Sunday 18th June 1933

Rain. Set out 10.30, alone (because I could not afford the bus fare). Trudged through the rain towards Branston. Downpour. Sheltered by a deserted house, which luckily had a veranda. Fine intervals, showers. Black clouds. Ate some sandwiches as I walked. Near Blakney, 2 o’clock. I rested under some trees and had my dinner. The rain stopped, the sun shone, I quickly dried.

Would the Club come? They did – 5 of them – by the 3.40 bus. We strolled. A farm for tea. A1. Across Digby Aerodrome, through the “village”. Were we trespassing?

Mr. Melton – the atheist. Long discussion. Light rain. Main road. Fast walking. At dusk I stopped a car and two of the girls got a lift. Chauffer and Indian (princess?) “Eas eet that you want to go to Lincoln?” she asked. Three of us caught a bus from the fourth milestone. Home 10p.m. Hot bath, supper in bed.