Waiting for Anto

Just scarfing some beans on toast and looking out my window at the rain. Yes rain. The forecast is for a hot sunny day, and yet there is perhaps a more appropriate rain. My rucksack is almost packed, and I am awaiting the call from Anton which will say something annoying like... Hello mate, did I wake you up?

Ideal preparation for the walk. Cats fighting in the Twitten last night, body churning with the MSG from the Chinese food I bought last night after a few beers with work pals.

Right... Boots on! We start at Arundel

Below taken from the dungeon at Arundel Castle.

Two days before the big one

So we are finally gathering ourselves for the assault on St Leonard's Forest. Anton has booked overnight rooms in village pubs. Our walk will start again from Arundel and will take three days in what looks to be conditions of blazing sun.

So good job that I washed and treated my Berghaus last night. But it may afford some protection against the spitting of the dragon. Or village locals if they take exception to the rather natty pair of Vans slip on shoes I am packing.

We also managed to source things like a USB recharger for the MPG recorder from under Anton's desk. Annoyingly he has indulged his penchant for planning: buying clothes, and other paraphernalia. And he has already gone through a trial pack of his kit. Including the Kendal mint cake Anna bought him.

But there are worrying injuries to contend with: Anton has a verruca, and my back is bad with no time to see the chiropractor. The weekend will be full of moaning.

Snakes with Wings

Been reading the classics in preparation for the walk.

Here is Herodotus from the Pengin Classics edition of Snakes with Wings and Gold-digging Ants translated by Aubrey De Selincourt, and revised by John Marinola. Sounds like a description of a dinosaurs' graveyard.

There is a place in Arabia more or less opposite the city of Buto, where I went to try to get information about flying snakes. On my arrival I saw their skeletons in incalculable numbers; they were piled in heaps, some of which were big, others smaller, others smaller still, and there were many piles of them. The place where these bones lie is a narrow mountain pass leading to a broad plain which joins on to the plain of Egypt, and it is said that that when the winged snakes fly to Egypt from Arabia in the spring, the ibises meet them at the entrance to the pass and do not let them get through, but kill them. According to the Arabians, this service is the reason for the great reverence with which the ibis is regarded in Egypt.... The winged snakes resemble watersnakes; their wings are not feathered, but are like a bat's.

Maps and beers

Anton and I went to the Nelson pub where we spread Ordnance Survey maps of Sussex out upon the table. A pint or two of Harveys were sipped as we discussed our quest and the project and our various route options: we aim now to try to finish it off in three consecutive days.

Audiophile

Today was all about listening to the sound files from the first stage of the Dragon Quest and editing all the more obvious drivel out to then send it into the radio station to see what they think. Actually I came away feeling fairly pleased at how natural we sounded, as opposed to our Cholmondley-Warnerish first attempt.

The irritating editing program took some getting used to, and I found myself grinding my teeth as I worked on my laptop going into work. I also worked on it during my lunch break, and then at home in the evening. It is even more time-consuming than doing the walk itself, but interesting nevertheless - and is giving me all kinds of spin off ideas.

It also makes me feel like going around collecting sounds for their own sake. Like the tapping and whistling sound of the wind through yacht masts, or the wind surging like a soft sea through trees which we briefly caught on the walk. I could listen to those sounds for ages.

Following the serpent to Burpham

Met Anton and we went to Marks and Spencer’s in Tilley hats, Craghopper trousers, Berghaus anoraks, proper Swiss walking boots. Anton was also sporting gaiters strapped around his calf. In his rucksack were Ordnance Survey maps, a compass, the first aid box and a nicely constructed baguette with bacon, lettuce, tomato and I think a dab of mustard.

My rucksack contained an emergency banana, a camera, information about dragons Anton had found, and the Bone of Contention - the small MP3 recorder which had so treacherously let us down last time.

Off to Littlehampton on the train. Today the weather was very different from when we walked it before, dark clouds, very strong wind and sun over a greenish and choppy sea. There was a moment when walking to our start point Anton suddenly felt really ill and wussy, and I thought the curse of the Dragon had struck again. However he felt a bit better after a sit down and some food. He had a snuffling cold and has not been eating properly lately. This is because he has lost interest in food now that he's teetotal.

This time we knew how to work the equipment and everything worked pretty well. I was checking what we had en route and was fairly pleased. We just decided to relax and be ourselves and for better or worse this is what will come out.

Not incredibly eventful walked up to Arundel (making it four times now that I have walked the particularly agoraphobia inducing bit) but felt pretty good. It was windy and a bit bleak, but this seemed much better dragon hunting weather. We walked inland as before following the undulating line of the river, and then crossed the bridge at Arundel and then Anton had a secret route, which led us towards Jacob's Ladder, which is the site of an Iron Age fort.

We climbed up the stairs and by way of an omen I almost trod on a lovely bronze coloured slow worm on the path. Slow worms of course are not snakes but legless lizards. A bit further on we were briefly assailed by a dense cloud of flies, and then we were into the eructational but beautiful village of Burpham. Burpham? Pardon? Etc.

Anton's destination for us, which was a surprise to me, was a nearby pub called the George and Dragon (from whence the legless lizard had repaired methinks). We had two good pints in there (Anton allowing himself a drink) before finding our way home.

Below: our slow worm. Anton by the Arun near Ford, George and Dragon pub sign, and a poster inside it.

A Discourse Relating to a Strange and Monstrous Serpent

Up the hill to see Anton about dragons. When I arrived Anton was ostentatiously drinking mineral water, and declaring that he was now a non-drinker, and was refusing to listen to Anna because she had drunk half a glass of wine and was therefore unreliable. Anton's teetotalism has lasted three entire days, a fact in which he is revelling.

Much less annoying was that he had been to Horsham Museum and bought a copy of a just published limited edition booklet on Horsham's Dragon, which includes the "True and Wonderfull - A Discourse Relating to a Strange and Monstrous Serpent (1614)".

Reading it we learnt about "black letters" which is a type of Gothic-looking font which at that time was reserved for important tracts, bibles and so on. The Discourse was originally printed in that font, possibly indicating the importance of the news it contained. The dragon was actually described as a serpent, and we discussed this at some length.

Then sleepily home, with the dragon book in my man bag.