Warden Hill to Ickleford.
It is mildly chaotic at the Luton transport centre. Buses are arriving from all directions and double-parking at the stops. Some are even abandoned as a driver goes off duty and is not immediately replaced. I jump on, hopefully the correct bus, but was it 4a or 4b
I manage to get off at a couple of stops before Warden Hill, making my day that little bit longer.
Picking up the route, I head off eastwards on a bridleway which cuts through the golf course without endangering anyone. My narrow lane climbs onto the chalk downs alongside Galley Hill. The golfers have a challenging course to contend with. 
The lane is a byway and has been roughly surfaced in the past. It gives a pleasant walk in and out of the woods and has the feel of an ancient way over the hills. 
Looking back to Galley Hill.
Where the byway meets the road, Traveller’s Joy has taken over. And of course, once on the road, litter starts to appear for the first time. 
I stop to look at these fruits and think they are either Cherry Plums or Mirabelles. Quite sweet to taste. 
What a great place to bring the children cycling, on the slopes of Telegraph Hill.
The first high point is Telegraph Hill. This was once the site of an early C19th Telegraph Station, part of a chain from Norfolk to London to monitor any Napoleonic invasion. The system was flawed in fog and was dismantled after Napoleon’s navy was defeated at the Battle of Trafalgar. There is nothing to see of it today, and as I’m in a sunken, worn lane, no views either, but lovely beech trees. 
I have been climbing all morning, and to get some views, I deviate to ascend Deacon Hill, all of 172m. Now on open chalk grassland, the Pegdon Hills Nature Reserve, which supports a rich flora and scarce butterflies. I only come across sheep.
I can’t make it look any steeper than this.
Once I reach the ridge, I take in the 360-degree views and a shaky video in the gusty winds.
The trig is not at the highest point, but it gives an excellent viewpoint and a seat for an early lunch. The summit has been extensively disturbed at some stage by ancient earthworks or recent quarrying. 
That’s rabbits doing their own chalk quarrying.
Looking back at Deacon Hill, the clouds are building up.
Back in the bridleway, a couple are harvesting the abundant sloes, something I must do when I’m home. I content myself with picking blackberries along the way. The trees help shelter me from the frequent showers blown through on the strong wind.
So much for open access.
I change counties.
Then the trail loops away from the Icknield Way into fields with some good cloud formations overhead.
The day is brightened by some rogue sunflowers in a field of maize—memories of France. 
Now descending into Pirton, with its village green, maypole, pub, church, and motte and bailey.
Quintessential England.
Rutted Chalkway.
“Pirton Village Sign, on Great Green, was erected to commemorate Queen Elizabeth II’s Silver Jubilee on 7th June 1977. It is a carved wooden sign depicting hands which are plaiting straw, which was once the local industry.”
The pub comes in handy as a heavy shower arrives, any excuse. Their covered beer garden is perfect for a well-deserved rest and refreshment. 
Green King is popular in these parts, being brewed in Bury-St-Edmunds.
The shower soon passes. Squat St. Mary’s church, standing in the inner bailey of an extensive motte and bailey earthwork at the centre of the village. It has a history dating back to Saxon times, with successive renovations dating back to the 12th century. 
Inside, it is pretty simple, which gives it a refreshingly plain look. 
The motte and bailey are very much overgrown but still discernible. 
Onwards on Hambridge Way, a Mediaeval variation on the Icknield Way. Yes, you’ve guessed it, yet another hedge-lined bridleway.
I arrive on the outskirts of Ickeford with minutes to catch the bus. From 100 yards, I see it sail past, bang on time. That leaves me with an hour to wait for the next one.
I’m glad the church is open, as the next thundery shower arrives. 
St Katharine’s dates back to the C12th. The Nave dates to the mid-12th century, while the Chancel and West tower are from the early 13th century; i.e. it’s pretty old. The church underwent a significant restoration in 1859 under Sir Giles George Gilbert Scott. (Remember him from many other churches and the red phone box)
The local store serves a decent coffee to be enjoyed in the bus shelter during heavier rain, and further helps me pass the time until the bus arrives.
I’m soon in Hitchin, which has a busy, prosperous air. I like it, and there is no difficulty this evening in finding my hotel.
The Sun is an old coaching inn. My room is in the courtyard. 
I have managed to stay dry all day, but looking at the forecast for tomorrow, I may not be so lucky.
*
This is the way to see our country and the remaining details of our ancient and medieval and post medieval history. I think of foreign visitors who probably just zoom up and down the main highways and think they’ve “done” GB. I noticed the padlocked gate with substantial quality strapping – no orange hairy string here in this more affluent part of our heritage.
Come to think about it, I didn’t see any hairy baler twine on this trip. Not many gates in the massive fields. The scenery would be very different pre-harvest. One forgets how close you are to London.
The chalky countryside is lovely to look at in this section.
It is good to follow a chalk path – like a white snake out in front of you.