Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
The driver headed down a cramped back alley lined with rubbish bins and deposited me in
front of an unpromising garage. I was hesitant, I had low expectations for this accommod-
ation, but how wrong I was! Inside, the garage had been converted Scandinavian style into
two luxurious and light bedroom suites. There was a delicious cake waiting for us as well.
Life was looking up! Our cramped ride in the luggage van had taken so long that very shortly
my walking companions joined me and, after comparing foot injuries, we decided to explore
Grosmont. The town is remarkable for its North York Moors steam railway, so we whiled
away some time sitting on the 1950s style platform, watching the avuncular engines belch
out sighs of steam and smoke. No matter for now that the trains were adding to the carbon
footprint, it was particularly pleasurable to be there and enjoy the spectacle. We felt again
that we had gone back in time, to an age of optimism and enthusiasm. A walking holiday,
we realized, makes you more than tourists, observers; we weren't really part of the environ-
ment, but we did form close connections with the places we'd visited.
Dinner that evening was enormously satisfying! It was the last we were to share with our
fellow walkers and was held, suitably enough, in the Station Hotel. We had become intim-
ate in eclectic ways. We recognized one another by their gait and rhythm when walking, we
knew the state of their feet, the color and contents of their backpacks, we knew how much
water they drank, if they became falsely cheerful or taciturn when tired. We'd learned some
poignant bits and pieces of their stories; one had a child who would never grow up; another
mourned the loss of a life partner; one had walked through the night to do her part to ex-
tinguish the blare of breast caner; another was marking time to retirement; there was a fath-
er being treated for cancer; a relative who had spent their last few days in a hospice; there
were struggles with mental illness, chronic disease, and disappointment; but most of all after
our time together we knew they were all good people trying hard to shape their lives for
good and to live them exuberantly. The taste of this was even better than the fish and chips,
Wainwright's favorite—and ordered in his honor—together with the buxom blonde ale that
washed them down well.
Search WWH ::
Custom Search