Sixteen Bassets had the luxury of two leaders this time: Gay (Senior) and Malcolm (Reserve). The walk had apparently been recce'd several times before, which was a blessing as goodness knows where we would have finished up if they hadn't. Still the weather was glorious, the scenery was liquid, and the company was forgiving.

A late lunch was taken - some in the sun, some opted for the shade of the woods. My group - dutifully following Gay - was perhaps well meaningly ushered along the wrong, ie longer side of the last reservoir, but somewhat surprisingly fetched us back before the forward thrusting group led by Malcolm.

His dubious excuse was that "We were never lost, we always knew where we were, just not where all the people were." Not sure what the moral is - except stick to Somerset, put not thy trust in Devonians.

Andrew (below) wondering when lunch is.