I was not sure if the payment for my room included breakfast, and the people at the inn last night did not seem to know either. By 8:30 am the two times I had been given for breakfast starting had now passed and the inn remained locked and dark, so I gave up, packed and left my bedroom in the inn's annex, buying a coffee and BLT baguette from a little place in the village before starting today's ramble.
The first part of my walk was on low, largely flat land below the chalk hills to the right. Not quite what I expected for a Ridgeway path. However the mud on the wide track, enclosed by trees or hedges, was frozen and I made fast progress. As is typical of the Ridgeway, it tended to miss nearby villages, which were a kilometre or so to the left of the route. It did pass a large chalk quarry, mainly filled by water, most of it hidden behind the trees and bushes which lined the track. Many of the bushes were of "Travellers joy" (also called old man's beard and a type of clematis), with diaphanous, cotton like fibres extending out from seeds at this time of year. On mass, they gave the bushes a fluffy look. Contrasting green ivy curled around many trees and bushes.
Before the town of Prince's Risborough I crossed my first significant hill of the day. Although the Ridgeway just touches the edge of the town, not having visited the place before I turned off the route and headed for its centre passed red brick, red tiled houses. A sign said it was a "Medieval market town since 1376", which rather implied it was still Medieval. Despite this claim the high street looked modern and busy, with just a few thatched houses. It seemed a good place to stop for lunch. While I ate I watched people and empty buses pass. Leaving I saw another group of red kites soaring above me, endlessly gliding around without apparent effort. Although reintroduced into the area only in 1989 after having been eradicated in the 19th century, they are now a common sight, even in more urban areas.
Between Prince's Risborough and Wendover the Ridgeway climbed steeply up the escarpment into the hills on a long flight of steps. Much of the afternoon was spent in beech woodland but there were panoramic views at several spots. The air was not that clear today or they would have been more impressive.
One of today's notable points was passing Chequers, the Prime Minister's country house. Signs warned it was a criminal offence to leave the footpath and there were a few CCTV cameras to check you obeyed. Soon after there was a farm shop where they sold snacks which delayed me slightly. My Bed & Breakfast for the night were keen to know my arrival time and the unplanned delay at the farm shop meant that arrival at the time I promised to was now in peril.
I hurried on, but a hill, with a muddy path, was doing its best to slow me down. This morning the mud was frozen and allowed fast walking but by now it had warmed up, soft and ready to attach itself to me. There had been no rain for some days, so instead of the liquid slurry I had experienced at the start of my trip, which splashed over my trousers and sucked at my boots, the mud was now more viscous and sticky. Great wodges of it stuck to my soles. Consequently, even when I was walking on grass, as the path ran along sloping ground around the last hill, my mud bottomed boots tried to slide downhill beneath me. Although my trekking poles provided support, my dodgy left knee was suffering as it struggled to keep me upright. On the final promontory there was a memorial to those who had died in the Boer war. From the plinth you see a large area. Lights were just starting to sparkle from nearby towns, and lines of white headlights and red taillights crossed the landscape below me.
Wendover looked a busy place with many shops, pubs and restaurants. My Bed & Breakfast was on the southern outskirts but I returned to the centre for my evening meal at an Italian, the Spanish restaurant being closed until February. My belly is now weighed down by "frito misto" and lemon tart.
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