Inky

Being an unseasonably warm day, I decided to have my lunch outside in the sunshine today.

I was quite enjoying my salad and was deep in thought, when I caught the whiff of cigarette smoke in my nostril. This would usually infuriate me, but I was in quite a good mood so I ignored it and returned to wherever it was my mind had turned to. Then I heard, from the direction of the smoke, what sounded like a pair of lungs being coughed up in the last throes of bronchial pneumonia. I looked up to see what appeared to be a tramp sitting on the next bench. I ignored him for a while until he stood up and approached me.

He asked if I had a mobile phone. He had already seen me browsing on my Blackberry, so I could hardly deny it, and so replied with a hesitant yes. To be fair, he didn’t look like a mugger or a knife wielding phone thief, but I was still reluctant to engage with him. He then sat down next to me and asked if I could phone someone for him. My immediate thought was to make my apologies and leave, or to make the phone call quickly and get the episode over and done with. But then, as he handed me a crumpled scrap of paper with his friend’s misspelt name and phone number (minus STD code, old school) and explained that he was waiting for his friend to pick him up but that the friend was late, a wave of sympathy washed over me. This wasn’t a wretched old, booze-soaked tramp, trying to scam money off me for his next drink. This was a genuinely confused and helpless old man who had just seen better days. He told me his name was Inky and that my lunch looked nice. He asked if I worked locally and if I was enjoying the sunshine. I made that call to his friend and spent a pleasant five minutes in Inky’s company until he was safely on his way.

I reflected later on how sad it is that society has conditioned us to be wary of strangers, or indeed anyone who looks a little worse for wear or somehow different. We drill Stranger Danger into our kids from the day they are born, and are then surprised that they grow up to not trust anyone. I could quite easily have snubbed Inky and left him waiting on that bench not knowing whether or not his friend would turn up. Indeed that was my initial instinct. Others in society would have taunted him or, worse, inflicted physical violence upon him, just for not looking right. 

I’m glad I helped Inky out of his predicament today and, at the risk of sounding a bit Thought For the Day, I hope that as a result I might be a bit less wary and judgemental in similar situations in future.

Celebrating 40 years of the Offa's Dyke Path

Last night I made the short journey over the Severn Bridge to the Drill Hall in Chepstow, where there was a party to celebrate the 40^th anniversary of the Offa’s Dyke Path. I was lucky enough to walk the path in 1982 (southern section) and 1984 (northern section) and so along I went with my faded photographs and moth-eaten 1982 vintage T-shirt to share my memories with like-minded souls.

It was a very pleasant evening. The food was great, the band (Shootin’ the Crow) were excellent and there were interesting displays celebrating not only Offa’s Dyke Path, but National Trails in general. There was a table for people to spread out their own photos from when they walked the walk and this proved to be the focal point for folks to get together and swap tales.

One lady said to me that she’d heard someone claim that walking a long-distance trail could be a life changing experience and that, on reflection, she thought that was probably true. I would agree. Walking Offa’s Dyke when I was only 18 certainly had a lasting impact on me, and the friends I walked it with.

Hillfort at Pandy

We were pretty much fresh out of school when we did the southern half. None of us were really experienced walkers, we just liked doing mad, crazy things. We didn’t have a lot of money, we didn’t even have a tent. We slept in plastic bivvy bags! But the memories of the walk live on vividly with me. Pretending, Pythonesque, to be knights on horseback for the “ride” to White Castle; sleeping in an ancient hill fort above Pandy; crossing the Black Mountains in wilting heat, and having to quench our thirst with wild berries, after one of our group had poured all the water away because it was too heavy; the Mike Oldfield inspired pilgrimage to Hergest Ridge; the fear of heights kicking in on Llangollen aqueduct; the overwhelming sense of achievement on arrival in Prestatyn that prompted us to walk straight into the sea. Memorable? Clearly, but life changing? Well, yes.

Chirk Castle

One of our group met his future wife in Monmouth on the walk and courted her by regularly cycling up from Portsmouth to the Wye Valley to see her.  They later ran the pub in Llandogo. Nearly 20 years later I bought a house in Redbrook and my children still live there. I celebrated my 40^th at Llanthony Priory – I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d rather spend my birthday. I returned to Llanthony this Easter, walking up from Pandy, and the view down the valley to the Priory was still as breathtaking as ever. And walking the trail instilled in me a longing to walk other trails, a longing which has taken me (on foot, of course) to some wonderful places around the world, such as the Annapurnas, the Inca Trail and Albania’s Pindos Mountains.

40th Birthday Celebrations at Llanthony

The same lady also commented that you didn’t see many youngsters walking our national trails these days. I find that sad. Walking Offa’s Dyke was such an important part of growing up for me. It taught me about looking out for my mates and about overcoming adversity. And it taught me to appreciate how lucky we are to live in a country where such wonderful trails are accessible to all. 

Finally a mention for the people at National Trails who are doing such a great job promoting Offa’s Dyke and the other National Trails, including the newly launched All Wales Coast Path, which looks amazing, and also a plug for the 38 Degrees “Save Our Countryside” petition, which I would urge everyone to sign to prevent the government bringing in changes to the planning system which could threaten our National Trails as well as the network of local footpaths and other greenfield areas.

Waiting for the internet of things

Apparently the next big thing is going to be the "internet of things". Well at least according to Russell M. Davies on the BBC today (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-15018894).

He fondly recalls, as do I, Geocities and the early days of Facebook. I had a great Geocities site and they went and closed it down.

Mr Davies claims that blogging is now a bit old hat.

Well all the more reason for me to start blogging, so here goes.

I have no idea what's going to appear on here, but hopefully it will be interesting, thought provoking and, most important of all, a bit random.

As Clay Shirky says in the BBC article: "creating something personal, even of moderate quality, has a different kind of appeal to consuming something made by others, even of high quality".

He's got a very good point.