Ridgeway

I've walked all but the western end of The Ridgeway so I decided to complete it this weekend. I set out from The White Horse to walk to Avebury, 35 km or about seven hours. Other bloggers advised that opportunities for refreshment are limited on this section so I carried a small tin of tonic, a few litres of other liquids and the contents of a large fruit bowl. It was 3 degrees C at the start, rain in the forecast and I was multilayer insulated.

Amidst the flints of Wilts and the welts of the shire, showers darkened the horizon and pipits and larks sang their territorial displays before the hail arrived. A buzzard tree hopped and later a hobby flashed past. Pheasants everywhere fattening themselves for local tables. Manicured horse gallops and rumours of heated horse swimming pools suggest the wealth of the area. Lonely trees abound, my photographers minimalist eye drawn to them and the myriad patterns on the chalky fields churned by rabbits and moles.

I met a few people, joked with some on horseback about the 'soft going', ignored a few packs of antisocial mountain bikers. One woman had an Akita with saddlebags carrying its own bowl, water and snacks; she said the dog drew the line at towing her up the hills.

I had ice cream and tea from a van on Barbary Castle car park. I took a detour to see the stone aged Liddington Castle ramparts. Passed by many Bassetts and I wandered around the neolithic henges in Avebury. A memorable history lesson in a live pageant.

Q collected me, brought me home to a shower and a big dinner of Hungarian Chicken, cherry cake closed by cheese and crackers.

A great end to a mucky 25 mile walk. Patchy phone coverage prevented blogging as I walked, locally blamed on the ley lines around Avebury.