It should have been about five miles but I, as is typical, got lost in some modern estate on the way to Corsham and added a mile to the trot. This actually worked to my advantage since the Flemish Weaver did not open until 11 am and the extra distance put me in front of it at 11:05. I ordered a London Pride and chatted to the African helper while the barlady filled a Doom Bar glass with it.
The weather was perfect –cool and sunny with a bit of a breeze — and the town was relatively abandoned it being so early on a Saturday. I suspect the town can be lively with tourists and shoppers (the stores stink of high mark-ups) but the Weaver seems friendly enough and beautifully ancient on the inside. However, I had miles to go this day and needed to push on with the rest of the planned run(s).