Snow on the ground, temperature -3, northerly wind chill, It must be another day for a Rotary Polio Plus walk! So with some trepidation Liz, (dodgy foot) and I, (general decrepitation) prepare for the ordeal ahead. Excellent start being chauffeured from our door to the start point, with a small exploration of the backstreets of St Albans where we’re nearly rammed by an ice-blinded BMW. 
Further on a part -frozen brook is crossed, two Heron’s on display, the going much aided by part frozen ground. Wood End Farmhouse is passed and almost immediately we encounter the ancient Redbournbury house with a working bakery. Many of our party weaken, much cake is consumed, a short break is taken. Further on we encounter three ponies, closer examination reveals their condition to be sadly suspect, and a country person and lad are seen harnessing a pony to a trap. Something about his response to us suggests cameras may not be welcome…A small part hidden scrap yard is passed without comment. Further progress sees us on a disused railway path which we leave abruptly to pass a house garden that made mine look like Kew, to enter the picturesque village of Redbourn. Leaving the church till later we repair to a local inn for our lunch break taken in a sheltered garden, and still in brilliant sunshine.
The church, where curiously I had been recently present at my nephew’s son’s christening, was a splendid building with excellent facilities. A superb Rood Screen with rural carvings being much admired .Slightly uphill from Redbourn we became more aware of the dreaded M1 which we eventually crossed. The vision of all this bustling humanity contrasting sharply with the peace and tranquillity of our day. A longish mainly rising grade, interspersed with many ice bound puddles, (It was still freezing hard in the shade) took us up, passed friendly horses, to Flamstead where we sight another splendid medieval church. A signpost is spotted on the road “Markyate 2 miles.” Can we be that close already? I’m not even partially clapped out yet. Not quite, the” Way” map takes us off-road (as it should), so we make rural and peaceful entry downhill into Markyate cross the old A5 and in to the car park. Careful forethought by our trusty leader had ensured an earlier call to Julia, our taxi, so waiting was minimised.
Thus ended a splendid day, with no-one complaining of any bodily failures, and all feeling that we had had a privileged day, in good company, in rare and brilliant weather, in quiet and ancient pastures, seemingly rarely trod at this time of year.
David Beardwell
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