Ridgeway 3: Ashbury to Wantage (Grove)

Hello, folks. 

Today was the best day of the walk so far, but it did not go without incident. I woke up early to get the best out of the upcoming archaeological wonders, and left the Rose and Crown just after 8, full of beans, and other aspects of the Full English. After several miles, within striking range of Wayland's Smithy (a famous neolithic long barrow), I stuck my hand in my right pocket to discover the hotel keys I had forgotten to return. Oh, bugger. I found a diagonal back down the hill, and spotted a perching raptor en route, but was feeling a bit beleaguered at the thought of having added about 3 miles onto my day through my mistake. Luckily, a chap (who I could swear was one of the cast of Horrible Histories) spotted me in a cafe and gave me a lift back up the hill. So, only 2 miles added. 

The rest of the day was great. I saw the Smithy, and took a few photos, but it's really more about being there, and I was fortunate that there weren't too many tourists present, other than me. After about half an hour I sauntered on, and got myself to the White Horse of Uffington. I was dreading to see the wonderful White Horse in a similar state to the last two chalk figures I had seen, which were looking shabby and unloved in the browning grass. But it was in great nick, green and pristine - perhaps the nearby airbase has been water-bombing it? The hillside was much more green than those nearby, I noticed. I wandered around beaming among a few others enjoying the sunshine, mostly locals getting a good vantage point to watch a nearby airshow, or, families with kids flying kites off the Iron Age hill-fort ramparts. It was great.

Now I had a decision to make - did I go down the wonderfully named Blowingstone Road, too see the Blowingstone, and have a half at the nearby Blowingstone Inn? Apparently there is a stone hidden in someone's front yard with a hole in it, and if you blow on it hard enough, you can make a small noise of some kind. (In the Middle Ages, you made your fun however you could.) The stone and inn sounded tempting (although I am glad I do not have such a stone in my front garden). But, I decided to keep going on the Ridgeway to Letcombe Regis, where a bus would take me down into the market town of Wantage. Another fine raptor was spotted in the trees on the way. Both turned out to be Buzzards. 

Wantage is a cool place; there's lots of Tudor half-timbered buildings with Turkish Barbers operating out of them, heaps of tradies drinking in the pubs, and about 6 op shops, which I visited in hope of replacing some of my thoroughly stinky clothes. I am now all good for socks, and have a new long-sleeve shirt, but fresh underpants await me further down the trail. The op shop people may have thought me a bit weird when I asked about second hand underpants and I had to explain that was normal in Australia. I didn't have time to explain that they are normally donated new, so perhaps that explained the funny looks. 

My place this evening is the Volunteer Inn, which originally housed a volunteer rifles crew, but now houses people who come to visit the Formula One Williams Centre, which is just down the road. Car enthusiasts abound around here. The hotel cheap and 'cheerful', because it's on a main road, and, the main train line to Bristol. My room faces both. Earplugs have been provided. Wish me luck. 

The weather tomorrow may feature ALL the rain the country hasn't had in the last 6 weeks, or, none of it, if the storms don't cross the Chilterns. I'll make my mind up in the morning, but if it really is chucking it down as threatened, I'lll go to Oxford by bus - it turns out to be just up the main road I'm on - and mooch about in my raincoat, buying whisky and underpants. If it's clear, I might bus back to Letcombe and start the trail again. Let's see.