Not every policeman in Hampshire was sent to help out at the G20 Summit. A radar detector van was left to ensure good order on the A27 as it crosses the New Forest heading towards Ringwood. Oooof! I await the arrival of a nasty brown envelope within the next couple of weeks.
The reason for going to the New Forest in the first place was curiosity. I’d read in the new Spectator “Scoff” supplement that one of the best pubs in Britain was there – the Red Shoot at Linwood. Also, I reasoned, it would be sensible to make myself more familiar with this great tract of common land and meet up with some of the wild ponies.
The pub was okay. I approved the fact that instead of a bowl of peanuts on the counter there was a bowl of Bonio dog biscuits. The home-brewed beer was okay, too. But it was not worth the likely speeding fine – despite the pony fast asleep at the entrance.
The New Forest however was worth the trip, especially on a warm sunny afternoon with few people around. It is a huge area of unmolested woodland, bracken and scrub – perfect for development as a dormitory town for Southampton. The Forest has history, too. Although I’ve driven past the sign to Rufus Stone a hundred times, it never occurred to me that the place commemorates an important moment in English history.
My education (despite a history A-level) somehow missed out on King Rufus , son of William the Conqueror, and his fateful decision to go out hunting in the forest on Lammas-tide. As everyone but me knows Rufus was felled by friendly fire – an arrow shot by the King’s companion , William Tyrrel, which glanced off an oak tree and caught the unfortunate Rufus in the armpit. When he saw what he had done Tyrrel scarpered off to France rather than face the Hampshire constabulary. Sensible man. He apparently ended up in the Holy Land “in expiation of his involuntary treason”. I don’t think that I need to take quite such extreme steps. I’ll brave it out and wait for the speeding ticket.
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