The thing about walking to me is that I don't plan it. I just stroll out of the door with no particular destination in mind. Here in Long Itchington, South Warwickshire, we are spoilt for choice. Competing to entice the aspiring walker are a network of public footpaths, the Grand Union Canal and the long disused LNWR (London and North Western Railway) cutting that ran from Weedon to Leamington Spa. The other day, I used a combination of the above, to surprising effect. (One of the benefits, for me, of not planning, is where one can end up!)
(S/E)I continued on, down the lane for about another half a mile, then struck off left, onto the deeply rutted, but dry, bridle path. This path climbs quite steeply for about two hundred yards, then levels out, by a hay-barn, and descends to within a dozen yards of the Grand Union canal at Bascote Lock.
(1) Once on the canal towpath, I turned right, towards Leamington Spa. Nowadays, there is no incumbent occupying the Bascote lock-keeper's cottage and it has become a very attractive family home. There are four locks, close together on this stretch (numbers 14 - 17 of 160 in total on the Grand Union).
(2) After a further mile or so, I passed another fine lock keepers cottage at Welsh Road Lock (number 18 - only 142 to go!).
(3) Then I came to a bridge (number 31), with a set of newly installed, wooden steps at the side. They looked inviting, so I climbed them. Over the bridge ran a track which a Warwickshire County Council sign ambitiously described as a 'county unclassified road'. It even had a name - 'Centenary Way'.
(4) As I continued along Centenary Way, a church appeared, on top of the hill ahead of me - a clear sign of habitation. I continued on, curious to find out where I was. My path climbed the hill towards the church, and I could hear the hum of traffic getting closer. A building came into view on my right. There was a car park outside and some activity. I approached and a sign read 'The Wedding Barn'. I had definitely reached civilisation!
(5) I was about to find out where I was. I could now see the traffic passing by just ahead and reached the road, just below a sign proclaiming my mystery destination - 'Ufton'. To my left, on the brow of the hill, lay the church and The White Hart pub. I knew where I was and, if I'd had any cash on me, I would have celebrated with a pint!
