Sometimes being lost is the best place to be. Where was I? The valley below offered a herd of cattle and a winding road. I accepted. A pair of bubbling becks kept me company, and three cattle grids later, I reached a farm. No one about. A blackcap singing in a willow drew me to a gate. I climbed it. And that is how I found the moat. The willow grew on the side of a deep gully. No naturally occurring ghyll this. I followed it a little way and saw that the ravine curved itself artfully round a raised mound. I reached for my map.