Previous to having just spent a blisteringly hot weekend mountain biking in the New Forest (for the first time I may add) I begun to wonder if everyone had gone to the moon in relation to off road cycling in the Hampshire, Wiltshire border area. But I needn’t have worried, five minutes of sunshine and a sudden rise in temperature (5 degrees is a big deal at the moment!) and the resident flies were out numbered by the visitors 20 to 1. Said flies of course tended to hang around those enduring equine statues that are the New Forest ponies; if I had a pound for every horse, pony, foal, pig (yes, pig!) donkey, ass (bare or other wise) that stood motionless in the middle of the road, vertical or dead on the tarmac, then I would now have packed my cossie and be living in the British virgin islands, so far away from the madding crowd that all went there to get away from everyone. Will I go back?  yes I would, but I think departing that National park before sun rise is really the way forward troops, so pack your night lights and enjoy the peace and quiet while you can.

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