As soon as I left the shade of the woods and stepped out into the sun on the shore I could feel the heat. The sun seemed to be searing my skin even though I’d slathered on the cream before I left home. There is no shade along the promenade unless you duck into one of the little beach shelters but I couldn’t just stay sat in one of them until nightfall so I set off along the shore, thankful that there was at least a cooling breeze blowing up from the water.
22 July 2014
It was just over a third of a mile to the first beach shelter And I told myself I would stop there, eat my chocolate treat and drink some of my water. To take my mind off the heat I looked at the plants growing on the foreshore. Some jolly looking candy striped convolvulus made me smile but mostly it was cow parsley going to seed and dried out flowering grasses. If I stayed still too long I felt as if I’d end up desiccated too so I marched on relishing the waves of air as they came.
The only colour came from the sea, the sky and the odd patch of yarrow and knapweed. Finally I made it to the shelter where dog roses were making the most of the shade and flowering without danger of turning instantly into dried flowers. On the beach close by some people were sunbathing and playing loud music so I decided to walk on to the next shelter for a little peace.
About a tenth of a mile further on the next shelter was occupied by a young family so on I plodded. By the time I reached the next one I’d talked myself into carrying on to the trees right at the end of the promenade reasoning that, if I stopped, I might be tempted to turn back. Difficult walks always seem to be me telling myself, “just a little further and then you can rest.”
There was an Ice cream van at the car park just before the trees. A cooling ice cream seemed like a great idea but I reminded myself I couldn’t out exercise a bad diet and passed by. Thankfully I sank onto the bench and watched a man preparing to take a canoe out onto the water while I sipped water and fiddled about in my bag for chocolate. Surprisingly it hadn’t melted.
By the time the chocolate was eaten and the man had rowed off I’d talked myself into walking as far as the stream. At least I would be sheltered by the trees and there and back would add a third of a mile to my total for the month. The stream runs down from West Wood, pouring fresh water into the salt. Toadflax and teasels were flowering along the edge. I loved the way the teasel flowers looked against the blue of the sky. It seemed like a riot of colour after all the dried grasses. The cool water looked inviting and I briefly considered taking off my shoes and dipping my hot feet.
Of course I couldn’t stay in the shade forever and, reluctantly, I turned back, looking at the baking shore spread out ahead of me. Still, the breeze was in my face on the way back. Well, it was until I got the the sailing club at Woolston. The masts of the ships were singing gently as the wind ran through them and wild flowers enjoyed the shade beneath them. Amongst all the hawkweed and yarrow I spotted star like St John’s wort.
After this fences and buildings sheltered me from the breeze and I quickly realised the shore wasn’t nearly as hot as I’d thought it was. Up through Woolston I plodded with stinging sweat trickling into my eyes. Rather than climb the steps under the Itchen Bridge I decided to take the longer route close to the shore. It might take longer but it would be cooler.
When I came to the little slipway gulls were cooling their feet in the water and, once more, I wondered if I should stop and do the same. I didn’t though. Instead I settled for a picture of deep red rose hips and carried on. The Yacht Pub on the corner was another temptation with its parasols and cheery hanging baskets. It took some doing to walk past and forgo a cool glass of diet coke with chinking ice cubes. I could almost taste it.
Climbing the grassy hill up onto the green was nearly the finish of me. At the top I took the low trail through the long grass rather than climb any further. This runs right beside the railway line and it wasn’t long before I could hear the rails whistling to tell me a train was coming. It occurred to me that this would be a very pleasant place for train spotters, far better than standing on bridges with cameras at the ready. They could even set up deck chairs. In fact I was surprised not to see any.
It was far too hot to think too much about the wild flowers or the insects around me. All my energy and willpower was taken up putting one foot in front of the other and wiping the sweat from my eyes. Just before I reached the ribbon of woodland I did stop to look at some chicory. It’s quite an unusual sight so it was worth the stop.
On the other side of the woods it was back to streets and houses where the heat was almost unbearable. As I emerged from the small side streets to the larger roads the smell of Tarmac almost knocked me down. Workmen were resurfacing the steep hill to the village. Work appeared to be going very slowly but I can’t say I blame them for their lethargy. How they coped with the boiling Tarmac, hard hats and thick high vis jackets is beyond me. Their efforts made my seven and a half miles pale into insignificance. They deserve a medal.
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