Bletchingley - The Plough

Bletchingley - The Plough (or  2 soups)

Tues 14th May 2013

Parson's Egg - we think this means bad in parts.  Some of it was quite enjoyable - the coffee

break,lunch.

Walkers: Sue, Farty, TB and Wind (no rain).  Clat and Lil are still touring the U S of A while we tour the U of K.  We're not bitter.

Brian is giving Chris a birthday surprise....??!!  Hope he's remembered his tablets! Mrs P is still auctioning her furniture.

 Distance: 4 1/2 miles!!!

Time taken:1 1/2 hours

We parked up at the Plough car park and as often happens the rain started in earnest at 10.30.  We plodded up the high street and our eyes lit upon the tea room.  Well we deserved a break,we'd walked all of 200 yards.  The shop was being "manned" by a charming gay deaf boy.  Short straw or what?  A fabulous array of cakes was on display.  TB said the buns were nearly as magnificent as Farty's.  Having admired all the sweet goodies on offer, Sue, TB and I decided on cheese scones, obviously.  Mon made do with some of our crumbs.  We were chatting about what we'd seen on telly, and Sue said she'd seen a programme about antiques and stuffed animals, including a Pomeranian dog.  We thought we couldn't eat a whole one.  Farty had seen something even worse about a bloke with 7 children who had had a vasectomy.  He produced his genitalia for inspection,complete with livid scar.  The bloke was quite annoyed too.  I'm afraid we got talking about the good old airline days.  Unfortunately for TB, I'd left the Mail in the car.  Sue remembered the Rolling Stones boarding their Comet. (Blimey,going back a bit!).  She also recalled a check stewardess called Fiona "shagger" Shaw, who was once seen with a man in a jacuzzi.  It was the extra foam that attracted attention.  We mused how strange it was that check stewardesses only checked first class.

After an hour there was a glint of sun, which we'd heard from Sally had come from tropical Horsham.  Also workmen were emerging wearing shorts, so it was time to move on.  We passed the White Harte and turned south. Soon we were at Hever Pond,1000 years old and mentioned in the Doomsday book.Lots of wildlife and birds to be found here including great crested newts, and also coots,but not today, only us four.  Some mud today, but not too bad, and glorious vistas of bluebells,

my favourite.  TB secretely loves them but pretends not to, he doesn'twant to ruin his street cred.  The rain was falling quite heavily now.  Are we near anything? I asked tentatively.  What do you mean, Said Farty, Tulsa? Clarkesville?  We decided to cut the walk short.  (Pity, said TB and I), and climbed Tilberstow Hill, ending up on Rabies Heath Road.  Such a charming name.  After being nearly mown down by several speeding BMWs, Farty found a track that lead to the A25.  There were just a few stiles to straddle, quite high and wet.  Without mentioning gussets, this did cause some dampness in a certain area. Think I got round that quite nicely, don't want to get predictable.  We reached the pub, where Sally was waiting in her car, looking glamourous and not at all like Hitler. (Me)  On entering the pub, we were greeted by a waitress who seemed vaguely familiar.  Her name badge said Jacqui.  Then it came to us, Jaqui Byrne we think.  The years haven't been kind.  We remember her when she had red hair and didn't need a new hip.  She seemed a bit vague, but then I think she always was.  Sorry, is this getting a bit unkind, Miss Perfect here!  We placed our orders, Sally Farty and TB having starters, so far so good.  Then disaster.  Jaqui reappeared looking more and more like the Julie Walters "2 soups" waitress, stooped, with mad grin.  The chef had told her TB's choice of main course had run out, something she failed to tell TB.  He had to re-order while the rest of us got noshing, but at least he got a freebie.  Much hand wringing from Julie Walters.  We'd noticed what looked like teeth marks in the wall next to our table. We wondered if they'd been caused by rage or hunger!  Now children were appearing.  Cue Farty getting rabid.  She hadn't been right since Rabies Heath Road.  Shouldn't be allowed, she said, should have a picnic in the middle of the M25.  Her philosophy talks are working a treat.  The good thing is, she said, is that she can still be judgmental and slag people off, but at least she now feels guilty.  Time to go, and TB handed back the Daily Mail, saying he hadn't read much of it, as the conversation had been so scintilating.  That'll be because I was here, said Sally.  With that, we gave her a clip round the ear and headed off into the gloom.
Next week TBA.  Wend xx