Perching

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Originally uploaded by tamaranth.

On Saturday ladymoonray and I went to Perching. Or rather where Perching (probably) used to be.

There wasn't much to see in terms of Ruins. Easy to imagine a village nestled in a hollow atop the Downs, sheep grazing the round hills, etc. This landscape has been inhabited, or at least used, for millennia. Very quiet, up there: sheltered: defended (probably) by a fortification on the brow of Perching Hill. (Perching Manor is down at the bottom of the Downs, near Fulking, which has springs.)

The only decent archaeological mention I could find is here.

More photos over here.

Middle English Yoga

Have survived first yoga class here. The middle-aged, sleekly blonde lady in charge of the class looked at me pityingly when I said I'd done Iyengar yoga. "Ah yes, I've moved on from there," she said. "Far too regimented."

Class was quite restful -- and it was nice to be in a pastel-coloured, mirror-walled studio instead of some of the more dubious venues of the Deptford class. The nice lady did not bully me once, nor mock my efforts. Ah, Cedric, where are you now? [Answer: India, learning new torture techniques.]

Would be ever so much more tempted to go on a regular basis if the pool was open immediately after: as it is, there's a half-hour wait, and nothing much to do.

I can feel the backs of my knees. And something twinging in the small of .... oh, it's the cat.