Welcome to the HoLEwalk! A walk south west from Hockering to the furthest point: Land's End. This journey is going to be split into three sections consisting of two weeks each: Hockering to Oxford, Oxford to "somewhere near Taunton" and "somewhere near Taunton" to Land's End.
It's strange starting off again. This time, we've made no kit lists and done scant new preparation, on the basis that we should know what we're doing by now. I have various replacement items: new boots and insoles, new trainers, new snazzy shorts (thank-you the Molls) and new bras (bras don't last if they're worn and sweated into every day for ten weeks). The Tesco microfibre knickers are still going strong though! As you can see from the picture, Rich has a new baseball cap from the Marsden March he did (I was on call) and new insoles. My excuse is that men's clothing lasts better than women's.
We seem to be suffering from the familiar ennui as we get ready to leave, but by 9:30 we're off. We go down our drive and Rectory Road, along The Street and cross the A47 to go down Mattishall Road. This is currently closed to traffic and I joke that there might be a six foot deep trench blocking our way.
There is, of course, a six foot deep trench, but fortunately it runs parallel to the road, so we can easily skirt past.
The weather is bright and sunny, but there is a stiff breeze that we always seem to be walking into. It means that it's not great weather for spotting wildlife, but I soon catch sight of a yellow hammer flying across the road. I ask Rich to confirm but he hasn't put in his contact lenses and naturally we have no binoculars. Thomas gave Rich some lightweight ones for Christmas to take on the trip but, needless to say, we have forgotten them ( along with my swimmers and a comb, so far). Perhaps we should have written a kit list after all.
We turn off the road onto a path across fields we use frequently to walk to Mattishall for lunch. Rather than turning towards the village however, we continue straight ahead, starting to notice some drops of rain. We cross a road and pass onto a track, which we have taken with Yvonne in the past. This is rougher underfoot than I remember, probably because it was much wetter when we came this way before. Rich also tells me that it's not actually a right of way, which might explain it. We haven't got a map for this section in any case.
We finally make it onto the map and turn down a track (this one is a right of way) towards a farm. We climb up onto a verge to let a tractor and trailer pass and, somehow, Rich tears his sock. I have remembered a sewing kit this time, so can mend it later.
The farm itself is beautiful: low, red brick buildings with hanging baskets of geraniums. There are guinea fowl pecking in the field, sleek, brown bullocks outside, and two cows in a stall with their newborn calves guarded by a nose-ringed bull. The pen next door has clean, pink and black pigs that have burrowed into the fresh straw. Rich describes it like a farm in a children's story book.
As we climb over a stile, we hear a steam train whistle. We yomp downhill towards the Mid-Norfolk railway, just as a steamie is approaching.
Once the train has passed, we cross a rather precarious stream bridge to cross the railway line itself. At least we know that there can't be a train coming, as it's a single track line. This is not something that happened on the HoCWalk!
We climb through the woods on the other side and arrive at Garvestone. I used to do Zumba every Sunday in Garvestone village hall and it's disorientating to emerge in somewhere so familiar. We have a break on a bench in the churchyard, occasionally being thwacked around the head by a tree branch caught by the wind. The Eccles cakes still taste delicious though and Garvestone is the first of many churches along the way today.
Next is Reymerstone, which is best described as sleepy, to say the least. We turn off past the church (with tower) to head towards Southburgh (church with spire - very pretty). As we walk up the road, I'm despairing of seeing any wildlife when suddenly a large, glossy deer runs across the road in front of us. We head from Southburgh towards Woodrising (no church!) on a zigzag track through fields of crops. We decide to stop here for lunch, as the rest of the day will be mostly road walking. We go behind a hedge for shelter from the wind. The heatwave of last summer seems a long time ago.
The rest of the day is road. We cross the watershed between the waters heading to the Yare and the Wash and then there is a blank on the map where there are no paths. Originally, we thought this might be because of the military barracks in Watton but the land has several drainage ditches and I muse that these might have made the area difficult to cross. Richard reinforces the idea by speculating that it could have been bog land before the ditches were dug. We are obviously wrong.
We skirt round towards Scoulton (church with tower, nowhere near the village) and meet the B1108. This goes straight into Watton, but it is the road to Norwich and is very busy. This far out, it doesn't have a pavement. The plan is to turn off again, even though that adds some distance. We turn down a road perpendicular to Watton and head towards Broadmoor. It's not very auspicious.
We now notice faded signs on the farms: 'Carbrooke Hall Estate'. Maybe this is why there are no paths; a long-gone landowner has forbidden them. We then approach Carbrooke (church with tower) - a Wayland village, according to the sign. There's plenty of land, but no ways as far as I can see. There is, however, another reason why we have come this way.
Richard noticed 'Preceptory Earthworks' on the map. He tells me that it won't be Stonehenge or the Great Pyramid of Cheops, but it might be interesting. As we approach the area, there is a very clear private drive sign on the access land, so we walk along the field, but the site is completely obscured by thick trees and scrub. We get to a crossroads without ever seeing the Preceptory. I spot a path behind the bus shelter. It looks as if it's somewhere people go to smoke, but still it's worth a try. The path leads onto a footpath that is clearly access to view the monument. Across a muddy stream and through some trees, we get a glimpse of our quarry: some lumps in a green field.
A Preceptory is a monastic building belonging to the Knights Templar and Hospitallers. 'Maybe that why there are no paths!' Rich ponders. 'Probably. They were a bunch of weirdos' I rather uncharitably reply.
We continue on, along Drury Lane ( not that one) and it starts to rain. We arrive in Watton quite early and head to our stop for the night 'The Willow House'.
Total distance: 18 miles
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