Getting out of a rut

....by visiting Rutland Water.

I dreamt that I had a week off and it was due to reach 24 degrees. In reality I have today off and it’s going to struggle to get out of single figures. I also dreamt that the very friendly plumber I spoke to this week completed the job but claimed he’d not received the cash left out for him. It’s like my dream short-circuited and presented real life back to me, but with errors.

I got the train to Oakham in Rutland and from there walked towards Rutland Water, one of Europe’s biggest artificial lakes. The village of Hambleton would have once occupied higher ground above the surrounding countryside and now sits on a spit of land jutting into the artificial reservoir. I headed there otherwise I would had have to walk at least twenty miles around the whole reservoir.

The Hambleton Peninsula is well kitted out for walkers and cyclists, with a trail going all the way around. I strolled it for a few hours. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a concentration of sheep and lambs. Sheep are so funny that they flop their tongue out to call; it doesn’t help with the general impression of their intelligence. Hambleton is characterised by a couple of exclusive country hotels behind imposing driveways, and geese pecking in half-submerged fields from when the surrounding valley was flooded.

I’ve been reading The Salt Path, which I finished with the sun on my face as I sat on a memorial bench for a Christine Stone. She liked a very nice spot, did Christine. And the book makes me want to quit work and walk the South West Coastal Path. It would be easier if all my camping gear wasn’t in Mozambique.