January 4th – I’ll be perfectly honest here – I felt lower than a snake’s knees; the black dog was truly upon me and I’d been trying to ignore it for days. I’ve no idea why, other than stuff just wasn’t going well generally, but I did what I always do when life gets the better of me: I got out my cyclic antidepressant and rode it hard.
I rode over to Farewell on a journey that started sunny, but ended dank and misty, but it was enjoyable. Although cold, there were signs of life and colour in Farewell churchyard that pleased and encouraged me; and the winding icy lanes were a challenge.
The old holloway of Cross o’ th’ Hand Lane was as dramatic as ever.
Coming back through Wall, the church and Roman remains were excellent stopping points as ever. My mood wasn’t completely lifted, but I felt a lot better.








