One of the pretty, ironstone buildings in Eydon; and on the route out, shortly after Warden Hill. This really was beginning to resemble the heartland of England and I was so lucky to be blessed with fine early spring weather.

Down from high, rolling countryside and into a weird wooden copse, littered with these Second World War RAF bunkers, now completely engulfed in the foliage. To Chipping Warden just beyond and The Griffin Inn, replete with a wealth of RAF memorabilia. (and tasty beer!)

Crossing the Oxford Canal, shortly before Claydon. It was about here that my left knee, which had been providing considerable agony, for some time, decided to send crippling waves of pain. I had anticipated foot problems, if any, and the knee took me completely by surprise. Only 116 miles and I really was feeling quite desperate as I struggled down into Farnborough, (right). I had only three more miles until Warmington, and Pond Cottage, but these were by far the most arduous steps I made throughout the entire trip. I was literally dragging my left leg as I passed over the M40 and consequently covered my right foot in blisters. Any down hill action created nauseating pain and all ascents brought relief, albeit slight respite. I knew that Warmington could be my ‘Waterloo’ and would have to make serious decisions relating to proceeding. But I hadn’t banked upon the tenacity of a certain Mrs Viljoen..