Wednesday, 18 January 2012

Day 75: Free-Range Countryside

The privilege of starting a day by walking up the chalk-scattered rise of Hambledon Hill.  Sculptured Iron Age earthworks on a massive scale, and the most dramatic three hundred and sixty degree views.  It's a wild, ancient, vital place and I feel small and temporary.  We plan to spend a night up here at Midsummer.  A tent, and a lamp and the simple wish to absorb the atmosphere of a place that has held such power for so many centuries. 


Then to my job - in the confines of Longleat Center Parcs.  I've had no reason to go to Center Parcs before.  Weird.  A Stepford Wives version of woodland.  It smells correct - all foresty, damp and coniferous.  But so manicured.  Paths and rustic railings, and lights and chalets, and specially laid-out cycle trails.  I get the point.  It's rural-made-easy.  But it's not for me.



Ready countryside, like ready meals.  Quick, convenient, and ultimately unsatisfying.  No.

Hambledon Hill.  Hambledon Hill.  Hambledon Hill.

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