My stomach wasn't right
last night. I hoped a good night's sleep might help. It didn't.
Between "Furry Face TM" woofing
and "er indoors TM" snoring I
farted through every hour of the night.
I say "farted";
it was more akin to a transimittion in morse code.
Over brekkie I had a
look-see on line. Last night in the restaurant I saw Mr Stephen
Crowhurst. For those of my loyal readers who have never encountered
the fellow he is a local tradesman who we once employed to do our
loft conversion. To cut a very long story short he did about half of
a rather shoddy job then just walked away, costing us thosands of
pounds to put right. (Needless to say "the proper channels"
were of no help to us). There is no denying I contemplated going
up to him and giving him a slap, but realistically what would that
acheive? It is a well-established point of law that people are
legally permitted to defraud others.
This morning I looked
him up on the Internet. Despite (supposedly) having gone
bankrupt the chap is still operating a loft
conversion business and a plastering
business too.
Isn't private enterprise
a wonderful concept. Caveat emptor !
With brekkie scoffed we
rallied the troops and set off for the Sunday geo-wander; today to
Brenchley. It is in the vague direction of Tonbridge - I didn't know
where it was either. Eleven of us (and four dogs) had a rather
good walk of some seven and a half miles. The day started rather
cold, but the sun came out and it brightened up. As we walked dogs
chased squirrels, woodpeckers flew about, sheep were inquisitive and
we even saw birds of prey being flown. There was beautiful scenery, a
disused glof course, and there was even an impromptu chorus of "Into
the Valley" (originally performed by the Skids) as we
walked into the valley.
There's no denying the
mud was quite slippery in places but it was a good walk; it sums up
why I like this silly hunting tupperware game. Again it took me
somewhere beautiful where I wouldn't otherwise have gone.
In fact the day was only
marred by my ongoing guts-ache. I *really* shouldn't have
pigged out at last night's all-you-can-eat buffet.
Geocaching-wise this walk
rather demonstrated a point I've been trying (and failing) to
make for some time. As we walked around some twenty-odd cache hides
we found ourselves solving a field puzzle. We found several today,
but one of them involved our having to back-track for a couple of
hundred yards. Not a major problem; it was actually a good puzzle,
and a good hide, but in the weeks and months to come whenever anyone
asks about the Brenchley walk we will remember it as "that
one where we had to back-track".
Now the cache which
involved the back-tracking *wasn't* put out by the chap who
put out all the other caches. But it is the one over which he has no
control which is the one which will be remembered about his walk.
I've been asked to run my
new series in the general direction of pre-existing caches. I don't
want to do so for this very reason. If people are going to remember a
walk I've set out I would like it to be because of what *I've*
done or not done.
After the walk we felt we
deserved a glass of weak shandy. But the two pubs in Brenchley had
both closed down. So we drove down the road for two minutes to the
Halfway House. What a find! - it is the sort of place that you
would probably drive straight past without giving it a second
thought. But they had eleven ales on; all poured straight from the
barrel. Family-friendly and dog-friendly, and although we didn't eat
there the food looked rather tasty.
We were good; we only
stayed for two pints. I could have stayed longer.
On the way home we
stopped off at "My Boy TM" to drop
off a car seat. As always I took a few photos today. After a rather
good bit of tea I posted
them on-line. "er indoors TM"
set off bowling and I had a look-see on the Internet...
My stomach is still every
bit as iffy as when I woke up. An early night might be a good idea...
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