Previously, on The Chronicles of Stonehenge: Our intrepid heroes walked to Stonehenge - and it was kind of underwhelming. They crossed over the motorway, stopped to take some completely free photos, and went on their merry way.
And now, the thrilling* conclusion...
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Pop quiz: How long do you think 14 miles is? You're wrong. It's longer. (Unless your answer was "14 miles" or "22.5 kilometers", in which case you are technically correct, smartass.) It's also the distance from Stonehenge to Salisbury Cathedral, which we were in Salisbury specifically for the purposes of walking.
Part 1: Lunch
We picked up some sandwiches at Tesco before we left Salisbury in the morning. Because we're hardcore like that. So, a few minutes off the motorway and a few minutes after 1pm, we found a park bench by the side of a street, just begging us to stop and eat our lunch on it. Being the compassionate souls that we are, who were we to deny this lonely bench what could be its sole human contact that day? Surely, the only humane thing we could do was stop and eat. So eat we did.
Part 2: We enter the land of the lost
We finished our lunch, stood up, and surveyed our surroundings. We were apparently on the outskirts of a dot-on-the-map town, which seemed to consist of a pub, 2 houses and the bench we were, until a moment ago, sitting on. All of it was bisected by a single road heading left and right, and we knew this road was the path we had to take. Of course it was our path. It had to be our path. Why else would they put a road here if it wasn't for us?
I eventually decided that we should turn left, largely through the highly scientific process of "eenie meenie minie moe". As luck would have it, I was proven to have totally known what I was doing the entire time. About 3 metres down the road, we found a sign, proudly and boldly proclaiming "Salisbury - 10 miles". (Pay attention, reader - this is what we call foreshadowing.) And so we set off, hiking jauntily down the side of the road, moving over whenever a car came past - which wasn't often, believe me.
Our journey carried on like this for about an hour, and that's when we started getting concerned. According to my infallible, pigeon-like sense of direction (shut up, Tash!), we'd slowly been taking right turns, until we were facing back the same way we came. Furthermore, we hadn't seen a single sign since the first one that told us we were heading the right way. We wracked our brains, but we were sure that we hadn't passed a turn-off or side street anywhere - how could we have gotten so lost without noticing it?
(Yes, I know "without noticing" is generally a pre-requisite for getting lost. Shut up, Tash!)
During the next few minutes, an extraordinary change came over the landscape. "Quiet" suddenly became "empty". "Peaceful" suddenly became "desolate". "Off the beaten track" suddenly became "Oh dear god we're going to die out here in the middle of nowhere!!"
After we managed to calm down Tash's (okay, my) freakout, I (okay, Tash) had an awesome idea - Tash's phone has a GPS! We turned off the main road, down a small side street, and pulled out our newly-remembered lifeline. The moments crawled by as we waited for the phone to connect to the internet, then to connect to a satellite, then to find our location, then to calculate our route. The way onward appeared, and - huh. According to the map, we had turned off the right road so that we could pull our phone out. It didn't sound right to me, but we continued on the road for another 5 metres, and there it was. "Salisbury - 8 miles". Carved in stone decades ago, it nonetheless felt like it was there only to taunt us - like the road itself was mocking our lack of faith.
Part 3: The wrath of the rain god
Knowing that we were indeed heading in the right direction put a spring back in our step, and before too long we'd passed through a small town, and were staring down from the side of the road at the mighty river Avon. Here it was - the river that marked our course back to Salisbury. According to everyone that we'd spoken to, all we needed to do was make our way down to the bank, and there we'd find a boardwalk which would take us down the next 4 miles in beautiful scenery.
Unfortunately, there was no boardwalk in sight. Perplexed, we came to the conclusion that, maybe we just weren't far enough along the river. After all, the road followed the river around a bend and out of sight - perhaps the boardwalk just started further downstream than we'd been led to believe. So we continued walking, keeping our ever-watchful eyes out for the path that would take us home. And it wasn't there.
Finally, we reached a fork in our path. The road and the river diverged, and while we knew which one we were supposed to take, there was absolutely no sign of how we were meant to do it. We stopped for a minute, and that's when Tash saw the boardwalk. Yeah, remember all that capital-R Rain that I mentioned in the previous post? Well, it turned out that Ambisagrus had one final joke in store for us - the Avon was flooded, and the boardwalk was under about 3 feet of water.
Well, this sucked. We could keep following the road and it would get us to Salisbury, but it would add a good chunk of time to our journey. However, needs must when the devil drives, and in this case, a particularly watery devil was driving us straight up the road.
Part 4: The quest for the perfect stick
I don't want to sound like I'm complaining too much. After all, the walk wasn't particularly hard. Since we couldn't take the scenic route, the entire way was paved, and while there were a few hills to negotiate, there was nothing too challenging or exhausting about the road.
It was just long. So, so long.
I don't know about you, dear reader, but personally, after I've been walking with someone for the better part of an entire day, sooner or later, we start to run out of things to talk about. For Tash and I, that happened at about the 4-hour mark, when we still had a good 4 miles to go. Luckily for us, Tash's phone came to the rescue yet again, this time in the form of a micro SD card filled with music.
And so we walked, music blaring, singing at the top of our lungs - and weathering some very confused looks from the few locals we passed. It was awesome. In fact, we were having such a good time that, as soon as the road started to cut through a forest, I automatically lent down and grabbed a branch from the ground to use as a microphone/baton/dance partner. We walked and danced and sang like idiots for a few minutes, before my new wooden friend inspired the same thought in both of us, almost simultaneously: Walking sticks!
Thus began what I like to refer to as the Goldilocks effect. You know the one. "No, this stick is too short!" "This one is too long!" This one is too... covered in gross slimy moss!" As we walked, we left the roadside behind us littered with sticks and branches. Okay, so it was already littered with sticks and branches, but some of them were in a slightly different place than before!
At long last, Tash found her Baby Bear - the one stick that was just right. Straight, strong, just the right length - my jealousy knew no bounds. Sadly, dear reader, my own Baby Bear stayed forever out of my reach, and for the rest of the walk, I was constantly picking up, rejecting and discarding sticks like a...
... thing that picks up and discards stuff. Shut up, I can't think of an analogy. We've been on this walk for like 6 hours now.
We've got to be getting close? ...right?
Part 5: The home stretch
It's starting to get dark. Our breathing is getting laboured. Our feet hurt. And yet, we're still walking through a road in the forest. There is no end in sight. It's been ages since we last saw a car. Through the exhaustion, that familiar feeling starts to creep back - "are we lost?" Thankfully, like before, our (my) fears are proven unfounded just as the panic is starting to set in. As we round a corner and reach the top of a small hill, we see a steeple rising out of the middle distance. No, not a steeple - a spire. A spire like the one on Salisbury cathedral! We're almost there!
Fast forward another 40 minutes, and we're just reaching the outskirts of Salisbury town. Exhaustion is setting in fast, and it's doing some weird things to our brains. The battery on our music player long since depleted, we derive a good 10 minutes of entertainment trying to read the enormous words on the side of a building - 15 metres away. Yeah, we weren't doing so good.
(It said "Aquatic, Health and Leisure Centre". I know you were curious.)
Every step seems to take longer than the last. The rain god has taken pity on us and given us clear skies for our final stretch, but the heavens still have one last cruel irony in store for us. We're on the path to the cathedral - we can see it in front of us - when we notice just how familiar our surroundings seem. Admittedly, this may not mean much - after all, Salisbury's a small town, and it's possible we've come this way before.
And that's when we realise it - we have come this way before. That very morning, in fact. After a full 8 hours of walking, plagued by sore feet, sore legs and an almost catatonic level of exhaustion, we've finally reached the inn where we're staying. We've reached a nice hot meal, a cold drink and a soft bed - and we have to walk past it to get to our goal.
Even though it almost brings me to tears, we push on, and a few short-but-long minutes later, we reach the cathedral grounds. And lo and behold, one of the priests is standing outside the door, as if to greet us. That's so nice of him, but how did he know we were coming? Wait... what's he doing with that gate? Why is he closing it???
Seriously? We've tried so hard, come so far, and in the end, we didn't even make it to the cathedral door? Thankfully, he only pulled the gate half-closed before retreating into the door, so, in a fit of exhausted delirium, we hurried up to the gate. An awed hush came over us as we reached out and touched the door of the cathedral, finishing our walk in the most clear and concrete way we could.
Then the priest opened the door and we ran away, giggling like schoolgirls.
Part 6: Epilogue
As we made our way back up into the town, there were only 2 things on our minds - food, and bed.
There was plenty of food for us to choose from - the only question was what did we want to eat? No sooner had the question passed my lips when a sign came to us from on high - a glowing neon sign that read, "All-you-can-eat pizza buffet!" Sold!
When we finally stumbled back out onto the street, full of pride, satisfaction and mozzarella, we were beyond ready for bed. We'd walked a total of around 18 miles (29 km) during the day, our shoes were uncomfortable, our feet were sore, our legs were exhausted - but we were happy. We'd set out to walk from Stonehenge to Salisbury cathedral, and we'd done it. Pain is temporary, but the satisfaction of achievement will stay with us forever. Years from now, we'll be able to look back on this time, and it will be magnificent - and in the mean time, we'll just take it easy for the next day or two, sleep in and not do much.
...what's that? We've have to be up early tomorrow, walk to the bus station and jump on a cramped bus to Bath?
Goddammit.
Thanks for reading. If you liked the article and want to see more like it – let us know down in the comments. If you want to follow along with us - you can subscribe to our email feed down below, and be sure to check us out on facebook or follow us on twitter.
If the pretty pictures caught your eye and you would like to see more travel photography hop on over to flickr or for our daily oddities check out our instagram feed.
As always – Don’t Forget To Be Awesome!
No comments:
Post a Comment