I don’t think I’ve laughed so
much in a day in years. In the woods I nearly wet myself laughing at this photo
of Poppy.
At the side of the road the dog and I were playing with her lead and Poppy tripped over her (which she insists was my fault) and fell onto the verge. We were both still
in hysterics when a cyclist came. She looked at us and started laughing too.
I laughed when I went for a
wee behind a tree and the dog came and weed next to me. Poppy laughed later
when I went for another wee and did a little fart.
The dog thought we were mad.
It got off to a good start,
walking through woods full of wild garlic – so much garlic, I’ve never seen so
much. It covered banks and slopes, the sides, bottom and tops of the valley as
the path wound along the stream.
The smell filled the air and
we imagined what it will look like in a few weeks when the flowers come out and
cover the ground with white stars. There were patches of wood anemone and wood
sage, but it was mostly garlic. The dog decided to combat the smell with
something smelly of her own finding which she duly rolled in. I thought of the
man we’d seen in the pub the night before with neat little vampire teeth and
thought we probably wouldn’t see him here.
We stopped at a pub for lunch
– staying outside as the dog was too smelly to take inside.
She still
managed to charm people though. She’s being a complete tart on this trip. At
the Lambton Arms last night she made best friends with a group of men playing
pool, and with all the staff this morning. She rolls over and puts on her
I-love-you-more-than-anyone-in-the-world face. Today she collected a nine year old boy who came along with us throwing sticks for her, leaving his grandad far behind. We thought we'd got him for good.
The second half of the walk
was harder. Long straight paths that went on and on, industrial sites and the
backs of things.
The underneath of things.
But there was blackthorn too.
We saw the muddiest man we’d
ever seen riding a motorbike along a dirt track – and Poppy’s spent whole
summers at festivals, she knows about muddy people. He looked like the mud was
ingrained in his skin and he was made of it. After he’d passed we cracked up
laughing – again!
Eventually we reached Murton
and had a cup of tea and a hot shower. We’re all laughed out now, watching The
Voice and ready for bed.
11.5 miles
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