I went into the center of Oxford yesterday to run some errands and test out my new shoes. It was a very successful day with some banking, book buying (Blackwell’s bookshop is a very happy, amazing, labyrinth of books I can lose myself for days in), package mailing, tea and caking (new verb I made up), and soaking up the beauty that is Oxford. Most importantly, my feet were happy weaving around the tourists and students, and navigating curbs and busy streets. I even managed to shelter from a very sudden deluge after hopping off the bus under one of the bridges on Cuckoo Lane that I was using as a short cut. So I’m hopeful and feeling good.
I really do need to get back on the trail because sitting around watching good tv, eating delicious food and having a cup of tea brought to me each morning (thank you Jordan!) is making me soft I fear! Actually, I’m not really kidding because while my feet are feeling better, there are other silly little ailments that I’m used to bothering me at home, but have NOT on the trail (backache, tummy unsettledness, stiffness in the morning, headaches, etc etc) that are reappearing with this more sedentary life. I know one can’t always, and often shouldn’t, push through warnings from the body to be careful or make changes - heck, I took a week off to heal my blisters! - but I’m learning that maybe there’s nuance to my body’s signaling, and sometimes the answer is to be patient, stay the course, and keep moving. My nature leans towards less activity, but my body seems to need a bit more. Walking is good for it.
So after a final farewell dinner with the Raffs, and the opportunity of a book club with dear friends back in California since I had good internet one more night (we read ‘Raising Hare’, it’s very good, I strongly recommend), I had an excellent night’s sleep and woke up this morning ready, but sad, to say goodbye to Rachel and Jordan. Time to hit the trail again.
Backpack loaded up, I walked to catch a bus to the train station, took the train to Manchester, changed to a smaller one to head up into the Peak District, and 5 hours later alighted at the best named village ever: Hope.
I am fascinated more than ever now by times and methods of journeying: how much terrain can you cover walking in 5 hours? What do you see, smell, touch? Who do you talk to? How about in a car or bus? And the speed and miles covered in a train blows my mind. How differently does the land look? What do you hear, see, smell, touch on a train? What goes through your mind traveling at different speeds? How do you pass the time while your body is moving forward?
Bill is joining me here, jet lagged a bit as he just flew into Heathrow this morning and immediately hopped on the train north. Talk about some serious speed and distance covered! We’ll be here (specifically in the neighboring village of Castleton) for a few days while we both get better prepared to walk the big hills of the Pennine Way. We start that on Tuesday; but for now we get to enjoy the walks and pubs and caves of the northern Peaks around Castleton and Hope.
