At 7.08am we set off and passed through the starting gate on a route that took us down through posh houses – who must have been wondering what 500 people were doing walking past their front doors early on a Saturday morning – to the River Avon, and on through centre of Salisbury right through the Cathedral close. At one point, all we could see of the cathedral spire (the tallest in England) was the very pinacle, appearing Cheshire Cat-like out of the morning mist. It truly was hauntingly beautiful.

Then came the long walk up hill to Salisbury Racecourse in the sunshine, and the 6-mile mark and first water-stop. Refreshed, we went on along old Drover’s paths, up hills and through woods, another 8 miles to the lunch spot. We were carrying plenty of water and energy-rich snacks but we really needn’t as the organising had all laid on. The sandwiches weren’t so special, but there were tray bakes to die for.

After luch we just about reached the Stonehenge viewpoint before the good weather broke, so our our view of the stones was somewhat faded into the background. The rain then set in big time all the way back to Old Sarum.

Possibly the strangest thing of the day, was just a mile from the finish we arrived at a layby where two cars were parked up. In one car, there were some small, children with binoculars looking out for family and friends. As I passed the other, a man got out as I was waiting to cross the road and took my hand, and pressed a small square of paper into my hand and folded my fist over it. He said, “You’re doing well, you’re almost there now. Put this in your pocket and don’t look at it until the end.” I thought that it was just some random stranger who saw the event happening and was picking on random people to pass on a donation, and thought nothing more about it after thanking him kindly.

We rounded Old Sarum and crossed the finish line to be presented with our completer’s medals. It wasn’t until my Mum and Dad joined us in the tent that I took out the small square of paper. It proved to be a neatly torn off piece of a paper bag containing £26 and a note asking me to tell Debbie (my Mum) to call a mobile number and that this was a donation for Team Shepherd. He must have recognised me enough to pick me out from all the other sodden walkers, but not be known to me but be more a friend of my mum than my dad. We have called the number but so far are none the wiser as to our anonymous benefactor…

Striking straight up from the station, we reached the monument on Coombe Hill just as the sun broke over the hills and onto the Oxfordshire plain, and the birds were in full song. On the steps of the monument we sat and ate a bacon sandwich, listened to the birds, and watched the sunrise. There was not a single other soul in sight. It was blissful and perfect.

Only one mile into our walk, we continued on our way, across the hill through bluebell woods and down into the valley in front of Chequers (with the CCTV cameras that follow you…) and up again round the front of Pulpit Hill. It took until the halfway point as we came down to the back of Princes Risborough before we saw the first other person our walk.

By the time we reached Bledlow we were still at a time when most people (it being a Sunday) would not yet have had their breakfast. I imagined people inside the houses we passed just opening the Sunday papers and pushing down the plungers on their cafetieres, and we were nearing the end of our walk. It was such a good feeling.

We reached Chinnor Post Office just before half past ten, and were ready for a nice sit down at Emma’s sister’s house. They were primed to give us a lift back to our car.

On 3 September 2016, Emma and I will be walking the 26 mile Stonehenge Trek in aid of the Alzheimer’s Society. Neither of us have ever attempted anything like this, so it would be great if you would like to sponsor us for this great cause, and inspire us on our way!

We went for a nice, relaxing walk down by the canal in the morning, but it turned out being a bit of a mission of mercy when we discovered a calf had fallen in the water. We found out by someone on a narrowboat which farm it was and marched off, accross the fields and up into the village to tell the farmer. Finishing up our walk in a more leisurely fashion, by the time we get back to the car we can see allong the canal that the farmer has got his calf out the water okay.

For the afternoon and evening we went over to the inlaws (how weird, I can call them that now!) to help Liz out with a bit of gardening and to have a bbq dinner. Obviouslly the subject of the recent wedding did come up but at least we didn’t have to any wedding planning – yay!!

‘You aren’t stupid,’ said Uncle Victor smiling and shaking his head, ‘but sometimes the things you do are…’

‘I like people. I like watching them. It’s just I’d prefer to do it from a mile away using very powerful binoculars.’

‘The richer you are, I’ve worked out, the smaller your telephone and the bigger your telephoto lens.’