New Forest - mind the gap

The New Forest

Thanks to Kiz's generosity, and thnaks to DLL agreeing to babysit the dogs, we're off to the New Forest, BLISS and me.

Emptying out the car

That means someone other than me in the car. That, in turn, means cleaning it out. How do you get two black bin bags' worth of rubbish in a Ford Focus?

Instantly, that's how.

It doesn't seem to accumulate slowly, the in-car debris. It's as if the minute I turn my back there's gremlins emptying bags of all sorts of stuff over the passenger seat, the back seat, the floor and the estate bit at the back.

Anyway. It got a clean out, and a spray with the air freshener, too.

BLISS brings her own music

She did let me listen to two Goon shows on the way there, but from that point onwards she took command of the CD player.

Lunch at the pub

I'm not, generally, a fan of pub grub. I usually find it overpriced and poor value.

Pleasantly surprised, then, to have a superb pub lunch. A short menu boded well. Instead of endless blackboards listing every dish known to man (and freezer), there was menu with about six mains and a specials list of two more. Good start. I had wild mushroom pasta and BLISS had a vegetable and bean chilli and rice. Mine was spot on. Perfectly cooked pasta, the right amount of sauce with a hit of salt and pepper, cream, garlic and white wine. Mushrooms that tasted of mushroom. BLISS was raving about hers. We got lucky there, without a doubt.

Not walking, sinking

I'm resigned to getting older, increasingly frail and doddery. No-one, but no-one told me that you also morph into Captain Mainwearing out of Dads' Army. We went for a walk. “Lets go up that hill there. That'll give us a great view.” I think I actually said something like “all we need to do is get across this wet bit here”.

The first two or three grassy clumps supported my (not inconsiderable) weight. The third or fourth one didn't and I disappeared up to the hip in sticky mud. BLISS had two thoughts: camera, and how to stop laughing, in case, like, it's actually a serious situation. I had two thoughts, too. One: how to get the left leg out of the quick-mud without shedding the trainer, never to be seen again. Two: zip up the pockets, fast, to protect the valuable stuff, the camera and wallet.

I emerged, to further hilarity. We continued the walk, and we passed the sign on the other side of the quick-mud. “Danger, unsafe ground, do not pass” it said. There was no twin sign on the other side, the side we'd approached it from.

Apparently, there's little funnier than the step by step squelch from a mud-filled training shoe. The shower was interesting. I'm not good at hand-washing clothes.

Then...

...we went into Burley (I was just covered in dry mud by then, almost presentable), had a swim and a sauna and another superb meal (somehow we managed to cram in three courses, all delicious).