When ready, I returned to Petersfield to pick up the B road for The Hartings. The road meandered across the downs to the village of South Harting. I turned right and continued to follow the road out of town. Eventually, I forked off to the left on a road that took us up Harting Hill. The road winds it’s way up through woodland, coming to open area with a good sized parking area to the left. I pulled in and settled in a spot that suited.
The next day, I went for a walk over the Harting Downs. On the first hill, Round Down, I noticed a lone Hawthorn covered in haws. On closer inspection, I discovered that it is called the Fairy Tree. Around its trunk were left a number of offerings.
Continuing onto the second hill, Beacon Down, I reached Harting Beacon, a Bronze Age hillfort. Again, the views across the Downs and out to sea are incredible and I could see the South Downs Way stretching into the distance as it made it’s way over the next hill and beyond.
Before making my way back, I watched a Red Kite circling and swooping over the Beacon. I then took a different path from that which brought me to the Beacon. The path led along a ridge that afforded great views to the North.
By the time I got back, I was really looking forward to a cup of tea. But lo! “Where’re my keys!?” I checked my pockets frantically to find a hole! Yep. At some point on my walk, the keys had dropped through the hole in my pocket. Nightmare! I had no choice but to retrace my steps all the way back to Harting Beacon, checking around the Fairy Tree as I passed. I asked everyone I met along the way, but of course, no-one had seen any keys laying around. One kind gentleman accompanied me on my mission, which was really nice. I had some-one to talk to that kept me from brooding. However, the keys remained unfound.
Back at the caravan, I found that I had as usual, not locked the truck. I was then able to get to my tools. I unscrewed the hasp to gain entry. Fortunately, I had a spare key for the truck in the caravan. I was also now able to get that cup of tea that I was now really gasping for by this time. As I was on my second cup of tea, a man who I had earlier asked about the missing keys, knocked. He hadn’t found them, but gave me a book. I thanked him saying that I would definitely be giving it a read. The book is called Taming the Wolf and is a guide to Moon meditation.
The next morning, I had to move on. I needed to find a way to resolve my problem of getting in and out of my caravan. Unscrewing and screwing the hasp every time was not a long term option.
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