6,200 steps - that is what it took to walk from home to Millionaires row, back round the estate , past the school , up the river , through Friars Fields garden and home I set out this morning before work with the intention of not walking for an hour but waking as many steps as I could . I had read that if I walked down each and every street in the village , through every alleyway I could clock up a mile walk . So today my plan was to see how far I could get . Lets be fair about this . I never made the hour walk nor did I walk every street . I managed about half the village keeping to the one side and the outer limits . I imagined I could clock up another 6,200 steps if I stepped out in the opposite direction . When we do not expect anything we can be ourselves .Shunayu Suzuki That was the thought for the day I found in the back of my diary. It was hidden away. I had forgotten about my thoughts for the day. I miss them . They used to brighten
My walk started in bright sunshine . I was not sure how long it would last . There were clouds in the sky . Not nice ones . More ominous in character . The sort that herald rain . Our flagstones are arriving today . We dont need rain whilst we unload them and move them out of the way. It was going to be a busy day , It was an odd day 13th August 2021. I write more blogs these days. Prior to Covid I wrote when we did something special . A day out , a stop for coffee, a visit to a garden. Perhaps it was a day at the seaside. I wrote more when Covid hit. Mainly to keep me busy. To give me something to do. I documented my thoughts, my hopes , my frustrations and so it continued until recently when my blogs slowed down.
13th August ten years ago 2011 I wrote my first blog. I did not write about a current holiday but scraped the barrel of my memories and wrote about the first holiday to the United States . Visiting small villages which were called
cities . Witt and Nokomis in Illinois, large cities Chicago, Indianapolis and St Louis. I recalled trips to France in the car. A first drive through the Channel Tunnel. Eating four course lunches, watched kite surfers in La Rochelle. As I walked through the council housing estate I pondered on how our village was divided into three different parts . The council houses had been sold off by Maggie Thatchers government . Most now were privately owned . Our part in the middle was the beginning of the posher end as it was known. A mixture of houses and bungalows. All neat and tidy . As I stepped out from the semi posh end into millionaires row I remember holidays in Venice . Harrys Bar, the vaporettas , the volcano erupting in Iceland .
By 2008 were were travelling through France to Troyes, to Uzes and Carcassonne, Aigues Mortes. We were living in Ruthin in beautiful North Wales . How things changed with the arrival of Suzy Sundance the first motorhome we ever owned . She changed our lives and our holiday habits . Lake Garda, Croatia , Triest , We did the lot spending some of 2012 in
Switzerland . The memories of ten years of blogging back to me. Choosing photographs to upload to the site . That was always a difficult thing. So many to choose from .
I was by now walking amongst six and seven bedroom houses. Three garages . Who needs three garages I thought? All my walking since Covid hit and I have only seen on three garaged house and here it was . A pitch and putt course in the front garden . I had heard the story of the sewage pump which had been part of the consent to build these massive houses . The builder built the station but failed to maintain it . Someone got that wrong the first time it rained . August 2013 - a trip to Blenheim Palace . We were getting used to Suzy . We loved campsites then . Over the years we have moved to more wild camping . I thought that this time two years ago I would be cleaning Gabby and filling her ready for that years trip. This year it looked like another holiday would be cancelled . Covid has a lot to answer for .
