It was never going to be a fair race – I was walking about 13 miles – Ella was driving, er, more.
The goal was Scotland’s most Southerly point – the Mull of Galloway.
I had gently rolling hills.
Ella had the M6….then some.
Some while back we’d agreed that 2 weeks on the road followed by a long weekend jolly was the way to keep hearts, souls, bodies and minds together.
I’d been with Ella for about a month (give or take) prior to this part of the ramble and, even though it had been a sad occasion, we’d been spoilt with each others company, japery, banter and all round love stuff.
The two weeks on the road, although jam packed with all kinds of walk a miley stuff, by the Wednesday before she came up I was like a young child waiting for the arrival of Santa.
I was so excited I could burst.
I’d convinced myself that Ella’s drive – my walk would come together as I reached the lighthouse at Scotland’s south bit….
Whereas I had nothing to inhibit my journey, Ella gave me regular updates of tailbacks and traffic nonsense.
If this had been Top Gear I’d have been Janes May on a penny farthing – Ella, the Hamster in a Ferrari….
13 miles vs 400.
I went to the cafe – chatted to a whole bunch of folk and fidgeted. My mind was elsewhere.
Elsewhere with the woman without whom Walk a Mile couldn’t happen. The woman who has more faith and belief in me than me – the woman, well, who floats my boat.
I stared out of the cafe window for a time – then I sat outside watching the cows…
She’ll be here soon…she’ll be here soon..
A car came in the twilight….is it…is it…?
All I could think about was the smiling face – the hug – the excited jabbering from both of us.
Finally, some headlights flashing at me up the hill – through the suicidal cows…
I spent the weekend packaging up smiles and all that lovely stuff for later on…for those lonely times on the road where a laugh or a hug or a silly comment is just the thing to keep me bowling along.
Even then it’s over all to soon. Not to worry, we can start plotting our next jolliday soon.
Ella – I love her
Sorry to gush, but really, it’s my blog I can do what I want.
Walk a mile