It’s been a few weeks since me and Faye took on our first section of the Leicestershire Round, a local 100 mile walking route. Finding free time can be challenging, but even more so when there are two of you. Anyway, on a sun drenched bank holiday weekend we found an afternoon free to go and do our second section of the walk.

Our walk picked up from where we left off in Woodhouse Eaves. We’d come straight here from a trip to the farm and planned to get a mile of the walk done before stopping for a packed lunch we’d brought with us. Leaving the car we made our way through the village and got back onto the route, which left the village through a small sideroad before heading out into farmland to follow the public right of way.

We could feel the change of seasons from our last walk as the sun shone on our back as we headed through the wheat field, a duo-tone contrast of green fields and deep blue sky. It felt like we had the world to ourselves as we left the sound of the village behind and was left with the gentle thud of our boots on the cracked, muddy path, surrounded by distant birdsongs, echoing from the trees on the outskirt of the field. It felt great to be out in the fresh air walking again. It’s hard to put a word to the feeling I get from walking through open fields with a backpack on my back and a sense of adventure for what lies ahead. If I had to put it into a word, I would say I was content.

We kept following the trail straight through field after field, passing between a small brook and a big farm up on the hill as muddy path turned into sludgy mud. We were heading towards the Great Central railway line, which is a prominent attraction in the local area where the old steam trains pass over a viaduct on Swithland Reservoir. The Great Central railway was an idea dreamed up in the 19th century to connect Manchester to Paris. The line connected the industrial areas of Lancashire and Yorkshire to London for the later best part of a century before it closed in 1969, although it was saved by the Main Line Preservation Group, and now operates as a heritage line.

The fields relented as we passed over stile after stile, dropping down onto the squidgy grass whilst avoiding the stinging nettles which were beginning to creep back and swallow the fences. Dotted along the hedge line was an array of colour, with wildflowers coming into bloom. Bees were darting from one to the other, pollinating the flowers in flurry of flapping wings.

On the final field we passed straight over the hill, taking shelter from the sun for a second under an isolated, craggy oak tree. From here we had views of the fields out in front of us and the railway line to our right. A uprooted branch made for an appetising spot for lunch but the farmer was out spraying fertiliser on the fields, which made for a somewhat unpleasant smell so we opted to carry on along the route.

A small walk up hill took us onto the bridge over the railway and we found ourselves on walking on the tarmacked surface of Kinchley Lane as we snaked our way around the outskirts of the reservoir, stopping only briefly to pick some wild garlic from the side of the road, which was flowering with a carpet of white petals.

It was a pleasant mile walk around the reservoir, which was built in the Victorian era to provide water for the city of Leicester. This section of the route was a little busier, with people parking their cars along the side of the road to enjoy a walk around the water in the beautiful spring sunshine.

We continued along the path, the water to our right and Buddon Wood to our left, obscuring the view of large manor house gardens and an old mill stone quarry, which has been in operation for over 250 years. As we walked we could hear the distance chug of a steam train on it’s journey along the Great Central line. Although we never managed to catch sight of the train, we could see the steam blowing above the tress on the far side of the water.

Hunger set in as we ticked another mile of the walk off. Hopes of sitting down on the waters edge and enjoying a lunch time view of the splendid landscape we dashed by high stone walls either side of the lane, blocking access to the privately owned reservoir. Instead we snacked on cereal bars as we walked, turning away from the water and heading up Nunckley Hill where we did eventually manage to find a small grass verge to sit down and enjoy the rest of our lunch. From where we sat we could see the hill in which Old John sits in Bradgate Park in the distance. A reminder of how far we had walked.

After a later than planned lunch, we didn’t have much walking left to do for the day. Just over a mile separated us from our end point for the day in Mountsorrel, and old market town. Revitalised from our lunch, we finished the walk to the top of the hill and then followed lanes, bridleways and trails into the village where we finished next to the Butter Cross, an stone rotunda built in the 18th century as the centre point for what was then the village market.

It was a step back into reality as we passed through the rotunda and back to the car. It was a sunny bank holiday weekend and the town was bustling with people, a contrast to our last two hours where for the most part we had walked alone, enjoying the solitude of a trail which doesn’t attract the attention of others in the big national parks.

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