Arksey
All Saints Church, Arksey Scorchio! Over the last few days, the weather has been sweltering in The Yorkshire Republic. To tell you the truth, walking good distances in this kind of weather can be quite challenging but as Noel Coward sang, "Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun". I made sure I had my faded sunhat from Malta with me and a big flask of cold water. Clint agreed to transport me to the village of Arksey, north of Doncaster. I had never been there before. It's in flat agricultural land criss-crossed by languid drains, sloth-like rivers and arrow straight railway tracks. This is not an area favoured by walkers so some of the public footpaths are rarely trodden. I came down a dusty lane to a path that hugs a currently dried up stream. It would have taken me in a big arc heading up to the former site of Thorpe Marsh power station. However, it was so overgrown with nettles and brambly briars that even Indiana Jones would have thought twice about it...