Last night at Fox Hil Farml it was like South Fork. A huge modern house, rows of stables, classy horses in fields surrounding the place, and shiny 4 x 4s parked up. I reckon my room had more area than the ground plan of my own abode at Arnside.
Everything was to a high standard, but the lady was so busy attending to paperwork in her office, scooting back and forth to the stables and speaking to people who I presume were clients whose horses they stable that chatting to me was a long way down the list - she was an archetypal multi-tasker.
A son ran me to the pub which turned out to be nouvelle cuisine, and whilst the food was delicious it was hardly the fare for a hungry walker. There was a phone mix up to summon my hosts to pick me up and a gent at the bar offered to ferry me back. He turned out to be an apparently wealthy farmer owning the farm next to Fox Hill as well as the pub I was eating in and he took me back in his grand Range Rover.
Highlights of today were horse trashed footpaths, a baby badger crossing my path a few feet away before I could bring camera to bear, and a fox crossing the path fifteen yards ahead.
I am now at The Castle Inn at Edgehill, site of the first battle of the Civil War. My bedroom is atop the tower with as extensive a view as I have seen anywhere on this clear sunny evening.
What horses do to footpaths
This young lady is fording the infant R. Cherwell which flows to Oxford and the Thames. We had a pleasant chat. She blamed THE HUNT for the footpaths. I reckon the hunts are carrying on as before - everybody is happy, the antis have got their legislation and the hunters are just ignoring it.
WW2 emplacement. There was a Battle of Britain airfield near here.
This guy markets, guess what - artificial grass.
17/18th century manor house at Ratley.
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