, coffee flask and anything else heavy.
What do you talk about on the 12th day that you have not talked about already? The beauty of short term memory loss is that we both cannot remember what we talked about a few days ago, so we recycle.
Elevenses was at Danby Whiske, perched ourselves on the seat outside the pub. The landlord cam out to chat, the pub had had a bad press both from Wainwright and Julia Bradbury. He has recently taken over and refurbished, now looking good. Starting chatting to his wife and mother in law, who both came from York. His mother in law knew Dunc’s dad, having lived in the same area during the war.
The rest of the walk was head down and keep going, field after field, lane after lane. Finally came to the A19 dual carriageway. The only way across is to run like hell. Pretty scary at 4pm in the rain.
Another 18 miles ticked off not the most picturesque part of the journey. Photos are of cows and fields.
If you are still with us, thanks.
Dunc and Geordie Boy
PS Going to pub at 7pm for beer and chips