Sitting on my settee (the settee is my friend) with a glass of rough old cider, watching a nail biting match of American and British women and their curling tongs, it reminds me that tomorrow Lord Elpus and I will be flogged around the icy Fenland Landscape by Miss Whiplash.
It leaked out that on our last walk (unattended by Miss Whiplash) from Reach, we never made it out of the pub - the Dyke's End - as it sold rather nice beer and it was all horrid and drizzly outside. We're 'Ard Bastards, Lord E & me...
So tomorrow we are being chaperoned to ensure completion. The route has been set; a big one, with no slacking allowed. I have just taken a peek at it on my mapping software:
Maximum height: 9.0m
Minimum height: -3.5m
So at least the oxygen will be in plentiful supply. No fear of nosebleeds.