A breath of fresh air

Not particularly relishing the idea of a cross country walk first thing. But soon cheered up when Anton and me set off: only a few weeks ago I would not have been able to even consider going for a hike.

We decided to do the next section of our Ouse Way walk, and got the train to Haywards Heath, and then a taxi to the Sloop Inn where we'd got to way back in July. From there we plunged into woodland and through fields for the next 6 miles. Not a particularly long walk, but I didn't really feel like overdoing it on my first exercise for some time.

Just great to be outside again. The sky was threatening rain all day but didn't deliver. The Autumn still being largely held at bay by this so-called Indian summer. Loads of pheasants about, and most places very green still. We passed the Bluebell Railway station, where we popped in for a cup of tea. It was their "Wizard Weekend", so the "skeleton" staff were all dressed in witches hats, and there was pleasantly cleavagey sort of Witch who served us our teas. The steam train was waiting to leave as we sat outside and they were testing the spooky ghost-train noises. It looked like a lot of fun for nippers.

Then off into the country again. As we approached a village called Newick and were greeted with the sound of a mighty explosion. The village was preparing for its Bonfire Night tonight. For all kinds of complicated reasons they celebrate Guy Fawkes night on the Sunday before the the 5th of November. (For non UK readers: Guy Fawkes was foiled in his famous plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament and all those in it with gunpowder. He has thoughtfully been burnt in effigy, accompanied by fireworks and bonfires, for the last 400 years or so.)

A short stop in Newick, to eat on a bench on the village green. Anton cutting up his Polish hunters sausage with his french knife and eating his sandwich with home made mayonnaise, and finishing it off with a pastry. Me a bag of fruit and nuts, and a small but tasty ale pie bought from the local baker in Newick.

We carried on for a while walking through fields and down lanes till we walked out onto a road. Soon we found a wonderful little pub called the Laughing Fish in Isfield. We left our muddy boots out in the porch (which apparently was rebuilt during the war after a bunch of over-refreshed Canadian servicemen blew up the first one having been asked to leave) and it was full and very cheery place with a very friendly barmaid. We enjoyed a brace of IPA bitters there before phoning for a cab to Lewes, and the short train ride home.

While we were walking I was called by the Police who said that they had arrested the Eastern European guy who was knocking at my door on Wednesday. He was caught red handed burgling somewhere in Hove and is now in custody. I must admit that this gives me a good sense of closure on the whole thing.

A quiet night in, with handfuls of chestnuts collected today. Below... Back on the paths, Witches at the Bluebell Railway, and Guy Fawkes in Newick...