Tuesday 28th January 1936

After breakfast, Gwyn and I cycled away into Buckinghamshire. (My ruc-sack containing a thermos and sandwiches. I felt like a boy playing truant from school.)
We got to Beaconsfield, left the cycles at the station and walked the way I came with Dick and John a few weeks ago. (Fresh views came before us and each time coincided with a picture in my mind, remembered from before.)

At half past one there was to be a great silence over the whole country, in honour of King George. We came to a fence at the edge of a wood and waited there, heard guns and sirens and silence.

Passed through a dark, damp fir-wood some time later. Near the edge, where it was wind sheltered and more dry we sat down on a broken sapling and had lunch. (Very delightful, somehow. Like a Farnol novel. In a field above the wood we sometimes could see a man ploughing.)

Late in the afternoon we reached Penn and Gwyn was suddenly very tired. Eventually, at twilight, we found a cottage where we had tea. A strange old place with a huge chimney; an ancient lady, vivacious, and a middle aged woman, her daughter.

Went by bus to Beaconsfield. Felt quite refreshed as we cycled through the darkness; gentle downhill slopes. At Slough, the rain began. We waited in a pub for some time. It rained steadily. Gwyn refused to end the journey by bus so we went out into it. (Obstinate little devil but an awfully good sport.) We were soon very wet. Oozing water when we reached Staines. Gwyn had a hot bath and went to bed; I had supper and sat by the fireside awhile.