I just witnessed one of those mad eccentric walking tour moments – a dance on the top of Beacon Hill while other walkers hummed the tune “The Canal In October”. I actually saw Boff dance a schottische. This was his punishment for not dancing last night at Elsted Village Hall. Our concert turned into a great session and ceilidh with lots of local musicians and singers. Where everyone’s energy comes from is a constant source of amazement to me. Elsted is a beautiful village hall fronted by a lovely cricket pitch with great views over Sussex. An idyllic place to finish a hard day’s walking. Our thanks to all the musicians and dancers, and special thanks to the Knock Hundred Shuttles morris team for hosting us, and to Marion for organising the whole thing. Good luck to Becky & Ben on their forthcoming marriage.

A red kite circled the cricket pitch as we left this morning, and we glimpsed a herd of fallow deer resting in the sun. No rest for us – we’re on our way! JJ

Yesterday – the walk, the midday pub, more walking and another pub in the evening for the gig – was almost my idea of the perfect walking tour day. It was a big day and a great gig in the George & Dragon, Houghton. After all that, today has a sense of the harsher realities of long-distance walking. I have never seen as many plasters being applied at breakfast. Sore feet seem to be most people’s problem and it’s not surprising because the chalk and flint path is pretty unforgiving. My feet are feeling it too. Today should have been called the “feet don’t fail me now” tour. We’re walking from West Sussex towards the Hampshire border, and the South Downs are becoming more lush and tree-lined and less open. But still we’ve had some magical glimpses out towards mid-Sussex and as far as the North Downs. Looking forward to Elsted Village Hall tonight. JJ

So. We walked from Somewhere to Somewhere Else. Two small but bustling towns on the South Downs Way. In between these places was a varying number of green and pleasant miles, gorgeous views, countryside throwing itself at us from every angle. Lovely. Nature in all of us and all of us in Nature. The second day of rambling / route marching (you decide) ended with an ice cream van, a beacon and a mad tumble towards Jack and Jill windmills.

By the time the stage was organised at the Hassocks Hotel, the 25+ party of hardy (foolhardy? Laurel and Hardy?) walkers had settled into their third pints and the band were ready to stumble / foxtrot (you decide) through a set of John’s songs. Typically, everyone forgot the words and did anyone mind? No! The Ramblers is an exercise in Ideas and Risk and linking up the “day-to-day” with the hallowed hidden world of the touring musician. Breaking down the barriers! Making stuff up! Getting things wrong! Band and audience together “in harmony”!

“Didn’t we have a love-er-ly time” etc (John said not to mention that).

Until next time, Boff.