July 29, Windsor

Today was the day of must-do walk in Windsor, and I would love to be super excited about this, but it was, in the main, rather tedious. Before starting out in earnest, I did some exploration about town, 

Very hip hip hooray and all that.

Some people will be remembered forever:

I explored the shopping area, which, at 6:00 a.m., the hordes not having yet descended, you can actually see.  And a good thing I dilly-dallied because when I approached the main gate, shortly before 7:00, the Park Warden was just unlocking it. 

 "I thought the park was open 24 hours a day."  He looked at me in horror, "Oh, no.  Why did you think that?" I thought I had read it, but clearly I got that wrong, and he'd be out of a job were I not.  

First there is  The Long Walk.  Look at the professional, touched up photo and now look at mine:

2 1/2 miles of straight-as-an-arrow walking and my audio-book had not downloaded.  Also, not a deer was to be seen in the Deer Park.  I thought I would take a diversion:

Sights en route included:

The Copper Horse.  Wikipedia tells us:

The statue depicts George III on horseback, in the style of a Roman emperor, wearing a laurel wreath and toga, riding without stirrups. The statue is reminiscent of the Equestrian Statue of Marcus Aurelius in Rome.The high stone base also leads to comparisons with the Bronze Horseman, an equestrian statue of Peter the Great unveiled in Saint Petersburg in 1782.

Now that is yichas, or not, depending on how you look at it.

and also:

The base bears the ironic inscription Georgio Tertio / Patri optimo / Georgius Rex, which translates as: 'To George the Third / the best of fathers / King George [IV]'. Like so many father–son relationships in the Hanoverian family, however, George III and George IV were known to have despised one another.

There is nothing like some good family gossip. 

Struck by lightening?

Arborist needed:

The highlight of the day was  Savill Gardens  

They sure know how to acidify the soil:

But only if they want to:

Pinks and purples:

And yellows and oranges:

The gardens have lots of trees:

Goose-Poop-Bridge

A culprit looking cute, indeed:

Yes, I do want my picture taken, which is why I am sitting perfectly still:

Walking down a path, I saw a small bird banging an object over and over on the hard gravel.  A couple, walking in the other direction also stopped to watch. The bird was very persistent.  Bang bang bang!  After a few minutes the people walked toward me and told me that the bird, a thrush, had a snail and was trying to crack open the shell.  I hope it was successful!

Another famous site in The Great Park is the obelisque:

This imposing monument was built in the early 1750s by King George II to honour the military successes of his son, William, Duke of Cumberland. Known to many less favourably as 'Butcher Cumberland', for his brutal treatment of the Scots at Culloden, the Duke was appointed Ranger of Windsor Great Park in 1746. Over the next fourteen years he transformed this landscape, creating Virginia Water, commissioning many buildings and bridges and planting substantial collections of native and exotic trees.

Now there is a father who loves and honors his son, the butcher.

And, finally,  monument wise, there is the 100 ft high  Totem Pole  (worth reading about):

A while after I began the trudge back, I came upon a polo match:

But the game was way on the other side of a huge field, so I could only see the occasional horse gallop by and let me tell you, they gallop at full speed.  After a full out gallop, a horse will be walked off the field:

Plenty of others are in reserve waiting their turn:

I bet it would be fun to really be able to watch a match.  It is one fast game!

Many people were on the Long Walk when I returned in the early afternoon.  

How much of it they walk, I do not know, but doubtless, they are way less critical than I am! It makes me think of the Long Walk of Infamy or something like that. Sections of the Great Park were quite lovely, the Savill Gardens are gorgeous, and the polo was quite fun, so maybe  a 3 star day. There was a lot of trudging in between the good parts, a definite 2 star demerit.

July 28, Marlow to Windsor

 I did not particularly like the Marlow Air B&B, and I am glad it is the last one until London, but it had the virtue of being close to the Thames, so off I went, and wouldn't you know I started walking the wrong way.  There is nothing quite like hearing that sneery, snarky voice's rebuke, "You are heading in the wrong direction."  But, had it not been for her, I would have been like Schlemiel who never made it to Warsaw

There is some pretty impressive real estate along the river.  I wonder who decides what land can and cannot be given over for private use.

The parking lot is full:

But not here:

I name this boat, "Beyond Repair."

Walking under a highway is way preferable to walking across:

In which case you might really need someone to pray for you:

Redwoods?  Not redwoods (Alex Allain)!

Approaching Windsor:

I, however, am staying in Eton, just on the other side of the bridge.  Windsor is big and noisy and has a huge mall and lots going on. Oh, and of course, The Castle is there!   Eton is small, there is less going on, and does not have The Castle

Peeking into a residential court in Eton:

When I was being checked in to my digs here at Gilby's Bar and Grill, the receptionist gave me thorough instructions about the keys to the exterior door.  There are two locks.  The upper lock you turn; for the lower lock you need the long key.  (The other key is for your room.)  It made me think about Clovis and Darling.  And I discovered that not only does the lower lock require a key, the lock is covered by a rotating cap.  For a country that is so fire conscious and safety conscious—windows in many hotels only open a few inches so that God forbid you cannot jump out. An act of defenestration would tarnish the reputation of the hotel.

July 27 Marlow

 I had a circular walk all planned out for today except 1) the weather was iffy, 2) it was difficult to figure out where, exactly, the walk started—OK, so I could have worked a little harder on that  3) where ever that was, it was some distance from where I am. It made me nervous...I did not want to be who-knows-where, eight miles distant in torrential rain, not knowing how tricky the route might be, so I opted for a tamer plan:  do a different circular walk, but as an out-and-back of the first part.  The reason: the "back" part ran along the Thames, and while that would be lovely for someone who is not walking more than 200 miles of Thames, I preferred an inland option.  It was no great shakes of a walk, but it was fine and I got over 17 miles in for the day, which feels like nothing. 

Shortly after starting out, this advert:

Oh, man, when you have been screwed, help is available seven days a week?!  Who knew?!

Too bad that did not apply to my problem of the day:  I realized that I had left my rain pants in Henley.  Now that is a bummer.  So, when walking through some VWG (very wet grass) I pushed down my socks and tightened my gators so tight that they became tourniquets, but it worked. My pants got soaked but my insoles were saved.  Then, when back in Marlow, I went to the local version of REI—it so was not like REI— and bought a new pair, not quite the same quality.  Very on the cheap, but it was all they had.  "What size are you?"  the guy asked.  I wanted to say "XXL," but replied, "What is the smallest you have?"  "An eight."  "I don't know British sizes.  Is that the smallest?"  "No. six is, but we don't have any sixes."  I tried them on; perfect for a reed who is 5'10".  It was those or nothing, so I took them.  They do have one great feature: they are definitely waterproof, which means that you will sweat to death if you have to wear them in hot weather.

As I was walking through an area called the Woodland Trust, I saw a placard:

Many training camps with trench systems were se up in the UK in 1914 and 1915 to teach new army recruits the skills needed to take to the front lines. This site contains the best and most complete set of training trenches left in the UK and plays an important role in recording the history of that time

There are around 1400m of trenches here, dug 2m deep and 2m wide, which were constructed in June 1915 by troops from the Grenadier Guards (4th Battalion) under the command of Colonel Corry, probably with help from other troops and possibly local people. The 'front line' was likely to have been constructed on the west side.

The trenches were extensively surveyed in 2005 by Archaeology in Marlow over a total area of 2.4 hectares (6 acres), when many features such as machine gun posts, fire-bays and forward trenches were identified.

It is really a jolt to realize that these were not always quiet woodlands set aside for the sole purpose of enjoyment.  It was possible to see the remnants of trenches, but they have filled in with leaves and such so they are quite shallow now. 

Some sights in the woods.  

Fungus that looks like shmurah matzah:

Tree down:

Part of a different downed tree repurposed as art:

Sights not in the woods.  

A clump of fat, red berries in the grass:

Red berries on a bush:

Red berries are so happy making!

A yellow-green field:

One thing that cannot be recored are the smells in fields and woods.  Just heavenly.

By and by I came to the turn around point at Humbledon Weir:

I noticed a few people congregating outside the Post Office, which often functions as a General Store.  "Hmmm, maybe I should check that out."  I bought an Almond Magnum (note to self: stick to Classic; the chocolate coating is better).  A jolly looking fat man sitting at a table eating some sort of breakfast pastry, gave me a disapproving snort as I unwrapped the ice cream at 9:30 a.m.  "Didn't anyone tell you," I said to him, "This is the best hiking food there is!"  He laughed and I went on my way back to Marlow.

July 26, Henley to Marlow

Slept until 5:00 today, uncharacteristically late, but was out the door by 5:45.  Got the green light:

and was on my way.

Henley-On-Thames in the early morning:

And a spider web: 

And a lone rower:

Geese contemplating a swim while a mist hangs over the river:

Others crossing the road:

or maybe they are just playing Follow the Leader and the road happens to be there.

THE famous sight in Marlow is the Suspension Bridge.  I have this to say about it.  It kind of sways when you walk across it.

How reassuring is this?

Yes, it refers to that very bridge.

A photo of the bridge snitched from a web site:

No competition for the Golden Gate, IMO. This bridge is, apparently,  a copy of a bridge spanning the Danube linking Buda and Pest. Anyway, the Marlow bridge gets lots of hype; I don't get it!  Trip Advisor puts it in third place of things to see in Marlow, aced out by The Rebellion Beer Company where you can taste to your heart's content and a large park on the Thames. The entire list is pretty desperate except for the beer company.  

Marlow is only a nine mile walk from Henley but is lengthened by a detour due a bridge closure, not the bridge at Marlow, but one about two miles west. The worst part of these diversions is that after the first bold sign indicating no-can-go, there is no signage.  (What I would do without my Outdoors Active app, I do not know.) At a junction not too far along were a couple of men and a truck. I mentioned the bridge and one guy told me that the reason it remains un-repaired is that no one wants to pay for it.  

Nevertheless, arrived in Marlow too early to call it a day, and too early to check into Air B&B.  As I contemplated different options, whom did I run into?

Why it is our very own Steve Redgrave, with his five olympic medals around his neck and a very long oar!

I also saw some splendid sunflowers:

There were a couple of 4 1/2 mile circular walks that seemed just the ticket to fill the gap, but it was 1 1/2 miles to get to the starting point of either one, so added up: 10 already done,  + 4 1/2 + 1 1/2 +1 1/2 then 1 1/4 to get to the Air B&B + 1 more to get to the grocery store from the Air B&B + another 1 to get from the grocery store back, and we are talking maybe too much mileage, so I decided to walk along the Thames to the diversion and back.  

It was a pretty hum drum walk the river not being in view for most of it. Perking things up, near the detour, a glimpse of sailboating class:

Back in town, I headed over to the Air B&B, in a subdivision about a mile from where it's happening.  I was already at odds with the owner for reasons too petty to recount.  The place itself is OK: spare, budget-level, a bed, a bathroom, and a kitchenette. It has good wi-fi and lighting, I'll grant it that, but I do not see toaster.  I check the listing.  Yup, there is supposed to be a toaster.  I send a message.  I do not say, "Where the hell is the damn toaster?"  I say, "Gee, I cannot find the toaster."  "There isn't one."  "Oh, that's too bad.  The listing says there is a toaster."  "Well, no one has ever asked about that before.  Use the broil setting on the oven."  I look at the oven.  It has icons I have never seen before, but I figure it out, and in the morning, I have toast!