I'm sitting in my sleeping bag, on a broken garden chair, in a field at the foot of Chanctanbury Hill reflecting on a tough but incredibly rewarding days walking.
Before I left Naomi said she hoped I'd have lots of "moments". I knew exactly what she meant and I really have. I've had moments with people. Breakfast with a fellow walker. A mum of two who hadn't done much walking but wanted to do something different. An old and dear friend Gordon who abandoned his work for the day to come and join me. He cycled out searching for me and found me at Houghton where we continued on together until he had to shoot back to collect his son.
Another moment was spent watching a Red Kite acrobatically diving and soaring as if an expert power kite flyer was at the other end of two strings attached to the bird. Another was in the porta-shower on the campsite in which I went from cursing it as I braced myself for an ice cold shower to declaring my undying love for it as the piping hot water came through.
The reality is there have been so many moments. Some of shear joy and euphoria others of wonder and a few of pain. I wonder, what will they all add up to.
Tomorrow is another long day - 30k this time. I hope my feet and legs can take it!
Respect! Big time! My 8-mile preamble on Sunday pales in insignificance alongside. But roll on Monday when my bro and I tackle the West to East leg of the South Downs Way from Winchester. Nothing as ambitious as you - but then we plan to enjoy the sherberts at the pub each night. Weather looks to only get better which is always a bonus.
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