I love being out and about in Britain. This country mixes a deep grain of village tribalism and eccentricity with fuckoffI'mdoingitmyway. That's quite refreshing, given there are now long rows of bleak brain-washed officials throughout the land whose jobs are dedicated to ensuring countrywide compliance with statutory requirements for everything, from the health and safety and risk assessment of blue paint usage in primary schools to the implementation of a monitoring and report review system of customer satisfaction in queue length at jobcentres.
These days, sticking up two fingers at the local school, ground down as it is by the kill-joy National Curriculum, and running off to Hampshire in the blustery wind and sunshine is about as anarchic and independent as an elderly Grit can be. But it suits me and, I hope, the gritlets.
They seem happy enough with an on-site education. First we visit the Museum of the Iron Age at Andover, and then trek up the hill fort at Danebury. And what a splendid place. We can feel the wind on our faces, talk about grain pits, defensive locations and ancient history, and we don't have to tick any boxes or complete E367 Risk Assessment Form for Walking on Grass.
Heck, with this much freedom and independent thought and action, we might just take tea in Nether Wallop.
4 comments:
I grew up in Hampshire! Although sadly, not in a Wallop.
Danebury fort is wonderfully evocative - I hope the gritlets enjoyed themselves.
hello mud! danebury was wonderful, and ne'er a complaint from the gritlets, which proves it.
I'm still unsure about the Wallops, but the rest is clear to me and I would have liked to track along. Those girls are getting a wonderful education.
That is a really cool - ground bridge?
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