Walton on the Heath - The Duke's Head

Tuesday 10th September

Now We Are Six-Tee - Lil has joined the club!     Happy Birthday!
Walkers: Farty, T.B., 8 Legs, Windy, Lil and Clat.  Mrs P is out there looking at creatures in her front garden (better than her back passage), and Sally has just returned from a back to back and is now on it,
pushing out the zzzzzzzzs.
Distance: 6.84 miles
Loss of the Walk:  Lil's 60 Balloon

We gathered at Lil's chosen venue, and glorified in the glorious hanging baskets which adorn this pub.  A builder was busy loading up a skip, and T.B. was equally busy, unloading it, and placing the contents in his car.  Windy was worried that one of her gaiters had faded, until she realised she had it on inside out - it happens.
Finally, we set off.  The skies were blue and blustery, the sun was out, and Lil was attached to her balloon.  Across Walton Heath we went - we are finally getting the hang of this area, and knowing what track leads where.  When it comes to the other side of the road, we still manage to get a bit tangled in the undergrowth, and never pop out where we hope to.  One day we too shall crack this code.
Much dodging of la merde in la meadow, as big dogs obviously choose to let rip
here, and their loving owners take care not to clear it up.  We moved on, into the woods and along the edge of the merdeow towards a track which led towards civilisation.  We happened upon a herd of young cows with one lonely( or lucky) bullock in their midst. 

We came to a crossroads and veered off to the right, eventually coming to a bridge over the River M25.  We stopped at Colley Hill, admired the view, and popped the champagne cork - marvellous darling.  We were observed by some more cows - this time some Galloways but not the George m.p. version.  Photos were taken, merriment ensued, and we set off once again, eventually re-bridging the M25 and over into some woods.  Loads of berries and fruitfulness to be seen, and sampled, and some fores and againsts as we hit the golf course - calamity! Lil's attachment was missing, and none of us had seen her blow off.  Should we alert a.t.c., as her 60 balloon was somewhere up there?  We heard nothing, so assumed all was well in the skies - what a shame.

Over the Dorking Road - oh dear, a dead deer to behold.  Into the bushes we went and wended our way past some very posh houses on our final leg of our journey.  Windy showed us her gaff - Windycot, but she hasn't quite got round to buying it yet.  Moving on, up, and eastwards, we eventually made it to the pub.
Wendy, our wonderful landlady was much in evidence, and full of beans - a weird term for joviality and conviviality i believe, or ibuleve which is good for sprains.  Our fave table was sat at, and the excellent service ensued.  It's been far too long since our last visit, and no real reason why - but it certainly hasn't lost any of it's 'thing' for us.  Lil opened her presents, and the lunches were enjoyed soon afterwards.  Minnie was resplendent in her latest fashion accessory - a commando coat, with green sleeves and was very pleased with the odd dainty morsel coming her way.  Sadly, Farty and T.B. have lost one of their hens - Bianca, which I'm sure wasn't named after the character in Eastenders - more to do with her colour methinks.
We couldn't help overhearing a group of male golfers nearby, yakking on about a hole in one, then a prostate featured, followed by a kimono and zimmer frames, and this was while they were downing their holes in one with booze - the possibilities are endless.  Time for the bill, time to go, time to examine the skip once again, and to make for home.
Next week it's Farty's birthday walk - choice tba, so we wait with baited breath, kimonos and zimmer frames for the venue.  toodle loo