Wild horses….couldn’t drag me away from you

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One of my better pre-trip inspriations was to sing a song and film it in various places…

So a war song in Gallipoli, “The hills are Alive….”  in Switzerland, Streets of London..you get the idea.
Unfortunately my travel companions all suffer from accute embarassment at the mere thought of their mother, on a ukulele (a banjolele at that) in public, or in any place that is potentionally public (ie deserted Swiss meadow).
(I am on a promise for Paris still though and will find a way Jll!)
So of course when Charlie and I turned up in The New Forest to camp the song was almost audible….

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I even have it with me, that old Rolling Stones classic….so it could easily happen…

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There are 3000 wild horses in the New forest!  They are like the sacred cows of India, just wandering around the villages, on the roads, we had to drive through a huge swathe of them. (Or as some may say a  “herd”…)

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In the cute village of Burley they were everywhere! Poor things though sweltering in the 30 plus degree heat…

But really we were there because of Ashurst. (with one “h”).
In New Zealand we live in Ashhurst – with two “h’s”…

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So we had to record the trip…

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Our plans to camp at Ashurst where thwarted by the hot weather, the Brits were out in force and the place was full.  Even going in and telling the lady in the office where we were from and pleading did not work.  Strange.

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But that was OK as we found a spot in Holmsley and spent a gorgeous afternoon under cool trees hanging out.

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When we moved to Ashhurst (NZ) it took me a year to realise that it was  spelt with 2 “H’s”, maybe originally it was just the one….

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