Barling is hardly even a village but is the start of any form of countryside for us here in the SE corner of Essex - hemmed in by the sea to the east and south as we are, we have few options when it comes to constructing a ride. As such, Barling usually figures somewhere on our routes. For some this is a cause for great annoyance - "Not another Barling!", but as Basil Fawlty once said " What do you expect? The Hanging Gardens of Babylon?"
Some mornings though, there can be great pleasure in discovering soemthing new in the familiar. Yesterday was just such a day as I rode through the tracks of Barling by myself not long after 8 am - the sun not long up and a harsh frost still in place. I stopped the bike, something I am usually loathe to do - especially when I can no longer feel my toes and took the photos here.