Chelmsford to Glinton

I even arrived early in Glinton. And had time to walk round the chilly, deserted Peterborough Cathedral close.

Cold all day, but lovely sunshine, which sometimes penetrated the spray and salt-encrusted bus windows.

Less than a minute into my first journey - two omens. Ice warning to the left, and to the right a walker, with back pack and all the gear, striding towards Chelmsford.

[21] 10:17 Braintree to Halstead

Waiting in Braintree. The old café, always a place of warmth, steam and toast, is a café still, but "ceramic" now, so I imagine you get to design your crockery, and, for regulars, drink all your tea in your own china ...

An oriental man is struggling to make his query intelligible. We think, improbably, that he wants the

 Fire Station. He agrees, and we send him off in that direction. 

The 21 arrives early. 

Onwards, through Bocking, the Four Releet, the very road I travelled daily to school, each bend so well known that I could navigate it blind by the seat of my pants. Past the lane, and the half-timbered Sparrows, today's Dream Home in The Times.

A group of tourists alight in the village, and set off up the drive towards Gosfield Hall.

[11] 10:58 Halstead to Sudbury

Beeston's old-fashioned little bus pootles round North Essex hamlets, picking up countrywomen known by name to the driver. Dorothy gets off, and a face in a cottage window waves a greeting.

Past the Victory at Wickham St Paul. Eileen is going into Sudbury to post her last Christmas present. "It's not been so easy this year ... Tim and I always used to do it together ..."

We arrive in Sudbury just after half past eleven.

[70] 09:20 Chelmsford to Braintree

Less than a minute into my first journey - two omens. Ice warning to the left, and to the right a walker, with back pack and all the gear, striding towards Chelmsford.

By Broomfield, the sun is

 shining, reflected in the frost and snow.