This was yesterday, Day 1 of my Scottish Holiday. I'd reached the Stamford Caravan Club site - which is actually at Fineshade, in the countryside to the south-west. By four o'clock I was nicely ensconced. It was still a lovely warm, sunny afternoon, so I set forth into the adjacent woodland. The Forestry Commission were clearly very keen to encourage not only walking and biking, but also Gruffalo Orienteering.
I wasn't very familiar with the Gruffalo, believing him to be merely a kind of friendly monster found in children's books. I now know that the Gruffalo (introduced to the world in 1999 by Julia Donaldson) was an altogether darker and scarier proposition.
The original story had a mouse wandering in a forest, who encounters a series of animals who want to eat him. He scares them off by claiming to be a chum of the fierce Gruffalo, who loves to eat the very creatures who are threatening the little mouse. They all let him go, not wanting to offend his fierce friend. By and by, and to his consternation, the mouse actually bumps into the Gruffalo - whom he thought was just a figment of his own imagination. And the Gruffalo wants to eat him too. The quick-thinking mouse makes out that despite his tiny size he is a force to be reckoned with, and can prove it by taking the Gruffalo to see the animals already encountered. They of course run for their lives, which convinces the Gruffalo that he ought to do the same. And so the mouse survives.
I'm sure all little children love the Gruffalo, and aren't the slightest bit scared of him, not really. I certainly saw no reason for caution, and set forth into the wood without a care, although I was warned by a notice of a 'Gruffalo Statue' lurking somewhere.
I snapped my fingers at that. Ha, I thought. It can only be some flimsy plastic creation, wafting in the breeze; nothing I need worry about. How wrong I was.
I wasn't going to make this a long walk, and after half a mile I was ready to turn around and go back. But a side-track looked intriguing, and since the afternoon was still fine and sunny, I ventured down it. And immediately my FitBit vibrated on my wrist, telling me that I'd got 10,000 steps in that day, despite spending four hours in the car on the way up to Stamford. I ventured a bit further, and, around a bend, a glade came into view. And there stood a Gruffalo. I'd stumbled upon the statue. It was in fact a carved and painted tree-trunk, but nicely done, and amply imposing and awe-inspiring to any child. I got some pictures.
Mind you, it could be that, if one did manage to make friends with the Gruffalo, he'd keep one safe. As you can see, I tried my best:
