The walk from Wittering in words and pictures – part the first.

The village of Wittering dates back at least to the year 972 when it was known as Wiðeringe, the home of the people of the Widerigga tribe who were listed in Tribal Hidage as being in the area from 600 to 900 AD.

I am told that the local grocery store at this time was considered to be excellent, and was often classified as “A1” by travellers, thus giving rise to the name of the nearby road.

In fact so widely spread were the citizens that the tribe settled most of Peterborough and quite a lot of Northamptonshire and Huntingdonshire.

However this might be a load of old tosh because the Domesday Book only had them down as having 44 households, but it is possible that the rest were eliminated by the Abbot of Peterborough of whom it has been said although perhaps not rightly.

All Saints Church where we gathered is said to be one thousand years old although the booklet I found on the subject was published 14 years ago, so I guess it is now 1014 years old.

The church has ties with the RAF, and there is a very appropriate war memorial alongside the war graves in the churchyard. The church is still used every Sunday morning.

The day of our walk there was a horrendous crash on the A1 and diversions were in place but everyone arrived on time and suitably dressed for wind and rain so we proudly marched through the village behind our banner proclaiming “Peterborough Ramblers, please step aside.”

Sadly my pictures of the banner don’t seem to have come out very well, so you’ll have to imagine it.

But then quite amazingly as you can see from the next picture, the rain stopped and the wind (which I was unable to capture on my camera) died down and the weather became rather jolly for walking in.  Not too hot, not too cold, not too icy, not too intemperate, not too…  [That’s enough “not too” for now thank you – Editor]

And thus we glance hither and yon and saw the horses gambling [horses don’t gamble – only humans and starlings – Ed] and looking rather picturesque.

And thus by now some of us (well ok, one of us) was in shorts, so jolly was the outlook and we happily ventured forth, with one or two of the more daring members of the ensemble venturing fifth until our leader issued a reprimand and the venturing was brought back under control.

This really was a walk of footpath and fields, and nonetheless enjoyable for that, although as you will see from the final picture (or “snap” as we professionals are wont to call them) reveals the colour of the landscape and indeed the skies above could change from moment to moment.

But it is one of those extraordinary walks in which one second one is in the village and the next moment one is walking the paths between the fields, the only thing to worry about being marauding farmers riding on the backs of piglets waving spaghetti hoops and ordering us to stay on the tracks (although that memory may have come from last night’s dream following a glass of refreshing whatnot once I got home.)

Further details of the adventure will appear shortly, pending yours truly’s release from custody where I have provisionally been charged with “writing in an exaggerated or untruthful manner”.  I am protesting my innocence, as you may imagine and indeed expect.  I mean I know the number of walkers decreased by the time of this final picture but it weren’t me guvnor, honest.

Commentary and pictures by Tony Attwood.  Part 2 shortly.