Great day, only two tough parts, but the BEST part was the end - welcomed by my host Karen who ran a bath with epsom salts & lavender for me, and while I soaked in the bubbles prepared a delicious salmon dinner. We met through a home exchange website, and this is what I love most about traveling: making friends across the world, conversations, sharing, learning from others’ experiences, broadening viewpoints. I can get so caught up in my little bubble, especially these days with AI crafting a world to my comfort; I need this infusion of ways of living that I otherwise would not know about.
My day started having another interesting chat with the woman cleaning the pub about our experiences visiting Belfast. I was waiting for the community bus as they advertised they needed riders during this trial period or the service would go defunct, so I took the little shuttle a mile to the next village. The people on the bus were great, and the bus driver so sorry he couldn’t take me further but he was going in a different direction than I was. I reiterated that was the point, I am supposed to be walking. The whole bus (just three people really) cheered and wished me well when I hopped off. I think they thought I was nuts.
Today was mostly spent on Bristol’s Community Forest Path, a circuit around the countryside outside the city. In places it is clearly marked and well maintained. In others not so much. The path goes through forests, across grazing fields and meadows, on a few roadways of varying busy-ness, fancy old estates and even a golf course. It also crosses the the Clifton Suspension Bridge, built in 1864 it sits 245ft above the River Avon (very low tide when I walked across), and the site of the first bungee jump in 1979 (thanks Wikipedia!). The day was happily more “English” in weather, darker, cooler, breezier, even a little spitting of rain at one point, and then the sun came out just as I arrived at my destination. First day in a week I didn’t need my sunglasses!
Everything was going smoothly until I came to a field with four horses. The path went right through the middle, but of course that was the position of the horses. I skirted around the edge, longer walk but less alarming to them. They saw me, they stared, ears twitching. I made it, and the next field had sheep. Phew. Squeezing through the kissing gate to the next field, not easy with the backpack, there were four more horses. In the middle. So was the path. Buoyed by the previous horse encounter, I started to the side edge. This time though the closest one didn’t just watch me, but started walking towards me. Then walked faster. Then trotted.
An aside - this journey has been great for my body and my respect for what it can do, and it’s been great for my curiosity and brain learning about new things, but it has not generally been a trip of peace and reflection. I am on edge and anxious a lot of the time, solidly aware of and on the lookout for danger. At least I’m learning about my reaction to things and how to best manage anxiety. In the past I have moaned and avoided, but now I just have to do the thing.
So, the horse. She stopped about 100 yards from me. I was still walking, as quickly but calmly as I could. She started whinnying, moving her head up and down. I don’t know a lot about horses, but I could tell she was pretty agitated. I heard myself say something like, “easy girl, it’s okay”, and I heard it in the best English accent I could approximate. Somehow I instinctually thought that might help?! Anyway, I kept walking, I noticed the other three horses start walking my way too. But then she stopped all the bother, went back to grazing, and I got out of that field fast. There are no photos of the horses. But they were pretty. I did get a picture of the red deer in Ashton Park. They seemed pretty uninterested in me.
The next big challenge was major roadworks happening that disrupted the Community Pathway. I ended up getting lost in crazily overgrown paths, found myself on the wrong side of a creek, couldn’t find the route out, but knew I was close because I could hear a road. And then I stumbled upon a nice man rolling a cigarette beside the creek. He obviously lives in the hidden brambles and trees of the creek area and is living rough (homeless to those folks in the US). I wasn’t frightened my him, I think I startled him more. I probably should be more cautious around strangers (especially in remote forests), but I just can’t and won’t be overly suspect; I believe most people are good and deserve respect and kind conversation, despite what they might look like. He gave me clear instructions on how to get back to the correct path, and told me that if I get lost again there are three guys living in a caravans by the railway overpass, “traveler types, gypsies ya know. They look gruff, but are good people. They’ll help you. I’ve known them for years.” I found my way out, and sadly never got the chance to meet the travelers.
One absolute highlight was walking down Pitch & Pay Lane (named for the times of the Plague when the street was the border of Bristol; the plague infested city dwellers would come to the wall to receive goods pitched over the wall by the country folk and they would toss payment back), and I smelled the most amazing clematis flowers. A cyclist rode by (he’s in the photo), and as I continued walking I saw him flying his arms up and down and soaring his way down the quiet lane with utter joy. It was infectious and I laughed out loud as I made my way after him at my slow pace.
