The Leicestershire Round

22nd August 2006

(Fleckney) - Shearsby - Bruntingthorpe - Peatling Magna - Willougby Waterleys - Dunton Bassett (11.5 miles)

Early Start

I fought my way out of my duvet to get to Fleckney for an early start. I thought I had a huge distance to cover today, but I misread the map and realised that it was going to be a normal walking length. I could have stayed that extra hour in bed after all...

The Wilds

The footpath along the back of Fleckney is an adventerous one, overgrown with weeds. I was, however, prepared and took along my secateurs. The rose on the left totally covered the path before I came to it. Now, people can pass freely. People of Fleckney, you are now free of your tangled path. I shall expect a plaque erected in my name at some point...

Out For The Count

Having found the post to begin my walk again (which told me to go in the wrong direction - back towards Fleckney again!), I set off to go soon past this herd of cows. Now, I always thought that cows slept on their folded legs, but this one has totally proven me otherwise. Doesn't life look pretty when it sleeps?

I am sure you are all wondering who this mystery person is who brings this site to you. Well, even if you're not, here is the latest photographic evidence we have of this person. If you see a person with a UFO shaped head, a large square hand and a giant wide sausage for a body, that's the person you're looking for! You learnt about this first from the SonicMattC site...

Breakfast!

Having got up so early today, I was feeling a bit peckish. These mushrooms (and I saw many of these on my walk) made me wish I had brought a frying pan, stove and a knob of butter with me, perhaps with a twist of freshly grated pepper and possibly even a clove of garlic. I hadn't. The mushrooms stayed there. The flies enjoyed them.

Benches are always welcome rest places for weary travellers such as myself. This bench was given by the friends of Ron, who is still thought of today with great fondness, judging by the flowers which were left by the bench.

Another attractive site from Leicestershire villages - thatched cottages in Shearsby. A nice house in a quite area - it made me think about the idea that I should be looking around for a house of my own at some point. I think these houses are just out of my range though...

Although Autumn has not officially arrived (I shall bare my teeth and keep it at bay) there are many berries and a few leaves that are already turning into their autumnal colours. The contrast of riped Hawthorn haws (the berries) and the still green leaves is very striking.

From afar, perhaps this tree on the way to Bruntingthorpe does not look so bad. Given the fact that autumn is just around the corner, its brownness could look normal. But not is as it seems...

On closer inspection, the prematurely browned leaves look as though they have been under attack. But what was the beastie (although I suspect that there was more than one - how may accomplices did the perpetrator have?) that unleashed this savage attack?

Who needs nice thatched cottages like the ones I saw in Shearsby? This building here, just one form the savaged willow, is surely big enough for little me? Ok, so the roof needs a bit of attention and the draught-proofing will need to be done, but it could very well fall within my price range. It's in a lovely quiet spot too...

Bruntingthorpe is another example of a pretty village with no altercations as I walked through. The builders of this barn (now converted) had a visible way of recording the date of their work - set in to the wall, reading 1716.

At first hidden by the nettels, I uncovered a huge puff-ball fungus outside of Bruntingthorpe. When young, these are edible and, as I am told, delicious. I lightly tapped its outside shell (being careful not to bruise it) and felt the solidness of the ball, shaking as the aftershock returned to my hand.

The young calves of spring have turned into the teenagers of the late summer, with attitudes to boot. I wasn't totally sure what this cow would do, but after a long staring match, it decided to return to chewing grass.

This gall on the thistle, called a Thistle Gall (any clues as to where the name came from?) is caused by another wasp, whose eggs cause the plant to grow in a strange way and grow as house for the larvae of the wasp. We were certainly not the first species to manuipulate nature.

Peatling Magna! Its signs reassure any wayward traveller on where they are. Just before arriving here, I saw a man at the crossroads who was crouching on the ground, with his head buried amongst the ditch weeds. I thought at first he had had an accident, but was relieved to see he moved ok. But as to why he was there? I didn't ask...

The farmers around Leicestershire are so considerate. Knowing that walkers will often get covered in mud, they have provided a self-cleaning service for the self-conscious rambler. In the middle of nowhere, what greater privacy could one desire?

A nice view of a nice wooded trail, leading along Mere Road, which was indeed just merely a track. I was so absorbed in my wooded walk that I missed my turning to Willoughby Waterleys...

Wandering past the cemetry just outside of Willoughby Waterleys, I saw a flurry of activity around the new source of nectar which the ivy was about to provide. The ivy is almost as effective as a Buddleja at attracting butterflies at this time of year, such as this Speckled Wood Butterfly.

Behold the bustling centre of Willoughby Waterleys. As you can see from the picture, it is and idyllic, peaceful rural location with a very funky National Cycle Network 6 sign. I would feel safe cycling here. I would not say that about Leicester City.

Teenagers are teenagers, no matter what species. I'm sure my nephews won't mind me saying this. At first sight, the young cows swarmed towards me. Then they ran away, shy. Then they decided to get fresh and crowd around me. Then they hung out, with attitude, watching my every move as I got lost, and then retraced my steps to get right again.

On the road to Ashby Magna, having overshot my path (the hedge was very overgrown and hid the sign I should have followed), I observed a dried piece of dung with a fresh bit recently flung over it. I know my imagination can get carried away at times, but don't you agree that this looks like a fish?

Autumn is definitely here. The acorns are dangling from the oak trees.

Before hitting the M1, I came across an ordered oasis between the harvested and unruly fields I had spent a lot of time crossing. This was part of a camping site, with relaxing fishing lakes and freshly mown grass (the mowers almost drowned out the sound of the motorway!)

Approaching the M1, I saw this horse, minding it's own business, drowned in the roar from the adjacent motorway. It seemed happy enough, but very wary of people entering it's field. It wasn't interested in a fuss.

Ever on the search for new properties, I came across this luxury pad in the horse's field, which comes with it's own extensive plot of land and has good transport links to the rest of the country. This site was perhaps getting above my price range, but was certainly worth a view.

Where would we be without motorways? Probably not far from where we started, I can imagine. However, the roar from this road is to be heard for miles. No longer is the United Kingdom a quiet country.

A charismatic church, flanked by Yew trees and a person burning off bits of vegetation he had just chopped down. I was worried at first that somebody had set fire to the church, but all was well.

At last, Dunton Bassett bus stop. I was just in time for the next bus, and therefore didn't have a long and agonising wait to get home. The old bloke at the bus stop seemed to have a look on his face of 'What on earth are you doing?' before directing me to the right side of the road.