Richard, a friend of Frank’s arrived to do the walk with us. He and I chatted a lot while Frank kept his binoculars busy. Sadly the walk was fifteen miles along the old Taw railway track; fifteen, dead-straight miles of tarmac and cycle bells warning us to step aside.
Richard’s feet were blistered at the end of the day, but his company kept us amused and the occasional path-side coffee and cake did much to make the day special. Alyson fetched our bags and met us in Westward Ho! Now we would say goodbye to the tents for a while. We had a night in a youth hostel to look forward to and then another in a B&B. Frank had lost one of his the detachable legs from his walking trousers and he feared he had left his coat at Chivenor so he bought another jumper as he felt the wind too much.
We booked into the youth hostel and I tasted Frank’s cooking for the first time. It was good but even better was the first of Alyson’s picnics that were to last us for two lunches!
Verdict: The most officious warden of a Youth Hostel.
0 comments:
Post a Comment