Someday all this will be road
We had an inkling in the back of our mind to tempt our house guests into stretching their legs on the Thurgoland Boundary walk, but a combination of praising Bacchus on Sunday night followed by play house sentry duty to appease anxious mothers meant that it was dawn when i got to bed.
By the time i was lured down the stairs by the delicate aroma of bacon sandwiches this morning, our chance had gone...
"Hoorah" shout the house guests.
"Boo" shout we, in croaky voices.
All is not lost however, and an afternoon Crane Moor ramble, which involved stumbling over a number of sheep carcasses (not blipped as Mrs R felt it distasteful!) followed by rounders, British Bulldog, and a game of frisbee football is enough to exhaust the visitors, and whilst not a boundary walk, reached the limits of their endurance.