It will all come out in The Wash

RAF Holbeach
RAF Holbeach
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TRISH TAKES FIVE: By award-winning blogger Trish Burgess

I have made a decision to try and do more exercise. If I’m involved in a SADOS production, chances are rehearsals will involve some movement and certainly the last show was very energetic. But at the moment, rehearsing for our play, Family Planning, my character, Gran, is horizontal in bed the whole time. I go along to rehearsals once a week, lie on a bed and eat Rolos in between scenes - and eating Rolos isn’t even in the script.

This sedentary life is not healthy so a couple of Sundays ago, when the sun was shining, Dougie and I decided to go for a walk. We packed water and a couple of satsumas and drove to the back of beyond or, rather, Gedney Marsh. To think we sometimes drive for an hour to reach the sea at Norfolk and yet ten minutes away we have our own stretch of coastline in The Wash.

I was advised by my energetic husband that it would be good for us to walk briskly to benefit from a decent work-out. We started walking along the sea bank and it was glorious. Just a few cow pats to avoid at first and then we were bewitched by the huge Fenland skies and the gleaming wheat fields.

We were aiming for the control tower at RAF Holbeach which we could see tantalisingly in the distance but which didn’t appear to come any closer because the path wasn’t straight.

As we approached the 
entrance to the bombing range, Dougie assured me the flag was down and we would be safe crossing the stile. 
The sign which warned against unexploded bombs and dangerous missiles made me a tad nervous but this was offset by the welcome absence of cow manure. Swings and roundabouts.

After about an hour of vigorous walking, we eventually reached the tower, devoured our satsumas and turned back. The wind was against us this time but the tide had come in so we were able to see the sea and, if my map was correct, an island called Outer Westmark Knock.

I have to say I was feeling rather smug about my level of fitness. Dougie was particularly impressed as he had expected whinging.

On the final bend we saw, right across our path, a herd of cattle. I don’t know why this surprised us, considering the number of country pancakes we had avoided on our jaunt, but it did. At this point I became anxious.

“Don’t look them in the eye!” I said.

“Isn’t that just for dogs?” Dougie replied, both of us showing our complete 
ignorance of countryside issues.

“Should we stay still or run?” I asked.

“I think that’s advice for stumbling upon bears. Why don’t we just walk slowly past them?”

We walked quietly past the cattle and exited by the gate to reach our parked car.

“I think some of them may have been bullocks,” Dougie said, as we drove home.

“How on earth could you tell?”

“I couldn’t see any udders,” he stated.

“You were looking for udders?” I exclaimed.

“Well, you said not to look them in the eye. I had to look somewhere!”

You can follow Trish on Twitter @mumsgoneto and read her blog at