The shortest distance between two points

is not necessarily a straight line…

A little later than planned, we set off from the stables at 7am, Tom and Twiglet noshing on their haynets in the back of the lorry, Hayley and me up front.

We were following Sammi/Ellen’s lorry because they knew the way to Boomerang, having been there before.

The route that our guides took us, from our corner of Oxfordshire to Hungerford(ish) led us down the A361 through Burford, Lechlade, Highworth, Swindon and then on to the M4, off again at Hungerford and, via a tortuously twisty and perversely back-tracking route, to our destination.

Total travel time: 1.5 hours.

Hayley and I decided that there had to be a more direct route and decided to head back, after schooling, via Lambourn, Farringdon, Lechlade and Burford which, it seemed to us, would be a much shorter route.

Aye. It might well be a shorter, more direct route, but the total travel time for the return leg?

1.5 hours.

And that’s the dichotomy of driving, when one has two ‘precious cargo’ passengers standing around, chomping on haynets in the back of the lorry.

The most direct route may involve travelling on roads that are totally unsuited to a 10-ton lorry with a ton of horse standing in the back!

And that was the case with the return route.

Lambourn is a revelation. If you haven’t been, you must, must, must go. It’s completely pretty and everyone in the village seems to be part of the racing industry – to the point where some folk are stabling horses in their garages.

But, pretty as Lambourn is, the roads in that area are totally dire. The very best speed I could get the lorry up to, without bouncing the horses out of their stalls and on to our laps, was 20mph – and that was the very best. On most of the route back we had to be content with 15mph.

However, being considerate, I pulled over whenever a tail of traffic built up behind us, to allow those behind to pass.

Yes, I really am that much of a sanctimonious git. But I look at it this way; I would not want to be stuck behind a horsebox doing 15mph!

Anyway, as mentioned, despite being a much shorter route home – in terms of road miles – the return leg took exactly the same amount of time as the outward leg.

I think the laws of physics in respect of travelling horses on Britain’s crumbling road system need to be rewritten.

The schooling?

The ground was so wet and muddy that despite the all-weather take-offs and landings we cut the session to the absolute minimum, in the name of safety.

But Tom jumped brilliantly over all of the fences that I put him to and *fanfare!* we now have brakes too! The nathe French Gag seems to have done the trick which is stupendous.

Unfortunately, the downside to our schooling session is that the washing machine has been put on danger money; it is fully employed with trying to deal with the mountain of filthy things I’ve returned home with.

And every single item of tack is plastered with muddy gunge too.

So tomorrow I shall be cleaning tack. And refuelling the lorry. And grooming.