As I waved Ella off this morning I was mindful of the dark clouds approaching.
The BBC weather website had promised rain coming down in stair rods…
A bit of doubt – but hey, I’m well prepared…
But what happens if the people I meet aren’t very, er…walkamiley?
What happens if I don’t meet anyone?
My mind flew back to that day when I first walked out of Edinburgh.
I had no doubt.
People are fabulous, hospitable, trusting and trustworthy…
The weather report suggested on that day suggested that biblical floods were to be expected – and then the sun shone for 2 weeks.
And, as you well know, people have been fabulous.
No change there, then.
The weather today has been lovely…
I met an older (than me) couple, Ed a friend of his. We chatted – exchanged stories – d’you know, he walked the pennine way in 1977 with no tent and nowhere to stay?
Anyway, he liked the cut of my jib, and £5 was thrust into my hand – ideally for a lager shandy, he said.
On a slight deviation to earlier walkamile behaviour, I thought it would be a great idea to contact the office of the local MP, Hywell Williams.
What a friendly and enthusiastic bunch! Do you know he used to be a mental health social worker?
We’re trying to set up a chat with him – he’s in London until Friday.
So I’m looking forward to that.
I met enthusiastic police support officer lady. To cut a long story short, her enthusiasm for what I’m doing put a bounce in my step.
Then I met the group of 40 something old chaps, old university friends who meet up from time to time – on this occasion to walk the 100 miles around the Llynn peninsula (100 miles?! I thought it was only…back to map reading school for me).
I told them what I was up to – they told me about their friend who’d taken his own life – although he’d had his troubles, it still came as a surprise to them. We talked about self stigma – how embarrassment stops open and frank discussion – how, men especially, when asked how they are almost invariably end up talking about football.
I told them a few walkamile (best said in the same way you used to shout ‘CRACKERJACK’ (ask your parents)) stories, and they collectively thrust £60 into my hands.
In other news – I’m not as fit as I was those months ago, before I got involved in a variety of shenanigans, so I’m not exactly gobbling up the miles.
I’m camping in a site that, er, underlooks the lovely mount Snowden, listening to the radio…
Nothing very different to report…
It’s all rather lovely…
Walk a mile