Day 18: Hardwick to Fulbourn

We stay with old friends bang smack in the middle of Cambridge, delightful conversation and great company. Today we walked through Cambridge, the second time we have done this, the last time three years ago while we were walking from York to Canterbury. In the morning we tottered over freshly ploughed fields as the farmer...
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Day 17: St Neots to Hardwick

We walk our miles in record time over flat country with huge grey skies. Moses, (the dog) goes mad with ecstasy as he rolls in the wheat stubble that scratches his tummy. We sit in the pub Marcus has chosen with trepidation as all his choices thus far have been poor. But we are greeted...
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Day 16: Rest Day

Great news all round. We are staying just outside Cambridge. A blessed day away from my Plod as guests of one of my favourite people, our younger son, Oliver and his wife Lois and their not so baby girls, Amelie and Annabel. I visited Kings  College Chapel, one of the wondrous things  you should mark...
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Day 15: Goldington to St Neots

Now we approach the outskirts of Cambridge, facing flat, straight walks where I imagine Roman soldiers tramped their extra mile all those centuries ago. Moses (our dog) stirred up a fox and then an otter by the River Ouse and we are fortunate that Moses didn’t see it. We lunched in a garden centre –...
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Day 14: Hardmead to Goldington

A long haul through flat Bedfordshire fields coated in stubble and clay. In the most part it was particularly hard going as many farmers score out the paths, perhaps to spite walkers. We lunched with Anne Atkins, one of the most ballsy people I know. She meets adversity with a head butt and a two...
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Day 13: Cosgrove to Hardmead

Last night I asked our host how he had voted in the referendum. He was Brexit. When I asked him how his wife had voted he said he had no idea! A minute later she told me she had voted Brexit too and neither had thought to discuss it! Strange things, marriages. Today we are...
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Day 12: Blakeseley to Cosgrove

Another thirteen long miles. We plod through boggy, plowed-up, often clay-based fields, where the adjacent river banks are strewn with rusted barbed wire that would do the Somme battle fields proud. Often we face impassable “pedestrian” access points smothered in brambles. I imagine an overarching statement from the council hanging there: “Why not stay away...
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Day 11: Claydon to Blakesley

Take a Risk! One of my friends told me that she was certain all the pupils in her class of 18-year-old boys were involved in a sexual relationship – not some of them, but all of them. In my experience nothing as bleak as that statistic can occur without paying some sort of future cost...
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Day 10: Pillerton Hersey to Claydon

A couple of calls that are hard to cope with without giving terminal offence… A dear friend with a great heart want to join our teams in Zimbabwe and “help the poor.” The trouble is that it is not as simple as it sounds. Unschooled friends always need a great deal of looking after and...
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Break Day 4

Another day off to allow my injured little toe to recover its poise. The colour has subsided from vermillion to a delicate pink and the pain has lowered to my gloomy awareness that there is still some way to go. I want the toe to recover but not so much as I forfeit whatever sympathy...
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Break Day 3

Now is the time for me to read “Power and Pragmatism” by past Foreign Secretary Malcolm Rifkind who is speaking for ZANE in early November. An excellent and insightful book about an extraordinary career by a man crackling with ability and high achievement. Defence Secretary and foreign Secretary and today and elder statesman whose views...
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Break Day 2

I managed to slip down a flight of stairs in my stockinged feet in one of our host’s houses and jammed the little toe of my left foot in the banisters. This brilliant move may have broken my fall but it twisted the toe just this side of snapping. Not a good move in the...
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