Walking Holiday

Walking Holiday.

 

I decided to go on a walking holiday. It is time to get away from everything and see life with new eyes. Packing my rucksack with some fresh clothes and a weather coat of plastic. My one arrangement with modern times the plastic mackintosh is light and easy to carry. I have one of those tents that one blows up and a sleeping bag with a roll of soft spongy plastic to cover the ground so that it is not too hard when sleeping. My small gas fire and a saucepan to boil soup or water for tea are easily stowed in my rucksack. Off I set walking through the country lanes of Kent. My eyes took in all that I saw, the birds and their nests in the hedgerows. The honeysuckle smelling sweetly and the shy wild flowers hiding in between the hedges were a sight for my tired old eyes. I should do this more often the thought flashed through my mind.

The first night in an open field where I blew up my tent. With my gas cooker I soon warmed up a tin of soup, that and a ham sandwich made my supper. Lying in my sleeping bag I watched the diamonds appear in the skies above. Each star or diamond seemed to have a message for me. I was fascinated by all that I saw, shooting stars flashed down to earth and I remembered to make a wish wondering if such wishes ever come true or are a part of our heresy passed on from father to son. I awoke the next morning as the soft tongue of a sheep dog licked my face. Looking around me I was now in the middle of a flock of sheep. The sheep dog new its business and soon the sheep were driven to another field. Getting up I hung my sleeping bag over the hedge to let it air while I made myself a pot of tea sweetened with sugar cubes from Tate and Lyle.

 

After breakfast I repacked my rucksack and went on my way. Now I was in open farmland orchard after orchard lined my way. Cherries were ripening in the warm Sun apples and pears with plums and greengages promising a wonderful harvest. Not many people were about even the small village that I passed through looked as if it waiting to be kissed awake by a handsome young prince. The village shop took my eye and I went on in to replenish my small stock of food. The lady of the shop was a pleasant person and I asked what smelled so good. Smiling she went into the back of the shop and came back with some custard tarts. I paid for my food and left the shop and the village eating one of the custard tarts.

The next evening I pitched my tent a little earlier I did not want to get caught in a flock of sheep again. The field was empty of animals and I settled down in my sleeping bag watching the night skies. I awoke in the early hours of the morning. My supply of food I had hung over the branch of a tree. To my delight I watched a fox jumping up to try to get some of the food. The tree branch was too high and he eventually left with longing looks at the carrier bag with my food in it. A week later and I was on my way home to my house on the Dartford Heath. It had been a wonderful refreshing walking holiday, which I knew I would do again the following year. Bern

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