After two night shifts I slept like a
log. I had a vague recollection of being trampled by my dog in the small hours
but when I got up we was fast asleep on the sofa. Over brekkie I watched an
episode of one of my favourite shows - “Upstairs
Downstairs” - on the ITV encore channel. In today’s episode her ladyship
was having it away with a young airman. The young airman went on to get shot
down – a judgment perhaps? I then had a little look on Wikipedia. It turns out
that many of the actors who were in “Upstairs
Downstairs” acted in very little else. Mind you this morning’s episode was
rather different to many I watch. Usually I watch it in the afternoons, and at
that time of day the adverts are about suffering animals and children. It made
a pleasant change not having depressing adverts.
With "er indoors TM"
off to the convocation of candlemongers in Windsor I had been left to my own
devices today. So I popped the lead on "Furry Face TM"
and we drove up to Leybourne where we’d agreed to meet Tracey and Karl. Having
arrived a few minutes early I checked the geo-map to find I’d parked not sixty
yards from a geocache, so me and my dog made a crafty find whilst we were
waiting.
Tracey and Karl soon arrived and we set off for
Lingfield in Surrey where we’d planned to wander round the Lingfield Loop
series of geocaches. We parked up to find the car park ticket machine was
broken (what a shame!) and we set off
on our stroll. It was a rather cold morning; several of the puddles we found
were covered in ice, and it was rather foggy too.
We walked past the village jail where the last
resident was a poacher (over a hundred
years ago). We saw pheasants and hawks. We saw some birds which we couldn’t
decide if they were yellowhammers or goldfinches. We took the wrong bridge. We
found a very odd arrangement of military pill boxes – whilst now derelict they
had obviously been arranged to have overlapping fields of fire. What on Earth
had they been set up to defend?
Geocache-wise it was a good walk. The caches
were not too far apart and were (mostly)
straightforward finds. We logged a “did
not find” on one; we thought it had gone missing. Billed as a walk of six
miles “Hannah” measured it as seven
and a half.
And I took a few photos as we walked.
We finished walking just as it was getting
cold. Rather than doing the nearby Wherigo we went to the Greyhound for a
crafty half. The Greyhound is an odd pub. It looked rather posh from the
outside. On the inside it was full of assorted thugs shouting at two TV
screens. Interestingly the two TV screens were tuned to different channels and
were showing different sporting events. But the thugs didn’t seem bothered, and
they were civil enough as well.
My little dog slept most of the way home (when he wasn’t farting). Once home I
drove round the block twice trying to find somewhere to park. There were no
spaces to be had; eventually I found a space in Francis Road (three streets away). I had hoped to park closer to home so I could
load up my fishing gear, but that wasn’t going to happen this evening.
Ironically "er indoors TM"
came home twenty minutes after me and said there were loads of parking spaces
outside.
After a rather good bit of dinner "er
indoors TM" went off to the Saturday film night and as my
dog snored I settled in front of the telly.
I might have an early night…
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