The Roman sausage trail

I made it back safe and sound from Shetland, eventually. A swift turnaround at home and I was back at work within an hour, and within a very short period of time it felt as though I had hardly been away at all. Essentially a quiet day and it was over quickly, thank god. Taking time to reflect I had thoroughly enjoyed my time at the Northern most point of the British Isles, I didn't know what I expected but the reality was far better than anything I could have imagined. The bleak isolation of Unst and Yell struck a chord with me, in particular the beach at Norwick.

The whole sausage trail thing is more real to me now. I have met people already that I have managed to connect through my quest for sausages, a subject a little obscure but inoffensive a great ice-breaker. I genuinely do have an affection for sausages, for food in general but sausages in particular. Today has thrown a couple of new ideas into my path, thanks John-Boy, and I realise that to maintain momentum on my sausage sojourn I need to keep writing and in order to do that I need things to write about.

The first thing to do is to rearrange the calendar to reflect a more realistic approach to the whole affair and to book a trip into Naples in the near future with Emma. That was the other thing, the importance of the Roman Empire in the popularisation of the sausage, especially as a mainstay comfort food of the working classes. Naples will happen in due course but in the mean time walking a section of Stane Street, the old Roman road connecting Chichester with London has been suggested, again thanks John-Boy, potentially with the goal of a pub somewhere close by with a bountiful supply of sausage related tasty goodness, The White Horse Inn in (?) Petworth for example would be perfect. On the way I have it on good authority that the route will encompass paths that command spectacular views of the South Downs, I look forward to it immensely.