Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Sunday 15th October 1933

Another solitary ramble. This time I brought a one inch map and planned my route. Cold sunlight. The day was warm really, while one was moving. Stroud. Still suburban atmosphere. A footpath off the road into paradise. Across a railway into thick woods. Holly and Hazel nut. Uphill path. Track wound between high banks. Could only see a few yards either way. The top. Glimpses through the trees of a long vista. Felt happy. It was Callow Hill (213feet up).

Later I came to a main road, dipping up and down, in and out. Houses - modern residences - here and there, but one had the impression that the forest still held it’s own in a losing battle. Before I tired of this I came to a quieter road. The trees grew stunted and were left behind. Bracken and heather. Rolling lands. Wild country with a long range of vision! Chobham Common. Passed a gypsy encampment by a crossroads and an old woman called “You’ll be lucky my gentleman; give the old girl something”. Reached a clump of tall pines above the road and set my map. Straight across the moor towards Chobham. Through heather, up and down. Chobham village. Turned E. N.E. then N. N.W. Pretty cottages here. N.W. along a rough road skirting the Common. I saw the clump of pines and was tempted to stride straight towards them. My road became a track through broken ground, woods, fields, to a main road again. Back over Callow Hill and by path to the outskirts of Egham.

Hot dinner at home. Had nothing to eat since 11 o’clock (late breakfast). Mileage 18. This was a much happier walk. Found my country.


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