I’d set the alarm early today as
I knew we had an early start. But despite last night’s night shift I was still
awake far too early. I watched an episode of “Trailer Park Boys” then
went and kicked "er indoors TM" out of her pit.
As she got up Pogo looked at me in utter amazement. What were the humans doing
getting up in the middle of the night?
We all came downstairs and Pogo watched us get ready from
the comfort of Fudge’s basket. If ever a dog had an expression of “WTF is going on?” it was Pogo this morning.
We left home just before half
past five. As we drove up the contraflow on the motorway the travel news told
us that the “Operation Brock” contraflow would be removed later today. “Operation
Brock” has been a major inconvenience for the last few weeks; I shall be
glad to see it go.
But despite having half the
motorway not in use (for no discernible reason) we made good time and were
at the Duxford McDonalds half an hour earlier than planned. As was everyone else.
I found Karl Tracey and Charlotte at the self-service gizmo, and as I fed the
dogs their breakfasts of sausage and egg McMuffins (spoiled pups!) so
Wayne and Lyn arrived.
We drove to the sleepy village
of Meldreth (it’s somewhere in Cambridgeshire) and we went for a little
walk; our walk being directed by various film pots stashed under rocks. Within
yards of starting the walk Pogo “unloaded”. I cleared his mess and
walked him back a hundred yards to the dog dung bin, and he was heartbroken. This
was something of a theme for the day; if he was away from "er indoors TM" for even a few
moments he was distraught.
But we had a rather good walk.
The weather was odd; it was too hot to be wearing my fleece so I took it off.
It was soon too cold not to have my fleece on. On-off, on-off all day. Mind you
it was warm enough to sit in the beer garden of a pub we found. A pint of “Oddy”
from a brewery in Bishop’s Stortford slipped down very nicely.
I quite liked walking in
Cambridgeshire. Compared to Kent it was very flat. As we walked we saw buzzards
and yellowhammers. We found a stone commemorating the millennium which had been
placed on the Greenwich meridian. And I found my eleven thousandth geocache
too.
After twelve and a half miles (and
eighty-three geocaches) we were back at the cars. An hour later we were at
the wonderfully-named village of Molesworth (has no one but me ever heard of
the star pupil of St Custard’s school?). We’d booked rooms at the Cross Keys pub. Everyone
else but us had stayed there before and thoroughly recommended the place. I must
admit that I went hoping for the best but expecting the worst, and I was pleasantly
surprised. They were very happy for us to have the dogs with us. The little
chalet-thingy we had was very comfortable.
Mind you I spent five minute
fighting with the shower; why do no two hotels, pubs or guest houses ever have
the same shower controller-thingy?
As "er indoors TM" showered so I
went into the bar. After a couple of pints of “Landlord” we were all assembled, and we sat down for dinner. I had
the mixed grill… It was really good. Cooked to perfection, and it was as well
that we were allowed to have the dogs with us. Even with their help I barely
cleared the plate. (But I still managed
pudding!)
It was a shame that the pub’s
wi-fi was a tad flaky, but despite knocking a pint of ale flying I eventually got
some
photos of the day on to the Internet.
Today has been a very long day…
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