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Once we had all assembled on Good Friday at our holiday cottage deep in the New Forest, it became clear that we were about to help fulfil a burning ambition. As we munched our second (or perhaps third!) hot-crossed bun, Gabi announced that she had always wanted to organise an Easter egg hunt. So, it was settled, she and Rosey would spend the next day cycling around and devising cunning clues to keep the rest of us occupied, and hopefully burning just the right number of calories (including thinking calories of course) to compensate for the eggs eaten.
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Easter Saturday came, and the rest of us took ourselves off on a ride in the direction of Romsey leaving the diabolical duo to do their worst. We returned later to find them with smug looks on their faces. However nothing we could do would induce them into a security breach, although in retrospect it might have helped if we had remember to buy wine to ply them with.
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Easter dawned, and Gabi was very keen. At 8.30 am she was to be seen peddling off into the forest with a bag tightly knotted, full of eggs and clues. About ¾ hour later we were ready for the challenge. Rosey parted with the first clue, and we were off in the direction of Fordingbridge. After some bumbling about we followed the B road west out towards Bowerwood House cross-roads where we reckoned the first egg and next clue were to be found. Rosey followed to guide us back onto the straight and narrow if we showed signs of hareing off in completely the wrong direction. At the cross-roads we were instructed to have a good old rummage in a large bank of daffodils. Helen came up with the first eggs. It felt a bit like being in a giant computer game where you collect things to replenish your energy, but in our case not our weapons.
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The next clue took us to Harbridge where we went tomb-raiding in the churchyard (quietly because the Easter morning service was going on). We then continued on tiny country lanes to Rockwood common, where we discovered a slight problem. Our eggs were packaged in supermarket plastic bags which Gabi had thoughtfully knotted, presumably to prevent eggs escaping and ensuing unsightly squabbles over the remaining eggs (not good for holiday morale). However you know what else is similarly packaged wherever dogs are walked! Eve found herself a very handsome veteran oak to sit under to watch Steve, Helen and James gamely investigating possible packages. Steve found the right package at the very top of a big mound under a stringy kind of a tree. Bravo, we cheered, no doubt all secretly relieved at not having to investigate any more suspect packages.
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On we went towards north Porley where we climbed a bit of a hill and then sped down to Linwood bottom where we were pretty sure we needed to look in a prominent gorse bush. That was easy, and we were just about to head off in search of our final destination, when we discovered through that miracle of modern technology, the text message, that our egg-layer (if that's the right term) had herself got lost! So while she sorted herself out, Stephen and I decided to have a game of Pooh-sticks at the nearby bridge over a small stream. Neither of us were destined for instant glory however as both sticks stubbornly refused to move at all. Eventually Stephen's did stir itself slightly and he was declared the winner, although Eve (bless her) did say that mine was more graceful.
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After about 20 minutes we got the signal to get going, and we headed uphill and off-road. The track headed to Picket Post. Not before going through some exciting humps and hollows which would have been fine had we suspension mountain bikes; but with road bikes and stomachs full of chocolate, most (but not all!) of us opted for the 24 inch gear. We crossed the A31 at an underpass and soon reached the viewpoint where the final egg package was found nestling near a parking sign.
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So there it was, all the eggs found, most eaten and a lifetime's ambition fulfilled, oh yes, and a very enjoyable cycle ride, thanks.
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