Whilst protagonists of TV travel/adventure programmes strive to travel further and be more adventurous, - our own 'door-step' or 'back-yard' should not be left untrodden.
Take my hand and I will lead to to Paradise, - and back.
There is a slight incline up Chapel Lane, past the shop/post office, to The Green. An 'In Memorium' seat allows us to sit and study the great Turkey Oak, a landmark for first-time visitors.
No traffic in sight, so cross the main road and into Church Lane. A year ago we would have been hailed from behind the first hedge, but Charlotte and Robert moved to Cornwall and the 'new' people have yet to 'surface'.
The church stands on an elevation, as churches do, - nearer to Heaven and visible to all. Its original congregation must have been super-fit or extra-devout to ascend the steep path to its door. The clock strikes the half-hour and its four faces watch us turn the corner. Alabaster effigies sleep in the cool of the Lady Chapel.
We will lean against the five-bar gate and gaze over the field. Fantasmas of the Knights Hospitaller can be imagined where once stood their Preceptory. Beyond is the bluebell wood where we have measured three Ancient (over three hundred years old) trees.
Further along the lane houses stand to the left and trees on the opposite side where squirrels bound from branch to branch. Birds, unlike Victorian children, and heard but nor seen. Butterflies flitter in the hedgrow.
"morning, lovely morning!" Two riders pass by on horseback, their steeds maintaining a steady 'clip clop' over their familiar route.
We'll call-in at Richenda's and she will share with us her passion of the garden. Then past Salex Cottage with its tiny Gothic windows and we rejoin the main road; before crossing we read the sign, proof of where we've been, - Paradise Lane.
Over the road, check that the sapling oak is thriving, planted and vicar-blessed to commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the Coronation of HM The Queen. Over the brook, looking for the kingfisher which is never there, past the school in its Summer-holiday silence and past the cemetary, - forever silent.
Decision time now, return up the hill and through Badgers' Walk or past the chapel? Past the chapel on the, more or less, flat. The 'chapel' is now a private dwelling. A dwindling congregation necessitated its closure and sale to which, ironically, crowds flocked. I'm not sure that I could live in an 'ex-House of God'. Even though deconsecrated , the spirits of those lustily singing Methodists must surely live-on within the red-bricked walls.
Whilst the valient and intrepid doggedly continue to surmount their obstacles to record their forays on film, we have quietly been to Paradise................and back.
