I live on the edge of the Fens, on a bit of a hill, it has to be said. Ten metres above sea level – so you just be careful out there, pumping all your global-warming-fumey-things into the atmosphere as I don’t fancy any particular mad rise in sea level at the moment.
As well as having to cope with the imminent threat of drowning I also have the misery of not having any local hills to clamber up to perhaps gain a modicum of fitness for my annual walking binge in May. It’s hard living at sea level in East Angular. But if I don’t get out there and get some exercise the first two weeks of my two week walking holiday will be hell, watching my companion disappear into the distance as I flounder hopelessly behind.
I need to be Fit For Purpose.
So, Lord Elpus and Miss Whiplash dragged me round a muddy little circular walk all of six and half very long miles. Total height gain was about 10metres. Sandwiches were taken. Two pubs were inspected. Memories came flooding back for Miss Whiplash from her youth: The toilets in the first pub were just the same, but now they were in focus. There was no-one to trip over sitting on the floor shooting up either. However, the beer in the second pub was far better than the first.
We got home as the sun was sinking southwest into the old ridge & furrow of the common. A lovely stroll with two wonderful friends. As for the fitness thing… Well – you have to start somewhere…