Nuthurst city limits

A good deal less wan and tired, thankfully. Anton had plotted a short walk starting at Nuthurst, a village that Anton and I had been through before. Lorraine drove us to Anton's where the purple magnolia outside his house was looking wondrous. Then onto Rosie's house and we drove off over the downs into the Weald, me humming Nuthurst City Limits and saying it was a good job we were in a car as "motorcycle not allowed in it". Nobody laughed. We parked up and then went for a mooch in the woods. Lorraine sporting her new boots. I was feeling brighter than the last few days, and was fine. In fact it was lovely to get outside and be among trees. Especially walking past a wood of silver birch. Not too muddy.

To a pub there called The Black Horse hoping for food. Slightly galling to be shown a table, told we'd have to wait an hour for food which, after buying a drink was revised to waiting an hour before you can order your food. We opted not go. Still, nice to be inside smelling the wood smoke of a real fire as it started hailing with gusto. Lorraine drove us back to Brighton, and we reconvened in the Shakespeare's Head for a Sunday roast. Another nice meal, and a really pleasant relaxed vibe and a few leisurely afternoon drinks were taken. While at the bar, noticed Jane on the cover of the Mail on Sunday, being Camilla again in another Alison Jackson shoot. See for yourself here...

Home to sleep the sleep of the just on the gold sofa. A highly enjoyable day.

Below woods including silver birch; Lorriane, Rosie and Anton; Rosie snapped by the bamboo outside the Architectural Plants garden centre in Nuthurst.