First up, Hertfordshire. Five of us met at Tring station, although
none of us actually travelled by train. I arrived first, followed by Anna with
two more intrepid explorers, Rachel and David, and finally Mark. The weather
report had predicted fine weather so the initial meet-in-a-pub plan was swiftly
altered to the picnic-on-the-hill plan. We set off each with a rucksack and a
carrier bag of food, enough to feed us twice over, following the Ridgeway to
the Ivanhoe Beacon. A picnic spot was found, beers were cracked and pimms
decanted into a variety of mugs. We ooh'ed and aah'ed at the dense orange
sunset.
Lit by Anna's Torch Of A Thousand Suns (TM)
we headed back down the trail, dodging cows with teddy bear-like fur, to a patch
of trees under which we found a clearing in which to bed down for the night.
Nettles trampled and sleeping bags unfurled we settled down for the night. How
much sleep we actually got is open to debate. I was intensely aware of the
noise my sleeping bag made as I tossed and turned. The wildlife was vocal.
On solstice night I'd been put off
sleeping out by the fear I'd be too cold. No such fear now. The night was
remarkably warm and my sleeping bag so cosy I was comfortable in t-shirt and
pants. And socks. I never said it was sexy. Fleece and baselayer were relegated
to the rucksack in easy reach.
Ridgeway take 2 |
The next week it was back to the Ridgeway, this time Princes
Risborough in Buckinghamshire, somewhere I’d never heard of before. An initial
group of about a dozen became just seven; Anna, repeat offender Mark,
Charlotte, Katie, James and Paddy.
Picnic spot and adventure hat |
Once again we met at the station but this time train
ridiculousness meant I was the only one who drove. Showers threatened and I
will confess to never having checked a weather report so often during a single
day. We got some drizzle early on but it soon cleared to reveal some gorgeous
views as we climbed approximately a thousand* steps up the Ridgeway. A clearing
complete with log bench overlooking the town proved the perfect picnic spot and
the sight of a charred patch of grass was all Paddy needed to dive off to find
firewood. Twenty minutes later and with the aid of a jet boil we had a proper
campfire fire going.
It was a much cooler evening that the week before but the fire
warmed us all evening while we chatted and sang songs. We tried toasting Percy
pigs and flapjacks, drank beers and coffee, and followed the crushing defeat of
Brazil in the World Cup.
A better hashtag you'll never see #microadventure |
At about 11pm and after far too many chocolate mini rolls, Anna
led us to the camping spot she’d recced earlier, in the woods under the canopy
of the trees. Despite the hour it was still possible to see the lightness of
the sky through the leaves. The coffee coursing through my veins and the
pitter-patter of rain drops being shaken from the leaves by the breeze gave the
illusion that I didn’t sleep much but at 5:30 I was woken by Anna’s alarm. It
took a bit longer for me to emerge from the cocoon of my sleeping bag to a
misty morning. A stumble down the Ridgeway and along the back of the semi’s led
us back into civilisation. The gentle roar of the A roads grew louder and all
too soon I was once again in the office, showered, changed and with a Waitrose
for coffee in front of me, too excited to concentrate on anything I was meant
to be doing.
Packing up our camping spot the morning after the night before. |
Beats staying in with a pizza and a DVD any night of the week.
*I may be exaggerating somewhat
I also like adventurous trip because it's quite lovely and interesting for every traveller.
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