Saturday, March 21, 2009
Once again I'm on a hilltop, this time higher and more distant from the city centre. It might be easier to imagine this as a Saxon hillfort if there weren't five black-clad teenagers blaring out mid 80s soft metal classics from a picnic blanket nearby. Behind me is an illusory chalkland ridge, beyond which an unloved dual carriageway cowers in a deep cutting. And laid out before me across the valley is everywhere else I've been today, including the retirement home who gave me a free lunch of bread and ale. Now to walk back down through the water meadows past budding trees and courting ducks, then back to the station with Spring in my step. Bet you're Itchen to know where I am...
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