Since Eve and Walter showed me and Mort round the Clent Hills, I’ve been on a one-woman campaign to drag Dan there. My subtle hints weren’t getting through, so on Sunday morning I informed Dan that if he took us there, I would buy him a sausage sandwich. That seemed to do the trick.
The views from the top of the hills are breathtaking. Even more so when the weather is beautiful and you’re rewarded for your walking efforts with a cold cup of cider. Great British countryside at its best.
And I don’t think I will be dragging Dan there next time. The epic sausage and bacon sandwiches are now a siren call to him – I’m pretty certain we will be heading back sooner rather than later.
As for the four-legged member of our crew, I think he enjoyed himself. He spent the entire time running around with a manic expression on his face, before collapsing on my lap at the pub, slowly baking me with his hot belly. Note to self: don’t put a Dachshund on your lap when it’s warm. Like a sauna – but not relaxing. At all.
Here are some pictures from our trip – in case you’re confused, the ball of fire in the sky is the sun. I panicked too – I’d forgotten what it looked like. And look out for my Byker Grove style jump. I’ve been trying to perfect that for years.