Last weekend, Julian and I caught a train up to Bradford-on-Avon to spend the weekend with Anne and Fred. Knowing Anne, we suspected that it would be a weekend of walking around this historic village, seeing lots of sights and enjoying the countryside. The fact that Bradford-on-Avon was flooded hardly seemed to phase the epic walker; I can distinctly remember the moment that our ‘stroll’ became an ‘adventure’. I even took a picture of it.
Okay, so the main walking path was flooded… what else could we do? Turn back? Not likely. We just kept searching for ‘higher ground’, whether that be getting bogged in flooded cow paddocks, attempting to climb up steep and slippery forests by hoisting yourself up with rotting tree branches, or sneaking through people’s private estates.
To Anne’s credit, she did get us back to our B&B safe and sound, and we did get to see some lovely places. Our idea of what makes a good walk may never be the same again.
S
