walks

  • Adventures in success

    I made my own path to Wimbledon and back. Got to keep moving through the aches and pains. Calves, shins, hamstrings, soles. I stopped only for water and Fridge Raiders chicken from a Tesco. It’s still hot but there are more clouds today, thank God.

    I get back and I down a Ramune in bed. From inside I smell petrichor it’s unreal, so I flip open a deckchair and sit in the garden, praying for rain, then the heavens open. The sky is piercing bright, I close my eyes, honeycomb orange. Loud music in my ears, I have ideas. The rain relents, a cat coming and going. My T-shirt is damp now, but I’m going to stick around.

  • Night walks

    Night walks

    There are people in the distance. For a few seconds I can’t tell which direction they’re walking in — towards me or away. I’m often the first to cross the road to avoid proximity. If we’re going in the same direction and I begin to catch up with them, I’ll slow down. Not necessarily because of Covid; I just don’t want to be seen when I’m on my night walks.

    Every night after work I pound the pavements in my bubble in north London like a flâneur. Work tends to finish around midnight. This is my latest lockdown obsession. 

    Sometimes I change the route, discover a new street, a house for sale, a dead end. I watch the empty Tube train going over the bridge (the Northern line is the loudest). I’m followed by a friendly fox. I pick up the pace when it’s uphill, I slow it down when it gets too hot under my coat. I put my head down when cars approach. I never look at my phone.

    I see the allotments with waiting lists that go on for years. I see the stained glass windows, the front doors, and the houses owned by other people.

  • Walk of life

    Walk of life

    A few months after moving into our house in north London, I stumbled upon the Dollis Valley Greenwalk. It was a rainy Monday. I don’t mind the rain, I welcome it. It makes for a quieter walk, and when I do cross paths with other walkers they tend to be alone like me.

    Recently I took two friends on the journey, and when it started to rain they wanted to get the bus home. I wasn’t happy.

    It was a similarly wet day when I set out on my walk yesterday, alone again. The Dollis Valley Greenwalk winds from Mill Hill through Barnet to the Hampstead Heath Extension. I join the ten-mile trail in Finchley and tend to continue into Hampstead Heath.

    My walk takes in rivers, woodland, playgrounds, suburban gardens with summer houses, and a dual carriageway. I see how the other half live when I go down the mansion-lined street along the Hampstead Extension.

    My legs are weary but these walks occupy my mind and remind me of what’s important. As England is placed into a new lockdown, it helps to see the wood for the trees.