This morning I walked to Lyndhurst via Minstead and Emery Down. Thatchers in Minstead, ignoring the light rain, perched on a roof renewing a pretty thatch. The gentle clopping of hooves from behind alerted me to the presence of a cart drawn by two horses who became quite skittery when face to face with a massive motor coach. This was a single track section of the road leading up from the ford.
There was quite a queue in this less travelled road by the time the coach had edged past the vehicle of yesteryear which was tucked in by a fortunately placed farm entrance.
Approaching Emery Down there is a long uphill stretch that, for a cyclist emerging from the village, is an exciting downhill plunge. Rapidly descending towards me, grey locks flying splayed out on each side, grasping soaring handlebars which would have graced an ‘Easy Rider’ type machine, was really quite an elderly woman. ‘Some handlebars!’, I cried as she whizzed past. ‘Yayyyee!’ she replied, her voice tailing off in the distance.
I met Jackie in the car park at Lyndhurst. We went to register at the Lyndhurst G.P. Surgery which, amazingly, has the same address, 2, Church Lane, as the G.P.’s that had been Jackie’s in Merton for forty four years. On our return, gamely cycling up the slope was my ageing easy rider.
Aldi’s haddock and chips provided our evening repast with which I drank Adnam’s ale and Jackie didn’t.
After the meal we took part in The Amberwood pub quiz. Our team improved somewhat from last week, finishing in fifth place, just two away from the prizes.
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