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– CYCLOGEOGRAPHY – I passed East Dean and West Dean, below the shadow of the Dean escarpment, which is still much as Thomas describes it, ‘Dotted with Yew, that is seen running parallel to the railway, a quarter of a mile away.’ At East Grimstead I met Malcolm, a farmer who was battling cockchafers in the churchyard. His eyes streamed continually from the cold as spoke. His family farm overlooked the churchyard, but he’d given it up now, he said. Five generations at least had worked that farm before him. His wife was from the same village, and his father and grandfather would both have been alive when Thomas passed through. Malcolm still kept a few sheep, he said, which he used to keep the grass down on the land over the ridge I’d just passed. It made up some of the oldest yew forest in these parts. He was proud of the land: ‘a fierce patriot’. He was against the EU. ‘Can’t even bury your dead sheep on the farm anymore.’ He had written to his MEP about disposing of dead sheep but his letter had been ignored. The cockchafers were tough, he said, but he thought he was making progress. ‘I’ve dug wider holes this year,’ he said, ‘seeing as you can’t buy anything strong enough to kill them anymore.’ That night I slept for twelve hours straight in a friend’s house nestled in the Wiltshire hills. My friend was away and had left the key out for me, but I’d forgotten to buy provisions on my way in and the closest village was too far to ride back to after a day in the saddle. I drank whisky and ate cheese because I had 150
page 161
– On the Road – nothing else. Guinea fowl patrolled the lawns. A wire rabbit sculpture prayed to the setting sun. I woke to bright dawn. A hawk was sunning itself on a fence post at the end of the garden. The world had been transformed during the night, from overcast to frosty and brilliantly bright. Ice flamed and flickered in the ditches. The dirt roads that ran behind the house were hard going, frozen ditches and crackling frost. I stopped and pushed my bike often. Eventually the old farm tracks gave way to tarmac, to the most perfect cycling road. I slipped through this tree-lined tunnel in a blur, the wind whipping tears from my eyes. The rocket-like spire of Salisbury Cathedral flickered through the trees to my right. Pigeons and pheasants broke around me, following me along the road. A hawk flapped into the air. In the distance I could hear the faint pop-pop of shotgun fire. I arrived in Salisbury as the bells were striking ten, but I left almost immediately to cross Salisbury Plain. The Plain has since before Thomas’s time been a military training area, and hasn’t been developed much at all. The vast expanses of it fell away in every direction. The sun was beaming down, but a cold wind blew at my back. Just before I arrived in West Levington, I came across a plaque: 151

– On the Road –

nothing else. Guinea fowl patrolled the lawns. A wire rabbit sculpture prayed to the setting sun.

I woke to bright dawn. A hawk was sunning itself on a fence post at the end of the garden. The world had been transformed during the night, from overcast to frosty and brilliantly bright. Ice flamed and flickered in the ditches.

The dirt roads that ran behind the house were hard going, frozen ditches and crackling frost. I stopped and pushed my bike often. Eventually the old farm tracks gave way to tarmac, to the most perfect cycling road. I slipped through this tree-lined tunnel in a blur, the wind whipping tears from my eyes. The rocket-like spire of Salisbury Cathedral flickered through the trees to my right. Pigeons and pheasants broke around me, following me along the road. A hawk flapped into the air. In the distance I could hear the faint pop-pop of shotgun fire.

I arrived in Salisbury as the bells were striking ten, but I left almost immediately to cross Salisbury Plain. The Plain has since before Thomas’s time been a military training area, and hasn’t been developed much at all. The vast expanses of it fell away in every direction. The sun was beaming down, but a cold wind blew at my back. Just before I arrived in West Levington, I came across a plaque:

151

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