Lost In Tyrell's Wood

Rather an inauspicious start today, when I dramatically fell out of bed in the early hours. I can recall aiming a retaliatory kick in the middle of a disturbed dream and then crash - I was on the floor. Hopefully the day would improve.

And it did. Driving south, Sue and I were blessed with sun and big sky during our excursion.

After attending to business in Long Statton, we parked up south of the town at Tyrell's Wood. Our intention: to fit some exercise into a busy day.


Inside the forest was lovely, full of every shade of green and all fresher than new money. All around us leaves were hanging on for dear life, in those final days before the forest stripped naked for Christmas. Underfoot, on the worn pathways, the soil was a rich black pudding mix.

Despite the sun's presence, walking in the forest was cold: finger-tingling cold, nose-runningly cold, face numbingly cold. Now if only my brain had been half as sharp as the weather, then we probably wouldn't have got lost. But distracted by a mad dog and multiple pathways, we ended up deeper in the forest than planned.

In our defence I have to say the Boudicca Way that runs through the forest is pretty poorly signposted, making it all too easy to get lost. This of course, could be handy, should you have an annoying relative that you'd like to "lose" over the Christmas period. A pre-festive walk in the wood could mean a joyeux noel for the rest of the family.

Trust me, you could not lose them in a nicer piece of woodland.

Location:The Street,Lowestoft,United Kingdom

The Strumpshaw Fen Challenge

If this blog is not up to its usual cracking standard then there's a good reason. And that is, we met up with Dan Sullivan on Friday, before going to Strumpshaw Fen on Saturday. For some readers that will explain everything: others may need some clarification.

Friday evening was spent at the Plough, followed by Pizza Express. Not exotic I grant you, but it was fun and one way and another quite a lot of drink got drunk. This included a couple of pints of Grain, an elixir that could possibly bring about world peace. Next up there were pizzas, red wine and something called "Chocolate Glory", an ice cream loosely modelled on the Eiffel Tower. Sue reckoned, just looking at it, could give you heart disease.

Understandably we were a little sluggish Saturday morning. Truth to tell, my head was so anaesthetised you could have knocked a nail in and I would barely have noticed.



One thing I did notice, driving along Low Road towards our destination, was the flooding. Still feeling fuzzy, this did not present a problem. I simply told Sue to drive straight on through.

The plan was to make it to the fen for sunrise. At 7.30 things were looking up; the sky was full of eastern promise and the birds were out practising their formation flying, all to the accompaniment of gunfire: proving once again, that in the countryside, it's never too early to kill some wildlife.

I have to say sunrise was a disappointment, failing to deliver like a few girlfriends I can recall. Not to worry though because I think the early morning adventure did us some good. Particularly enjoyable was a walk through the forest, leading us along a tapestry of fallen, lemon and lime coloured leaves. Unfortunately, after an hour's fresh air we were desperate: desperate for fried food. On reflection Strumpshaw Fen might be best enjoyed with a summer picnic and maybe, a clear head.



Heading back to the car I hatched a plan involving eggs, black pudding, bacon, tomato sauce and tea. I think you can guess how the rest of the day panned out.

Location:The Street,Lowestoft,United Kingdom