A larger than usual group assembled in a car park in Nunney for an Autumnal walk. The great news was that our party was now covered not only by Dan Bull’s expertise as a veteran leader of Sexey’s ACF, but even more reassuringly by the presence of Pete Prescott experienced in helicopters , medivac etc who would be able to call in Somerset Air Ambulance if required. Nunney is famous for its castle ruins which we didn’t look at. We brought our own physical wrecks. We set off at a brisk pace with several dogs blundering about – except for Bill who prefers to keep close to Trevor in case he drives off home without him. Jack Bull not only kept pace with the adults but also spoke without pausing for breath on various topics over the first mile or so.
We were following a path out of Nunney village through a wooded valley which I reckon will be carpeted in bluebells and other wild flowers in their season. The Nunney Brook flows here and as we strolled alongside the picturesque stream it grew in size and strength. The dogs crossed the river several times and we insisted they rejoin us…until we reached the point where the brook had grown too big to cross over. Only when we reached a nine foot brick barrier to progress did we realise the dogs as usual were more clued up than the humans. We found a means of scrambling out of the impasse which tested the group almost to destruction – but this struggle probably provided the best exercise of the day.
We broke out of the woods into open fields and our pace quickened. If you wonder what we talk about on these treks, I will give you an example which means you will never ask again. Dan was imminently setting off overseas so had cleared his house of loads of rubbish including some old fashioned night storage radiators which had proved hard to dispose of even at the official dump/recycling centre. Correct paperwork etc needs to be produced…this led onto a general discussion about waste disposal sites locally, the varying facilities and policies prevaling , the attitude of various staff members and the likelihood that the whole recycling racket is actually a ruse by which large sums of money are paid for all this stuff to be dumped on a beach in Malaysia.
As we crossed a second , third or fifth field Dave decided that we needed to take a diversion to a road which would lead more rapidly back to the cars. I cannot remember why. Half the group continued on the originally planned route. We joined Donkey Lane as it descended into Nunney past a pleasant duck pond and the ancient George Hotel, classic 17th century coaching inn and so to the Moat and Turret café for bacon rolls and steaming cuppas to revive the party. This was to be our last walk for a while with the Bulls but we are assured they are acting as our overseas branch in Peru. (Hope they don’t need a night storage radiator).
