This is a short note I received from a man in his late ’60’s/ early ’70’s who I met on the cycle path on my way to Bangor when he pinged the bell of his bike as he came up behind me.
Instead of cycling on, he walked with me for the next mile or so.
We talked about all things mental healthy, what I was up to, his life and his world.
Every so often he’d apologise for talking so much – each time I had to laugh – I’m smiling now as I remember – telling him I was delighted to hear his stories and that this was what my walk was all about.
When it came time to part, he rifled through his pockets – he wanted to give me something for my lunch further along the road – only to find he was wearing the wrong trousers.
I told him not to worry, and that I’d enjoyed his company, and that the walk was more about the people I meet rather than donations.
He was determined though – so I gave him Ella’s address should he feel the urge…this is the letter he sent…
If you can’t quite read it, it says,
I walked a mile with you the other day near llanfairfechan.
I offered to buy you lunch, then found I had no cash on me.
Please accept cheque for £5 to cover that lunch.
Walk a Mile