After my alarm went off, it had taken me 45 minutes to get myself properly conscious, and I forgot exactly when I moved this morning; Mum had been striding round (in her usual way when there’s a visitor in the house); there was conversation about tomato ketchup (though that was not a substance available) at the breakfast table; then I layered myself up a bit more, and once seated in my chair I was jumped on by Soot the 20 year old cat and purring started up.

I forgot when I extracted myself and had to grab my bag, and when the car moved – it was 14’C at 11.23am. A red van I spotted had the number plate CAR 60N while on the very very bumpy road past a local watermill (it’s a really ancient one – thought to have been built in 1807); the village of Sherborne was passed through, horses were grazing in a field near to a farmhouse, another couple of horses were being ridden further along the road (which Google Maps said was a bit of the National Cycle Route) followed by a group of serious cyclists dressed entirely in lycra.

We got to Charlecote Park (a National Trust property since 1946 – covering 185 acres – that got built in 1558) at 11.49am; in the reception hut were Pooch Passports and dog snoods, and the Vile Vegetable Trail was being advertised; across the road were mole hills all over the grass, oak deadwood, well camouflaged deer sat down amidst the trees, ducks floating on the river, a spaniel yanking his or her owner along the path, a big white Labradoodle doing a poo, and sheep were grazing. A couple of propeller planes were making noises (Uncle suggested they were farmers fleeing the country), and a fluffy white dog of some sort had a fluorescent orange onesie on….

Mum caused some giggling at a gate by telling a couple of passers by that she was the toll lady; a woman wearing a badge saying ‘Information Host’ on was holding an antler and told a couple of people about a dog on a lead; then the courtyard area at the back of the house was passed through, and some grassy paths (passing Granny’s summer house) led to the cafe place at 12.30pm.

It was very crowded in there – so we ended up sat outside (and I wasn’t very hungry), my phone didn’t want to tell me the temperatures, propeller planes (they take off from a little nearby airfield that was an operational training base during World War 2 and is still being used) were making loud noises overhead, and 2 dogs were seated on waterproof blankets that had been unrolled next to a nearby table – where a man was sat with a mobility scooter. A pasty was put in front of me, the poll tax, the Tottenham riots, solitary confinement and its rules, and a couple more things I forgot were subjects during the conversation; one of the dogs had begun using the man’s boot as a pillow, strange farting noises were coming from the other side of a nearby hedge – and when I peered round I saw a big white Labradoodle stood by another table; and a large bloke wearing clothing similar to a sack was seated inside. I forgot when we moved again; and at 1.20pm – in the second hand bookshop – were (among the mass of others) books titled Build A Dolls House, The Oxford Companion to English Literature – Drabble (and when I later checked – ‘Drabble’ was actually the name of the author (Margaret Drabble) and nothing to do with its content), The Art of Arranging Flowers, and The Little Monster Did It.

We continued, passing a sign about zombie veg; bowling pins and plastic wheelbarrows were on the grass near the Old Kitchen and briefly entertaining children; then we went over a bridge, passing a deer sanctuary (where deer were curled up and looking very relaxed), and continuing round paths with very knobbly partially disintegrated trees I spotted a leaf dangling by a cobweb. Mum got interested by a lump of poo and a big tree; another couple of groups of deer weren’t far from the path; and at 1.55pm, an avenue of partially bald of leaves but very hairy trees was reached.

She tried to commentate on our progress and picked up some very thin branches, deer were grazing in their sanctuary, we crossed a bridge crossed earlier – and wheelbarrow racing was going on by then; and in the Wood Yard area at 2.17pm was a woman wearing a puffa jacket vest. A carrot and walnut muffin sort of thing got consumed by Mum in there (Uncle had millionaires shortbread), and we wondered about the Conservative leadership contest going on today, so I got out my phone, connected to the Wi-Fi and discovered Kemi Badenoch had won it. Empire Day being celebrated in his childhood was mentioned (it was done on 24^th May – nowadays its Commonwealth Day – done on the second Monday in March), I noticed pumpkin spiced lattes on the menu, was told Uncle eats 6 spoons of tomato ketchup per day, and it was approaching 3pm when we moved again. A tree lined avenue next to the main driveway was headed down, a deer grazing on the other side of the river (which had a couple of swans on it) decided to gallop across the drive…

…it was feeling chilly; Mum was holding a bundle of twigs (to use for kindling on the fire once home again) when we got back to the car at 3.12pm (and the car said it was 14°C); then it was a slow moving queue we got stuck in, and a massive Scholastic warehouse next to a really big roundabout were what I documented on the trip home – reached at 3.38pm.