Day 66 or clickety click as they say in the bingo halls . It is Monday and a bank holiday . It feels no different to any other day . When you are partially retired the week has a totally different meaning and feel. 66 days since March. That is 1584 hours of my life that has disappeared and I won't get them back . 1584 hours of travel . Of seeing new places . 66 days don't mean as much when you are younger but as you get older you value every day more . Every day when you don't achieve something feels a day wasted . And all hours wasted . And so many minutes and seconds gone . Dripped away slowly like grains of sand . We overlay this morning. No reason to get up. A hurried breakfast and then setting out . The world had woken up . The man with his whippets was out as I walked across the playing field . The sun was shining . It promised to be a lovely sunny Spring Day. With May almost finished we are heading into real Summer and June is just around the corner . A plane
flew overhead in a clear blue sky . It sounded like a demented wasp as it circled above me. Once it had flown off I could hear the sound of strings against a ball . A lone tennis player was on the court constantly serving to no-one . Just practicing and then retrieving his tennis balls and starting again . Two ladies talked. I headed down Hill House Lane . An elderly lady came out of the field , shouted good morning to me and headed down the hill . I wondered which way she would go . A choice of three lanes . Would she choose straight ahead or turn to the left or right .Whichever she did I would chose another .
She headed straight on passing two cars already parked up. No doubt dog walkers giving themselves and their pets a work out. We are going up and I promise it is only a slight gradient but up Pearces Lane . An older man with a dog approaches . I think he is walking on the wrong side . Surely we were all taught to walk in the direction of on coming traffic so that we
could dive in the ditch if the cars forced us off the road . We exchanged a good morning as he forced me over to the other side . The Jack by the Hedge has turned to seed . It spiky seedheads will dry soon and drop the seeds ready to grow next year . The tiny cream wild roses have started to blossom. So much more delicate that the cultivated roses and with such a subtle smell . As I walked I pondered lockdown and felt angry . I was venting my frustration with every step . Why is there one rule for us and one rule for them ? Us being the normal public who have been told to stay in and protect ourselves and the health service . Them being people in authority . Up to now a couple of high ranking officials have had to resign for breaking lockdown . But the latest episode in the story of the Prime Ministers Adviser has reached Dallas like proportions .
By now I had reached Stubbing Pond and started the climb up the hill. I walked into the darkness of the dappled shade of the trees .Two
cars were parked up - oddly old ones and I wondered if they knew each other . Had both come to this spot to walk together ? A lady walked towards me with a large camera . She was followed by her husband. I had passed more people today which I guessed was understandable . I wondered if they were thinking about Boris on TV last night . Of his speech that he gave us telling us his thoughts . Did they feel as angry as I had listening to it or had it gone over their heads ? How could we be treated without any respect ? Thump Thump went my feet. We are all in this together but not Dominic Cummings . By the time I had got to the top of the hill I could see a runner coming towards me . He wore a welsh T shirt . He had his head down . He was not moving for me nor anyone . Again I wanted to tell him he should look where he was going . I shouted across to him that I was surprised to see his welsh dragon . He ignored me. I realised that not only was he intent on his running , watching his shoes and the road but he had his earphones in and could hear nothing . Not me and nor any cars coming the other way .
Finally reaching the main road I headed towards home gently simmering. My walk had been lovely but events not so lovely in the political world of Corona virus . Who would have thought I would feel consumed with irritation at Boris not just for this but for the way he was handling the pandemic . The local pub has offered to sell fresh bread, cakes and croissants . Ring them place an order and pick up after 9.30 Perhaps I will order some tomorrow .
Arriving home I sat with a coffee and a cinnamon ring imagining I was drinking it in a nice Italian piazza or in a french leafy square beneath the plane trees . One day perhaps that might actually come true and I will find myself drinking that coffee or Aperol Spritz . 200 miles or more of walking clocked up so how far have I walked now on my virtual walking tour ? . I have arrived at the Tunnel Entrance - where will my walking tour take me now ?
Tot: 0.027s; Tpl: 0.015s; cc: 8; qc: 23; dbt: 0.0055s; 1; m:saturn w:www (188.8.131.52); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb