Chapter 2: Ancient Paths to The Land of the North Folk

Travelling to the end – to get to the beginning!

Well, that was far smoother than anticipated, I feel a little suspicious.

Last week, the van (The Beast) developed a fault. A yellow squiggly flashing light on the dash, that foretold doom

The mechanic checked the fault log. It had come up 32 times. But as it was no longer showing on the dash, it ‘should’ be OK. There’s no guarantee. He reassured me, but it shouldn’t break down…

Shoulds and shouldn’ts, oh the uncertainty…

Nonetheless, after a particularly taxing NHS day yesterday, the Beast and I set off on a 7.5-hour journey.

It’s not the brightest idea to leave at 5.30 pm, rush hour. But I blased through the A30, even with its ongoing ‘improvements’.

The A30 wicker man is no longer there, succumbed to the ravages of English weather. I miss his fine straw butt

Making good time, under the light of a waxing moon. I got as far as Worcester before being diverted off the M5 due to road closure. The M6 was the usual hell, two closures, with heavy traffic being squised from four lanes into one. The downside of travelling overnight. Roadworks

After caning caffeine and jelly babies for an hour longer than scheduled. By 2 a.m., I arrived in Hunstanton, somewhat bleary-eyed. Using intel from park4night, I rolled into the library carpark, where you can park overnight for £2

5.30 am, I was up again to drive to another carpark, where I would reluctantly abandon the beast. Then, head for my first bus of the day. I anticipated a long and stressful day.

Navigating towns, cities, unless it’s historical, and public transport is my worst nightmare. The noise, the crowds, the machines, I don’t get how it all works. I am like an idiot abroad

The terns were vocal under grey morning skies. I made my way along the sea front. A chilly wind blew, the sea was wild, dark, and brooding

My first bus to King’s Lynn arrived on time, and not long into the journey, I had my first sighting of a Kite – a good omen

My first impressions of Norfolk, it’s very flat, yippee

It all went very swimmingly, five buses, a total cost of £11.90, bargain. And one train £19.59 for a 30 min journey…

The Stevenage bus pulled into Luton, just as my next bus was leaving. But it was OK, it was 10 mins to the next one. And I still caught my connection to Ivinghoe on time

2pm, and I was back in the pretty village of Ivinghoe. It was good to have a wander and stretch the legs after a long 24 hours.

A quick stop at the local tavern before walking up to the campsite

My pack felt quite manageable. It’s either lighter than last year, or I’m fitter. It’s probably a bit of both. Besides, a lot of it is water. I can start the day with 12kg and drink my way down to 10kg.

But I need to repack, as something is digging in my back, and the pack feels out of balace. My right boot is also digging in my foot, not good

Town Farm Campsite sits right beneath Ivinghoe Beacon, and I have a great view from my pitch, under now blue skies. But there is still a chill to that wind.

Pitching my tiny, paper thin, technical tent, with sleep deprivation, was the next challenge. Attention is needed to avoid puncturing it or splitting a pole… again

Tent errected, and after a much needed siesta, it’s time to eat and plan for tomorrow.

I will pick up the Icknield Way straight from the campsite. I’ve already walked to the Beacon, and I would have to needlessly back track.

But you can read its history here

So, a very strong start. That’s the difficult bit done. All I need to do now is walk back to the van. Day one tomorrow, bright and early…

If you would like to walk any stages with me, please feel free to get in touch

If you want to catch up on the story so far see the link: https://wordpress.com/post/fern-weh.uk/753

If you enjoy my tales, you may wish to consider buying me a Coffee – Thank you, I will need them…