CYHA NEWS

ALL THE FUN OF THE FLOODS

Rain certainly seems to have been something of a theme for the year so far. Most of us have had the fun of wading or driving through floodwater at some point in the last couple of months. Needless to say it was not without some trepidation that we headed off to the Chilterns with a gloomy forecast and the knowledge that Streatley wasn't so much on Thames as in it. However fortune smiled upon us, for Saturday at least, giving us golden sunshine and blue skies - perfect for a walk on the Ridgeway. Of course the weeks of constant rain had taken their toll: the start of our walk had to be diverted to avoid the wading that would have been necessary if we'd followed the Thames Path, and there was certainly plenty of mud about. There's just something about the mud you get on the Ridgeway, that certain mix of chalk and heavy clay that sticks in huge clods to your boots making your feet feel leaden. Who needs aerobics with leg weights when you can go for a muddy walk in the Chilterns instead!?

After a hasty lunch in a hedgerow, we legged it down to the Bell Inn in Hungerford Green for a well earned pint. Trudi had already been installed by the fire for about an hour talking terriers with the locals and sampling the soup of the day. After a leisurely drink (or two!) we gathered our number and completed the loop back to Streatley - some in time for tea and cakes, the others diverting over Lough Down for panoramic views of the Thames valley and it's flooding. A thoroughly splendid day.

Indoor Rainforest... and other nonsense!

Having enjoyed spring like conditions for a walk along the Ridgeway on Saturday, Sunday brought rather wetter weather. But never mind: someone suggested a visit to Wyld Court, a large greenhouse made out to be like a tropical rainforest. According to the pamphlet this place had Belizean connections, and this was of interest to me as I'd gone to Belize last November, and had visited some of the rainforests.

Having paid reduced entry for being a YHA member I walked round the greenhouse, admiring and recognising some of the plants and flowers from my time in Central America. I concluded that the owners had done a good job: it was an authentic rainforest, even down to the pouring rain. For it had rained on me in Belize too. The only difference was that at Wyld Court I didn't get wet!

Marion

The Canal Walk that Never Was

For the first time in ten years our traditional February walk from Heybridge to Chelmsford had to be abandoned due to the flooding. All was not lost though, as we descended instead on the small village of Salcott and walked a picturesque loop including sea wall, saltmarsh and shingle. As usual the sea wall area was liberally sprinkled with all sorts of rubbish and Liam ended up tugging a huge buoy behind him like a ball-and-chain for a few miles. The deceptive crinkliness of the coast line meant something of a sprint towards the end to get to the pub before they stopped serving lunch, but it was well worth it as the food was superb. After much quaffing and lip-smacking we eventually hauled our stiffened bodies out of the pub, only for George to declare that someone had stolen his socks from out of his wellies! After a brief search the said socks were discovered safely on the end of George's feet, much to the amusement of the rest of us!

Luckily the long walk in the morning left us with only a couple of miles left to do after lunch, which judging by the state of us was probably just as well. The whole thing was rounded off by a spectacular sunset as we were driving back to Chelmsford.

Ali

Damp Dunmow Walk

On a wet, chilly Sunday in January, despite 17 people having expressed interest before they saw the weather forecast, I didn't really expect them to turn up at the car park in Great Dunmow. Amazingly within a few minutes there were 13 of us assembled. Including Elaine who was had joined us as part of her training for a charity walk along the Great Wall of China!

As we set out the rain turned into sleet, and it seemed like we were going to have a seriously horrible day. But we persevered, and eventually it stopped and we dried out. A short section by the river Chelmer (mercifully between floods), led us to the Stag at Little Easton, a small pub where they had reserved a table for 17 small and slender people. With some difficulty we squeezed into the available space and enjoyed some lunch. The owners of the Dunmow teashop were winding down after a quiet Sunday afternoon, and were rather taken by surprise when 13 soggy walkers appeared, but we all got our tea and cakes which rounded off the day nicely.

Dave

See also Gerry's account of his Trip to Venezuela

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