We were already to go except for one minor item—fuel for the stove. We had tried to buy some last night, but arrived at the store at 6:58. Online, they said they were open until 8, in person 6:56. We decided to be back this morning when they reopened at 9. At 8:58, no sign of movement. At 9:05, still all quiet. There was another store just a block down so we went there. They had fuel, but not the kind we wanted.
Back to Blacks for another try. At 9:25 a guy showed up and said he’d been waiting around the corner for 2 hours but no one had shown. European customer service makes you appreciate American customer service. American stores generally open at the posted times on the door. We got the fuel, but we were 45 minutes behind schedule. Our train to Winchester is at 12:05. We should still make it without problem, but 45 minutes of my cushion was gone. If something else goes wrong, I could fall into a panic attack. The older I get, the worse I am with time constraints.
Fortunately, everything else went smooth with checking out, catching the tube, switching trains, and finding the National Rail Station. We were early enough that our train hadn’t even made the monitor. Like para mutual betting addicts, we took seats on the second floor across from the monitor and took turns watching the board like hawks. We finally had a track number 25 minutes before departure and knowledge of where to sit. One last set of bladder evacuations and we were a go.
The rail system doesn’t follow the same mentality of retail. We pulled out a full minute ahead of schedule. My paranoia about being late paid off. If we would have been on time, we’d have missed the train.
Bunny was so comforted by my anxiety that she slept most of the hour train ride to Winchester. While she snoozed peacefully, Bear and I discussed the proper time to retrieve our packs so we would have a worry free exit from the train. Bear tried to convince me when the train started slowing down, we’d have time to get our packs and navigate to the end of the car. It was too close for me. As soon as the train pulled out from the prior stop to ours, i woke Bunny up, got our packs down, and stood by the door ensuring we’d be first off. This gave us ample time to study the rail maps of Southwest England. Ask me anything.
Another benefit of getting older and paranoid is loss of appetite under stress. I couldn’t eat any breakfast this morning. By the time we started walking into town from the train station, I was pretty hungry now that all the stress was gone. Sassy saw a Nepal/Indian restaurant about 2 minutes from the station. I have been suggesting Indian every meal since we landed and I finally wore everyone down.
As I expected, the food was excellent. I’m not a fan of colonialism, even though we have all benefited from the practice, but I am so thankful that the English brought so many Indians into Great Britain. English/Scottish/Irish food is not the most appealing…chopped organ meat in sheep stomach (haggis), blood pudding, spotted dick (whatever the hell that is—not going in my mouth unless I’m in prison). The Indian people have really classed up the foods in the former empire.
I asked the owner about a picture on the wall because I recognized the mountain from my trip to Nepal. He was from the area by the mountain so we started talking about the towns around there. He is in the process of building a B&B in Pokhara. He’s trying to talk his family into spending 6 months in England and 6 months in Nepal every year. His kids don’t want to—they are English born and don’t appreciate the opportunity they have.
Next up was to visit the Winchester Cathedral. When we made it downtown, there was a festival going on. Different groups were performing in the streets and people were out enjoying the beautiful day. This is exactly the type of place we’re looking for…small city with lots of amenities, vibrant, and over 2000 years of history as a bonus.
Bear and Sassy are staying in a pub tonight where we’re planning on hiking out of town a few miles. We went to drop our packs in their room so we could tour the cathedral in comfort. I have new impressions of them as people. We are hiking with a couple of bourgeoisies.
They have decided to hire a service on this trip that will carry their luggage from sleeping spot to sleeping spot. The company has planned them a daily itinerary and booked all their lodgings. The place they are staying tonight is nicer than any place we’ve stayed in Europe (we usually opt for hostels, or low priced albergues, or sleep in a tent. Bear and Sassy are going first class.
We are completely outclassed. I think there might have been a misunderstanding on this trip. We thought we were hiking with a couple we met on the AT. They thought we were coming along as servants. I don’t know anything about being a valet other than what I’ve seen on Downton Abbey.
Winchester Abbey is over 1500 years old. It has the distinction of having the longest nave in cathedrals of the period. The original structure was built on an existing crypt, so who knows how many dead bodies are there. I’m willing to bet more than are under the Meadowlands. The most famous stiff in the pack is none other than Jane Austen, the famous writer of Victorian Romance where everyone ends up happily married.
It is an impressive structure in, and of, itself. But it’s role in history is even more impressive. This was a major seat of power for the Saxon’s and was a prosperous cloister which operated from the early 900s until, Henry VIII being a spoiled brat, brought it all to an end. “Waa, waa, waa, the church won’t let me kill my wives so I’ll destroy the church.” Very similar to “Waa, waa, waa, the court won’t let me declare myself king, so I’ll destroy the country.” Spoiled rich pricks ruin everything.
We toyed with the idea of camping in town, but we couldn’t find a safe spot. All these “no camping allowed” signs around the area were a buzz kill. About 5:30, we decided to move on. I made arrangements with the hotel staff to have a valet for Bear and to turn down their beds while they partook of supper. It’s the best I could do on short notice.
We looked for an official start to the South Downs Way, but missed it. We just headed on out of town past the statue of King Alfred. King Alfred was way ahead of his time…1200 years and counting. He had the hair brained notion that leaders should govern for the benefit of their people and not just for themselves. He established education systems trying to empower his people. This was the Dark Ages. That heresy has not been attempted again since.
An old mill exists on what used to be the edge of town. Today, it provides a serene path along the river with beautiful parks and high dollar housing. None of the residents see the irony in the fact that they are living in the Alms Houses of the Abbey and charging well over a million pounds for the privilege.
A couple miles out of Winchester is another quaint village named Chilcomb. There’s an even older church there that predates the cathedral, but it’s more than 1/4 mile off trail, and, to be honest, I’m still a bit churched out from the Camino the last time we came to Europe.
Bunny and I walked a bit further than we planned this evening, but we wanted to get away from people and traffic. We ended up on top of the first decent climb out of town where we could find a flat spot to camp. We are only 10’ off the trail and not well hidden (as we are in a grassy spot without trees. Hopefully no one attempts to wake us up and make us move tonight. Bunny is very tired, sore, and cranky. I pity the fool that tries to wake her. Lord knows I won’t attempt it in the morning.
EFG
