Oxted - The George

Tuesday 4th March
Oxted - The George
Urbane Again

Walkers: Windy, Mrs P., (who has been in bed with lurgy nearly a week, and this was her first day fully up ), and Clat. 
 Lil couldn't make it as she was appearing in 'One Born Every Minute' - in the Delivery Suite no less, expecting her new settees.  No 8 Legs either, as they are busy with appts instead of apps.
It was an appt. that delayed Farty and T.B., so they arrived later on, did their own walk, and joined us for lunch.

Distance: 5 miles-ish, as Mrs P's app 'appened to be u/s
Find of the Walk: a pink peruvian hat
Time taken: nearly 3 hours, as we meandered about and looked at things.

Re last weeks' blog and the flowers outside the gun shop..........Chris tells us that a man of 76 walked in, asked to see a gun, loaded it with his own ammo. and shot himself.   He died, but what a shock for the shop staff.

In fact, Mrs P had diced with death on the way here, gently removing a dead bird and putting it in a hedge - a bird in the hand etc.

Having alerted the pub the night before, we were allowed to park there, which is just as well, as the signs informed us that a fine of £100 could be incurred if you were not normal.  The chef was outside, clearing up and inspecting his decking.  He comes from Wells where the surf has been up due to the recent storms.  We shall see him later.
Sarth we went, down Beadles Lane and soon were on to the Greensand Way, walking behind some enormous houses. We were in an alleyway, aka snicket, twitten, snickleway, ginnell - what's wrong with ' back passage'?  Anyway, they were mainly muddy, so field walking is definitely on hold for the moment.
Spring was here - bright, clear and sunny, with big bloomers.  Some marvellous views to be had , and one enterprising person had carved animals out of his tree stumps.  Mrs P drew our attention to a 'castellated top' - yes we thought it was her clothing too, but apparently it's a roof made to look like a castle - she has been watching Grand Designs - watch out Kevin Mc Cloud.

We came off the ridge, and headed and treaded into Limpsfied - a charming village, really going back in time, with its quaint cottages, and shops, but nowhere for a coffee.  The local pub - The Bull, doesnt open until nearly 12, so we had our refreshment outside, along with the fab flapjacks from Mrs P. 

Next we crossed a muddy field - lots of dogs and walkers, all very jolly and very friendly.  We decided that these happy women have a charmed life - dog walking, then home for some tapenade on toast washed down with a glass of dry white, or mineral spring.  Then it's off to the salon for some pampering and pimple removing, before collecting Tamara, Tabatha, and Tobias from school, in the 4x4. The au pair has been left to wash the dog, and prepare dinner.

Back into Oxted now  - we passed The Barn Theatre displaying a confusing pictorial sign - looked like either pirates or men in drag were banned.  Turns out that fancy dress is forbidden - who'd have thought it?   Next, the local church, where a lamp post dedicated to William Winkle reminded us of our absent member.

The path took us to the rear and across a field full of discarded swedes and not the scandinavian variety either.  This was a horror-trip for Mrs P, as she hates them - the veg that is.  At the end of this we noted the works going on to shore-up the big land slip on the railway line.  We passed a few very busy brooks with water the colour of  mojitos and then down through fields to some ponds.

 Clat then thought she saw a dead sheep - on its back with hooves heavenward, pregnant and not moving much . If said animal is left like this it can die -  crushed by its organs.  Da da daaaaaaa! Su -'Mrs P-'erwoman went into action , along with Wenderwoman, vaulting the fence - Clat minded the bags.  As they approached, and were about to grab a hoof or two, the animal managed to wriggle itself round and up again - thank goodness.  Mrs P has the number for the RSPCA (0300 1234 999 Swan and Friends is 01737 773712) and I think we all need to make a note of that.

After all this excitement it was time to get back to the pub.  A warm welcome awaited us, the chef came to ask us how we had fared, and then fared and fed us well.  T.B. enjoyed his pork (what else?), Farty, her liver, Wend her fish and chips, Clat her steak/kidney pie, served in upside-down style, and Mrs P, her soup- her appetite isn't fully restored yet.
After coffees, we departed, and I think the urban theme for next week will be London or a surrounding area.  You will be informed. xx