Ten long miles

Banstead, how I hate Banstead stupid bastard golf course. I'm still lost and I went there yesterday. Eventually, after going completely the wrong way twice following the directions in the book to the letter, I was about to give up when I spotted a walker with the same purple book in hand. I followed him; he fastened his pace thinking I was a hoodie mugger or something but at least I got onto the right track and off that damned golf course. I then walked 10 miles of lovely walk through Ewell and Worcester Park to Kingston. My feet hurt now. There was a horrid unkempt teeny pathway by some sports pitches and I'm very glad I was wearing my combat trousers so I could combat all the brambles and nettles. I also got hijacked by a rival walk which does happen when the signs have been stolen; I managed to rejoin my walk somewhere along a busy main road which if I'd kept to my walk wouldn't have featured. Anyway, ten miles, good eh? It was probably more with the stupid circles I did in Banstead and the getting sidetracked then the dog walk I did when I got home.