Thursday 24 April 2014

Walk 4: An embarrassment of riches (or 'I can't believe I left my camera behind!')




NB not my photos - they are all borrowed




So I had a lovely day today, but babalu was less convinced. It was screamies here, screamies there and screamies everywhere. As I have given birth to a total bumpkin, at about 5pm I decided that the answer was to go for a walk and this I did without taking anything like a camera, phone, dog collar etc. Just stuck my boots on, a hat on madam's head and go.

It was a particularly lovely late afternoon - no wind, warm warm sunshine and a 360 degree bird symphony. I went out across a large sheep pasture which is bordered by woodland. It has plenty of oaks, ash, field maple and in the wetter parts, alder and willow. There are mixed hedgerows, streams, ditches and boggy patches too. 

I had not many thoughts in my head except to restore some equilibrium in both our spirits and de-agitate the dog whilst I was at it. I was idly thinking about what would happen to breastfeeding if I got bitten by an adder (as you do) and approaching the border of the field as I did so, from about 30 feet away. I had decided not to cross the stile into the next field, as a group of frisky (yes, that again) bullocks were congregating near by and so turned left along the edge of the field and its border. 

And then this genuinely happened as I was having my snake musing. I heard a slight rustling in the leafmold and looking down, saw a fine, fine snake at least three feet long. If I had had my camera there would have been time to take a photo. He was gorgeous! Flicking his tongue from a head held steady above his smooth, decorated coils. He was a grass snake, so posed no danger and I was able to look at him for at least a minute. He tasted the air with his forked tongue for a few more seconds then slid off. It was completely enchanting. I haven't seen a British snake as an adult and only glimpsed grass snakes as a child.



As if there wasn't enough to delight any nature lover, next a pair of widgeons flapped out of the stream in front of me - they are a colourful type of duck with orange colouring. Duck a l'orange, if you will.

Around me I could hear woodpeckers and above were buzzards. Beneath  my feet I noticed dog violets, milkmaids and wood anemone and there was a gorgeous fragrance coming from the acres of bluebells being heated up by the late sun.

I decided to cut back into the woodland when a young deer started out from under a tree - in a flash, my dog discovered 'gear Mazerati' in his 12 year old self and was after it and out of sight in seconds. He came panting back after a few minutes, visibly proud.

I actually laughed out loud when the final bit of biodiversity presented itself to me - in amongst the bluebells I nearly trod on several early purple orchids. 


I feel I had the nature spots of about five different walks all rolled into one today. Happily too, babalu was cheery and chilled throughout as well as after it. I had a celebratory glass of white wine in the garden and lay on a blanket with her, chatting about the marvellous things we had seen.

Monday 21 April 2014

Walk No 3: Where the Cocking Down is it?!

I don't know where the hell I am, but it is pretty

Today's trip out started at around lunch time again and the direction of travel was west towards Cocking, located on the South Downs Way again. The plan was to ascend to the ridge, in much the same vein as the Chanctonbury episode. Ominously, I was in a similar condition to that aforementioned day and so was babalu; a right grumpy pair we were. I can nearly always get a smile out of her though - I can crack through her gloomiest of visages as long as the right combination of kisses, funny faces and exiting of wind (hers) can be brought together.


The Easter bunny



I had no map, no satnav and today, no sense. I navigated my way along the country lanes without mishap until Midhurst (the non-commissioned sister series to Midsomer Murders) and then used my phone to get my bearings, but that was OK because it gave me the option to include ferry crossings. 






We arrived into the snigger-worthy Cocking village and from memory I went up a lane which I knew to run close to the South Downs Way. Annoyingly there was no way through that I could find (there was, it just eluded me). But no matter, madam needed feeding and so we parked up under an old viaduct on a leafy lane, the landy crushing a large patch of aromatic wild garlic beneath its wheels.


Wild honeysuckle
Back in the village again I parked up by the church which I KNEW to be right near the South Downs Way. I recognised it from when I did the SDW before. But where the Cocking Down was it? It started to rain. Rather than waste any more time on what was probably going to be a fairly short scamper anyway, I bundled babalu into the Baby Bjorn, complete with 'rabbit with ears' hat for Easter and we began our walk in what my newly acquired compass told me was an easterly direction. 
Friends en route



It really didn't matter though - the countryside around and about was lovely and the rain shower (which we jointly sheltered from beneath my polka dot green Jack-in-a-Pack) passed quickly. We walked across crop fields, hugging a line of oaks that ascended a gentle hill. The walk was probably no more than three miles or so; taking in fields, woodland and streams; the dog availed himself of these for dual cooling down and refreshment purposes.




My route also took in a B&B that my pal and I stayed in when we did the SDW walk. It's called Moonlight Cottage and although perfectly pleasant, I gleefully recall it as being a kind of chintz-on-acid scenario of floral pottery and relationship meltdown between the hosting couple. They were charming, really.


Who doesn't love a ploughed field? I do!

Babalu was starting to make strangulated grumpy sounds, so without delay I completed my loop which, with the best will in the world, I cannot tell you exactly where it was and returned to the start. A quick detour to the village shop for some ice-cream (there is a definite post-walk theme developing) one of these ice creams as it happens, and we were back on the road.



Thank god that's over!


I had to pull over at Goodwood racecourse to feed and change madam, but there are surely worse places to do these things. And what's more, I was lucky enough to spot one of the finest examples of a man in red trousers that I have seen in a long time! Just look at this exquisite example! I am particularly enamoured of the extra pizzazz the yellow shirt and tank top adds to the outfit. I wonder if he votes Labour? (Clue: he doesn't).




I got home to the glorious sunshine that had evaded us all day! Another walk walked.

Thursday 17 April 2014

Walk 2: Bignor (aka a much more successful walk)



The weather was gorgeous and sunny for this walk and I headed out of the door at about 1 pm. This time I was using the Baby Bjorn, which babalu likes to be in in the facing out position. She tips her head back to look at the trees, all the while making little cooing noises. She will often then nod off like this - it looks dreamy! 




I was in the landy which is good for these country lanes and drove the short distance to Bignor, home of Bignor Roman Villa and then up the steep winding hill which brings you to the ridge top at Bignor Hill which is both on the South Downs Way and the Slindon Estate. 





Luckily today there was only a light breeze and both baby and I were in better shape nap-wise than on our first walk. We set off in a westerly direction along the track, which alternates between opens sweeps of classic chalky South Downs and leafy lanes. There were young bullocks frisking about in the fields (OK, humping each other) and I could see lambs in the distance too. I didn't hear skylarks, but could clearly hear buzzards mewling as they moved in slow circles high above.


I phoned an old friend, with whom I had walked 50 miles of the South Downs Way a couple of years ago (we did it West to East, finishing at Amberley) because returning here today was just so nostalgic - the same time of year, similar bright, bright weather and my dog, mooching along in front with the outer tips of his ears bouncing in rhythm with each other. 


The trip had been a happy one as he and I either chatted or walked in companionable silence in the gorgeous spring countryside.



As I stood talking to him on the phone now, I looked out across a a bare crop field that formed a slight hill against the sky. Behind it, the view fell away to the countryside below, all bright fields of oilseed rape and pockets of dark green woodland stretching to the horizon. At that moment, across the field from left to right ran a group of around twenty young deer, their dark shapes and short antlers easy to make out against the paler chalky soil.

Babalu and I walked on at a comfortable pace and found a shady spot to sit and have a feed, in the shade of a brambly hedge.

What a beautiful spot....not for the first time I thought about how lucky we are to live in this part of the world and how great to be able to bring a baby up around here.


The logistics of the kit is starting to make sense too - the baby Bjorn is still the best carrier for the moment and the miscellaneous collection of bibs, nappies, muslin cloths etc seems to holding up too. I packed it all back up and carried on the walk. I ended up doing a big oblong loop which brought me back past the distinctive radio masts.



Once I had coaxed the dog back into the landy (he was keen to carry on the walk) I thought over what a successful three hour ramble it had been - with mood, weather and route all working in our favour. On the way home, I stopped at Charlies Farm Shop and, as I hadn't brought any food out with me, treated myself to some chocolate ice-cream. It came in one of those little tubs, the sort that used to form the backbone of interval snackery at the theatre, last seen in about 1989. 

A good day out!

Tuesday 15 April 2014

Why I really carry a Swiss Army knife at all times....

Regardless of the handbag or rucksack, it always contains a Swiss Army knife. Why? Because I am a child of the 80's and I read the SAS Survival Handbook and fully expected to be nuked, shipwrecked or competing with a gecko for the last drop of moisture in a desert somewhere. But mostly nuked. 


The SAS Survival Handbook by John 'Lofty...


Consequently, in 1986 I had a homemade survival 'kit', consisting of a leather rolled up pouch, into which I carefully placed waterproof matches (snapped in half so the woody bit could be used for kindling - always thinking people!), fishing line, vitamins - so important to keep those B6 levels up in life or death situation - and a few other essentials. I also had a very non health and safety camping knife with which to garotte bears etc. 

The certainty that the world would resemble a post-apocalyptic Mad Max scenario lives on in me in the form of a talismanic penknife habit. And mighty useful it is too for breaking into recalcitrant packaging from the likes of Pret A Manger.

I'm not sure it would be much help in a nuking situation though although it is quite handy on walks.


Monday 14 April 2014

Walk No 1: First 'official' walk

The lower slopes of Chanctonbury Ring

So fuelled by my lofty ideals, on Tuesday last week I gathered together my kit and the baby. I'd had a poor night's sleep and was feeling groggy and stressed but one of my guiding principles is not to wait until the 'perfect' moment, but JFDI (just fucking do it).



KIT LIST
Me
  • Brasher leather lightweight walking boots – about 6 years old
Ye olde Brashers
  • Ergobaby Performance baby carrier (second hand, ebay £78)
  • Fuji Finepix camera (second hand £50 http://www.preloved.co.uk/)
  • Regatta 25l daysack, £15, new
  • Alpaca scarf
  • Gym pants
  • Hooded fleece
  • Peter Storm Jack in a Pack (green with white polks dots)
  • OS Explorer Map – 4 cm to 1 km / 2.5 inches to 1 mile
  • Garmin thingy so I know the distance
  • Sunglasses
  • Hat
  • Food - Boiled egg, from our hens and some chocolate
  • Water

Massively unimpressed baby
Babalu
  • a bottle of expressed breastmilk (not keen on the bottle, but good for a back-up)
  • Polarn-O-Pyret windstopper fleece all-in-one
  • A sunhat
  • A woolly hat
  • Bibs x 2
  • Nappies  x 3 
  • Water wipes
It was one of those really annoying days where everything took forever. I faffed about picking up piles of muddle and moving them, so they continue their task of being a pile of muddle elsewhere. Naps, feeding and changing cycled round without a good moment to cut in with the required car journey and so on....

However, I finally set off at about 1.30 pm in the direction of  Chanctonbury Ring, West Sussex an iron age hill fort located on the South Downs Way. There are a number of ways to approach the walk, but for today I planned to keep it simple by parking at the bottom of the hill and simply walking up and back.


The lower slopes of Chanctonbury Ring

THE WALK

I parked the landy up on a verge (too big to get under the bars to the car park) and wrestled a reluctant baby into her fleecy onesie, thus: 

Stranky madam posted into windstopper onesie



Although the kit-list looks long, in fact the overall package was a neat one - baby on the front in the Ergobaby and rucksack on the back with all the bits and pieces. I slung the camera across my body and off I set.




It was a beautiful day, sunny and windy but the trouble started almost immediately. Babalu carried on an extended episode of grunting that lasted for the entire walk. As I climbed the chalky hill, winding up through beech woods and not-yet-flowering bluebells, my bonny bairn grumbled and groaned and wriggled and mithered and generally communicated her satisfaction levels to me - low mummy, very very low. I persevered and reached the top, usually a happy moment as you finally emerge from the tree cover onto the cropped grassy summit with sweeping views in three directions, with the ring itself off to your right. 

Unfortunately, here the grunting turned into visible distress as the wind whipped up to the point where my girl was gasping, blowing bubbles and blinking furiously. It was too much for her and I immediately headed back down the hill. Not a wild success. I took her out of the carrier and stopped on a fallen tree to give her a feed and a hug. She went crackers when I tried to put her back into the ergobaby, so ended up carrying her down the hill - satisfaction levels increased to 'tolerating it, mummy'.


Inexplicably worried at all times


But it wasn't a total wash-out - I went to Waitrose on the way home!

Post-match analysis
Having tried the Ergobaby a couple of times now, I think the grunting is because she isn't quite big enough for it yet and really needs to be a few pounds heavier and slightly larger to be comfy in it. For now I'm going to revert to the Baby Bjorn.


I was tired, Babalu was narked and it was too windy to complete the walk to name a few downsides, but it was my first proper attempt with all the gear and we did at least get out the door and up a hill.  






Thursday 10 April 2014

In which I mull over my plan for walking with baby this summer

The baby, the baby carrier, the camera and the rucksack

7th April 2014

My plan for the summer is to do less eating and chatting and more walking and exploring.  We are lucky enough to live within striking distance of the South Downs; We being me, Himself and my five month old baby girl and we live in deepest, darkest countryside with assorted four-legged companions and a considerable number of two-legged, egg-laying ones.

Like any new mother knows, the days can churn by in a seemingly endless, groundhog day-style of feeding and changing, interspersed with fractured forays into laundry and other domestic tasks. Getting out in the fresh air (which I am assured by both modern sorts and the old guard as A Good Thing) has already helped me in many ways - no day featuring a walk among trees and greenery ever feels wasted. But I wanted to do more with it and give it a focus.

So I was ruminating on the things that make me happy and how best to use this once in a lifetime opportunity of being legitimately away from work. I didn't think I would look back and wish I'd done more sitting and more eating. Exploring, nature and photography, with my favourite person in the world is my answer to all kinds of questions about being a mother this summer. 

So my plan was born: Get a good baby carrier, a camera, a map and a cram a lot of baby-related paraphernalia into the smallest rucksack I can manage and set about exploring the South Downs; it's rivers, nature reserves, beaches and hill-tops. Take photographs. Write it all down. Have something to show and share with my daughter when she is grown up.