Robert had to leave in the afternoon to drive to Bishophill for one of his Buddhist meetings so we did a short walk, setting out from the caravan along the road towards Owlands.
We turned off the road at Washfold Farm and followed a path alongside the river; here and there we could spot the overgrown and partially hidden remnants of Blea Gate. We picked up a walled section of the Gate again near Owlands and looked around Owlands Church, which wasn’t as dirty and dusty inside as I remembered from last time. We had a good pub lunch before wandering back.
Andrew and I diverted to Stonesdale and had a drink at The Plough, and got back just as Robert was setting off.
In the evening we went in search of the deer along Blea Gate. Sure enough, we spotted the female in the same field as before and watched her grazing and slowly wandering alone in the long grass for half-an-hour.
We walked right along the Gate to Sleightshaw and were accosted by a talkative Teesider who held us captive for twenty minutes or more. It came in dark quickly and Dad started to tell stories about hauntings and mysterious voices he said he'd heard outside the caravan. After this, Carol and I walked back at breakneck speed, both of us wanting to run but not daring to, our eyes darting nervously here and there.
We didn’t expect Robert back until tomorrow but he rolled up at about eleven, having driven back from Bishophill in only an hour-and-a-half.
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