Now I know I’m not a Rambler! The prospect of a local walk, in the company of a ‘well known local naturalist’, a circular tour over the foot paths passing Barton Broad, culminating in a scrambled egg and smoked salmon breakfast sounded a pleasant way to spend Midsummer morning. Alas the leader of the group, far from being a naturalist, had obviously trained with a forty pound pack and rifle. He achieved an impressive speed, leaving anyone admiring a view or focusing a camera to follow the scorch marks on the ground. Like two naughty schoolgirls bunking off from Cross Country, Kit and I nipped off on a short cut, and found time to gaze at the view, photograph the flowers, grab a comfort stop as we passed her house, and be a cup of coffee ahead by the time the rest of the ‘regiment’ arrived at the restaurant.