One of my favourite walks is the six-mile (well, ish) hike from Heath Road East in Petersfield, out to Latchetts Copse, with a big circle along quiet, dusty, shady lanes taking you through the historically-named ‘Quebec.’

It’s a favourite as I used to live within yards of its start on Peter Caine’s Heath Farm, and could get up early, pull on walking boots, haul my two sons out of bed, shout to the dog – and be away.

Today my teenage boys are into Xbox and girlfriends, my irreplaceable Labrador, Bruno, is deceased and I now live the other side of East Meon.

Time and tide wait for no man, or teenagers glued to their mattress, so it was a walk for one this time around.

Starting at the stile between Rival Moor Road and the two farm cottages at the Sussex Road end of Heath Road East, cut across the pasture, often full of black and white Friesian cows contentedly chewing the cud.

Pass by the cowman’s cottage in the middle of the field, climb over a farm track and stile into a meadow – just ten minutes from Petersfield town centre, you are in the quiet heart of farmed countryside.

Follow the path to the far corner and into the next field with its clumps of marsh grass, cross an ancient – but still sound – brick-built cartbridge over a tributary of the River Rother, up a slight rise and climb another stile.

This takes you into a field-locked expanse of grazing running east to west, with woodland on its southern side.

The grazing can only be found on foot or by tractor. In spring it’s often full of lambs, and has been described as ‘a proper Hampshire field’.

Cross it diagonally into the next field. Now this, for me, is a ‘proper’ Hampshire field!

And it was here I was lucky enough to see fox cubs rough and tumbling on the edge of the golden corn one warm spring day.

Their mother, a glossy red-coated vixen, sunbathed nearby while lazily keeping an eye on her rolling, nipping, stalking offspring – until she caught my scent on the warm breeze.

Then they were gone, blending into a hedge until they disappeared.

The path takes you along the hedge and on to the next field, on the right Latchett’s Copse – and a towering pylon, the wind over the high cables creating a faint hum.

Go through Latchett’s Copse, out on to a lane, turn left, walk for about 20 yards and on your right you’ll see another pylon beside Goff’s Plantation, a small woodland.

Every winter the ground below the pylon is muddy, and imprinted with animal spoor –badger, deer, rabbit, geese, duck, seagull and pheasant footprints fill it, and it’s well worth a visit. You can often see deer or pheasants in the huge fields.

Back on the lane, follow it through Ryefields, with its stunning views across Durlieghmarsh to the north, and from there turn right at every junction – they are clearly marked.

The second leg of your lane ramble takes you past Tom Roake’s Row – it looks just like any other field to me, so whatever Tom’s Row was, I haven’t a clue – and up to the three-house hamlet that is Quebec, on the Hampshire-Sussex border.

Once believed to be part of nearby Manor Farm, one lovely flint 18th-century house is named Quebec Cottage.

But why call it, and the hamlet, after a Canadian city?

Back in the 1700s, Quebec was a busy place, the setting for battles and treaties, with fortunes being made – and the singularity of the name alone means there must be some connection between Quebec, Canada, and Quebec Harting, surely?

Perhaps its owner made his money during turbulent times in ther Canadian city and returned to enjoy a 'country squire'life, naming his home after the well-spring of his good fortune. Looking across to the north, the fields full of sheep, you could almost be on the Yorkshire Moors.

Go right again down past Manor Farm and Goose Green, and back to Latchett’s Copse and retrace the path home. Jon Walker