Treasure Hunt


it’s a car treasure hunt not a bike rally”.

A works planned car Treasure hunt, any excuse for exploring this corner of our green and pleasant land is a pleasure. especially as floods subsiding.

With no one else from our department taking part, I thought I would go solo, and despite it being the wettest drought in history decided that I should attempt the hunt on “Milly” the wonder bike.

“See you at about 6.30” said Richard as he handed me the papers and I leapt aboard and shot off trying to remember the first clues. Setting my watch I headed off

Now this was definitely a case of a little bit of knowledge is dangerous, as I recklessly went off in so many wrong directions

While in leatherhead I completed the first of many U turns as reading the instructions I believed I was going the wrong route.

It wasn’t until a bit further along that I realised there were maps DOH so I recalculated quick there was now an hour to go

Another U turn and I passed 3 other car loads going the wrong way and was pleased to know it wasn’t just me

I also realised this wasn’t “St Barnabas Church”

(west humble chapel)

Certainly the route found some great roads, with the bluebells out in full force the sights were fab and questions kept me on the lookout (2 u turns Ranmore) a few oncoming horses delayed as well as I let them pass rather than frighten them


Sadly along the route I realized how many old haunts had now gone Ranmore Arms, lord Howard etc  (2 u turns in Effingham)

Parking illegally in Bookham a quick scoot around for the on foot bit.

I am not surprised I never found the two fellows in Bookham being a severe dentaphobic . It’s amazing how many people query what you are up too running around with a pad and pen, probably fearing the worse to the next day’s elections.

I made it back to the final destination at 6.40 just outside the estimate, but not bad I thought. And I never had to open the emergency envelope.

But in the end was pleased that I was around the same score as some of the other teams.

Even better the hostelry did Devon’s finest otter ales, what a great way to end. And home just as the drought continued to fall from the sky again