[J wrote this]
Local awesomeness trumped the food today.
30 cranes, no less. (That’s 15% of the UK population I reckon.) I said ‘ooh look at those geese.’ R said ‘they’re cranes’. They were squarking away to each other and landing in a field with flocks of starlings swirling all around, and roe deer ambling by. Glorious.
Then on the afternoon leg of our walk we met the nicest retired professional French horn player you could ever wish to meet. Scouting out a walk for his group next week. Apparently they don’t like mud. ‘Good luck!’ I called out cheerfully before we parted. (He told us the locals are rather proud of the local crane population.)
And then the cutest bumbliest stoat you could wish for lolloping along the path to suss us out. And back and forth, and then popped its head out of the hedgerow.
Ok yes the food. Pretty good again. The Halfway House pub (either terminus being Somerton and Langport) is possibly (definitely according to at least one competition) the best pub in England. Pretty perfect in most ways. And then a little teensy weensy pastel de nata afternoon snack in Somerton – ooh get us. And the Devonshire Arms served up a pretty good dinner as we’ve come to expect.
And the sun shone and the green glowed and no kingfisher to be seen but we got a bit spoilt yesterday on that score.