A walk - noun: an often pleasurable journey from one place to another undertaken on foot. Whether actually pleasurable or not depends on the weather and the terrain and the company. By convention "on foot" although singular and therefore suggestive of hopping, refers to two or more feet progressing forwards in a walking manner. If sped up, the walk would become a run. On feet.
Walking the dog - phrase: a duty required of man or woman to be undertaken on a daily basis for the entertainment of man or woman's best friend(s).
In a tale involving a significant birthday, tickets for Jeeves and Wooster at the Duke of York theatre, London (terrifically entertaining), long-legged-boy, babysitting and the need to provide transport from the railway station to home, it seemed a good idea to park a car at the station and to walk home - a distance of 9.7 miles by road, probably closer to 11 miles via footpaths. With Four-legged-friend and Bertie Baggins.
England was looking beautiful. The Scot in me wants to say that Scotland will always look better but I do recognise beauty when it demands to be seen and it was a stunning and English scene.
The footpaths were wide, easy to find and open
Snacks were good (chocolate and dog biscuits).
Lunch was better.
Caffeine boosted the map reading
As we progressed from field
to ditch - "Come in, it's lovely!
On the way, we were slowed down by mud
and fox poo
... then (thankfully) more water
We encountered strange blue barrel monsters that required much fierce and brave barking at
and relics of war that we didn't bark at
We brushed through crops (..swishy swashy - on our own private Bear Hunt)
scrambled over fallen trees
and took shadow selfies
We met three people and four dogs.
An hour from home, we strayed beyond the manicured paths of country estates and got lost. Where we needed to get to was visible on the horizon
but it was now a case of guess where the footpath might be and hope that if we walked to the corner of that field where the map suggested it should be, we wouldn't find our way blocked by a fence. Which it was, several times.
So we strayed.
And five hours became five-and-a-half-hours.
Walking gave Four-legged-friend back his bounce.
It gave me blisters.
It was however a wonderful way to spend an afternoon. After the blisters have healed, I would walk five-and-a-half-hours more. It is the perfect guilt-free pastime for a procrastinator. It gives you time to think. To dream. To switch off from the noise of the world beyond.
Switching off is easier for dogs. When you have four legs and each paw proclaims that it has walked a thousand miles, falling down at the floor, next to the Aga, is a fitting switching-off reward.