Right outside the station, we were greeted by the sights, sounds and smells of the countryside. A herd of lively brown cows pushed forward to greet us within their pen, lining up as if they were posing for a group photo. Of course, there's always one bugger with his head down. Actually, another tried to climb atop his fellow cow, but I shall protect their modesty here.
Our walk took us over some rolling fields and deep into farmland. It was picturesque. Sheep and lambs frolicked with springtime abandon. We spotted a sheep and a newly born lamb, still attached by its umbilical cord. It was already standing on its wobbly little legs.
Look at those faces. No more shepherd's pie.
The trail continued past oast houses. See those strange conical roofts? We wondered what they were. Atop the white cones, usually perched a large wind-vane. Dr Phil offered a guess that it had something to do with pigeon rearing. Was this back in the day when they still used pigeons as carriers? Being a Londoner, I've grown accustomed to the perspective that we have far too many pigeons, so the idea of breeding them deliberately was hard to fathom.
But on return, I found out that "an oast house is a freestanding kiln for drying hops, "ale" is brewed without hops, "beer" is brewed with hops added." Read more about it here.
We ventured further, past woodlands and rivers, over a rail track and the back of some posh houses.
We had to inch along the side of a country road, where cars would zoom past, some of which were gorgeous antique leisure cars like the ones you'd see in Brideshead Revisited. Oh the lords racing to their country manor!
Mr Ali turned around, with his arms spread wide and said, "I don't like this road, it's quite dangerous and we could go splat!" I winced as a car zoomed by and he withdrew his arms just in time. That would have been too literal. The safest way to proceed was to press yourself against a hedge, and when a car raced by, to almost throw yourself into a ditch.
After a yummy lunch at the Rose & Crown pub in Burwash, we were back on safer ground as we cut through more farm land. The lambs came running up and snuffling our hands with their noses. For some reason, they seemed to like Dr J.
The trail led us past horse and pony grounds, with strange structures that we identified as training gyms.
We had no sugar cubes but this chap seemed to like Lionel.
Dr Phil delighting a pony with fresh grass.
We had gorgeous weather. Spring was definitely in season, orchards were fast flowering and the bees were out at work.
Mr Ali sitting on the telephone exchange in front of a staghorn tree, or so we were told, by the owner of the house.
Oh I made a secret discovery - that's where he lives!
It got pretty icky at times today, but it was a mark of how lovely a time we were having that no one minded. Not even after being stuck ankle deep in sludge. At one point, the path was so squishy I climbed over a barbed wire fence to avoid it.
There's also a strange delight to be walking with two scientists and two mathematicians. When we walked through a field which looked like it had been scattered with stone or rock, Lionel picked up a piece and bit it. I was aghast as on closer look, it looked like a piece of bone. "Interesting," he said, thoughtfully. "It appears to be bone."
When we walked by a river and a pond, I said "Hmm, the colour's a bit odd," to which, Ali replied, "There's too much nitrogen in the water."
As a urbanite, I also found it useful to point at flora and fauna and expect Dr Phil to identify them.
"What's that?" I asked.
"A pheasant, " he replied.
"And what's that?" I pointed to another.
"Another pheasant." Ah, I'm learning.
No comments:
Post a Comment