A ramble from Willowbrook Farm into the world beyond. April 2023.

Words and pictures and nonsense by Tony Attwood, on the grounds that no one else has supplied a report and I didn’t have anything else to do on Thursday night, and there is no obligation to read this if you don’t want to and anyway none of the guys with proper cameras turned up (again!) and lots of people (well, two actually) asked me if I was going to write a report again, and one said she quite liked the last piece (and she didn’t actually say she was joking).

There was I am sorry to say a certain amount of confusion at the very start of our walk this week as some members felt it was time for an annual Ramblers Grand Prix, in which cars are lined up opposite a field, and the winner is the driver who gets her/his car to the furthest point before it gets stuck in the mud.

But before we could start what some of us were looking forward to as a fine spot of motoring fun we were told that no, it was a traditional walking day and that a Le Mans style start across the mud was not needed.  

And thus it was time indeed to venture forth and forsooth just at that moment out came the sun, to

celebrate.  Meanwhile I took off the snazzy car racing gloves, donned the boots and joined the rest of the 28 strong ensemble for a walk in the woods.

And indeed after the terrifyingly torrential torrent [there’s a word meaning lots of words starting with the same sound, but I’ve forgotten what it is, but it’s rather clever don’t you think?] we ventured forth and found that yes indeed there was light in the sky and no pitter-patter of the annoying wet stuff. ‘twould be a dry one!

Now it has long been my opinion that the Eastern Midlands of which I now find myself a part, was

initially a bit of the nation’s defence mechanism against invading aliens. And we did indeed pass just such an installation as we walked.  I guess I notice these things what with being a Londoner and not used to country ways, for no one else on the walk made any comment about the obviously military and cross-galactic intent of the building.  But I suppose being brought up in Tottenahm I am more familiar with the work of aliens than others.

Anyway I digress, for eventually we took up the pace, broke out from the darkened depths of deep desultory dominion, and found ourselves once more in joyous sunlight at which point we paused and chitted and chatted in the way that has become something of the norm for our happy band.

Some took light refreshment, some just stood, as is the way of the world, until eventually our leader, firm but cheerful in his direction of the afternoon’s events, announced that it was time to move on for there were more adventures afoot.

It was, I must add, about this time that various members of the ensemble began to comment that I was the only one of the Famous Five Fotographers to be on the walk (and yes I know Fotographers isn’t

the right spelling, but it is sometimes more fun to make alliteration and spelling match.  It’s called alliterlinement and isn’t at all an attempt to make up new words.  I used to do it all the time when I was at school and several teachers were carried out muttering darkly about not being paid enough to have to deal with the likes of me, and I always took that as something of a success in my constant battle against the assembled armies of repression and darkness.   But I digress.

For we walked on past the ancient Valley of a Lone Tree And A Bit of Grass (known locally as VOAL TAA BOG) and I have to say the mood in the ensemble was high to the point of being even jolly and conversations were there a-plenty.

Indeed I think I never stopped talking – something that was commented upon perhaps a little more than was strictly necessary for making the point, I feel.

There was also some suggestion that surely I wouldn’t be able to write up a proper review of the walk if I didn’t make notes along the way but I explained that if I did make notes I wouldn’t be able to read them and so I was actually better off without them.  Much the same can be said about the music I compose.   (Better off without notes….)   But really I must push on and jape less.

Thus it was that we continued to battle through the wetlands into which we had now ventured until finally we did indeed return to the cars.

It was widely hailed by all who were on the walk to be a really good afternoon in the sun, a feeling that was amplified by the fact that no attacks from marauding creatures or subterranean gastropods were experienced at all, no one was lost, we were not straffed by military aircraft, and it didn’t rain.

It was, as we professional walkers say, a jolly good one.