Wednesday morning: Up with the sparrows farting and coughing. (That's the sparrows you do understand) Just a three hour dash to the West Country to link up with Daryl May. I arrived there in time for a big breakfast and coffee bargain from a burger van. They are just irresistible when you are hungry.
Then a lonely figure hoves into view - unmistakeably Daryl in his orange trousers and sporting his father's walking stick, now held together by Duct-tape.
We head off together down the minor roads across the start of the Somerset Levels, heading for Yatton and a couple of very refreshing pints of Bath Ales Gem (a beautiful drop if there ever was one)
Then its Congresbury and the quiet lanes and bridle paths to the south of the 'A' Road. We find a quiet spot (apart from the usual barking dogs - Daryl has a theory about reflex barking, that I hope he will let you all share on his blog) where we lean against a convenient gate for a spot of lunch - Lynnie's home-made Chicken Liver Pate with toast, butter and a few glasses of a decent red.
Time passes easily when you are in Daryl's company and we passed a nice luncheon putting right the world even with all it's current difficulties.
We pressed on and passed Mays Green (close to Daryl's heart) and then began the long road into Weston. By now Daryl had been walking for ages and understandably, was beginning to find it all a bit of hard work. So fate was kind to us and a public house appeared on our right for a little bit of light refreshment.
At this point, 'Daughter Number One' arrived (there is no 'Daughter Number Two, as far as I am aware...) and walked with us the remaining 500 yards to her flat, where Daryl was given a welcome cuppa and a welcome bath and a bed for the night.
I made it home at about 11:30pm to crash, knackered! I had forgotten how tiring all this walking lark is!
It was great to finally meet this double 'End to Ender'. A true Gentleman of the Road!