Walks – Page 2 – I Walk Alone

Homeward bound

Thanks to the blue bin lorry driver’s rather rude and distracting interruption, I never did get round to the final instalment of my epic foggy walk on 11 January. To be honest, I toyed with the idea of leaving it as it was, with me walking through the beautiful misty parks and chatting with the park keeper. The trouble was, I had some wonderfully atmospheric photos I didn’t want to waste, and the area set the scene in both Plagued and Land Fit For Heroes. That area was Northam, and it is well worth a look around.

Percy and the Royal South Hants

On 11 January, I stood on the corner of Lyon Street and Onslow Road in the fog and thought about the best route home. The quickest way was to walk to the end of the road and turn left onto Derby Road and then right onto Mount Pleasant. I was so close to the Royal South Hants Hospital, though, it seemed silly not to see it while I was there. After all, it had played a pivotal role in Land Fit For Heroes, and I could almost imagine Percy running along the road in the dark. Of course, the hospital he would have seen no longer exists — at least, most of it doesn’t.

Bevois Valley in the fog

My foggy walk on 11 January did not end in Dukes Road. Instead, I carried on to Bevois Valley. The area is named after Sir Bevois, who, according to legend, founded the town of Southampton. I’ve written about the story of Sir Bevois before when I explored the Bevois Mount area and its fabulous graffiti, so I won’t repeat myself now. Today, there were other things I wanted to see. Some were connected with my work in progress, some were reminders of Plagued and Land Fit For Heroes, and others were curiosities I wanted to investigate. The fog wasn’t going to make it easy, but I was there, so it was worth a try.

Misty St Denys morning

A cold, damp blanket of fog hung over Southampton on 11 January. As I crossed Cobden Bridge, I heard the haunting sound of distant fog horns and watched a lone gull circling. It felt as if he and I were alone on the river. Of course, we were far from alone, but walking in the fog imparts a feeling of splendid isolation. The water hanging in the air muffles the hum of traffic, and fellow travellers appear, like spectres out of the gloom, then disappear again as soon as they’ve passed. I’d planned to walk along the river, but the lack of visibility made me change my mind. Instead, I thought I might check out a few locations from my work in progress. St Denys was a key feature, so I walked across the bridge.

Peartree Green – fires, bombs and Mother Nature

April 22 was one of those changeable spring days, with heavy skies that could as easily have brought rain as sun. I’d had a mind to walk down to the shore, but I’d been dithering all morning, waiting to see if the rain would come or not. In the end, I decided on a compromise. I would walk to Peartree Green and have a wander around. Then, if the heavens opened, I wouldn’t have too far to go to get home and dry. At least it wasn’t cold. In fact, by the time I’d climbed the steep steps from Braeside Crescent to Gainsford Road, I was boiling in my ‘just in case’ mac. Normally, I walk the other way — along Braeside Road and up the hill, but the view from the top of those horrible steps drew me. A tantalising glimpse of the railway line and Chessel Bay through the trees and beyond the roofs of the houses makes the climb worthwhile.

A short walk on a big hill

On 18 April, Commando decided he wanted to visit Portsdown Hill for some strange reason. In his youth, he said, he used to ride out there on his motorbike all the time. He was surprised to discover I’d never been there because he used to go with all his mates from the pub where we first met. He talked about a pub they used to go to and how there was a car park with a burger van where they’d sit and look at the lights of Portsmouth. It sounded quite nice, and I was a little miffed that I’d never been invited along.

A fresh start

There’s something to be said for starting the day off with a nice walk. When that day also happens to be the first day of a new year, doubly so. It helped that the first day of 2022 dawned crisp and cold, a truly golden start to the year. After all the madness of the last two years, I hoped this was a good omen for the year ahead. I’m fairly sure I wasn’t alone in being tired of all the panic, rumour, conspiracy theories and restrictions at this stage. Commando and I strolled across the Common, admiring the layers of gold, grey and blue through the bare branches of the trees. The wonderful Gareth had already been round putting out his signs and the set up crew were on the flats putting out the poles and chains of the parkrun finish funnel. The sky was the real star of the show though. It looked like being a beautiful morning, which was just as well, because drizzle would have put a dampener on my plans.

Another pandemic Christmas?

Christmas 2021 was a controversial event. The new Omicron variant of COVID had been tearing through the population but the powers that be were divided on what action to take. On one hand, there were loud calls from some for another stringent lockdown. On the other, there was a lot of evidence that the new variant was relatively benign. The result was a combination of confusion and apathy from the general public. The nations of the UK were divided in their approach, which didn’t help with the confusion. Luckily for me, restrictions in England were ruled out before the New Year. Dire warnings were issued by those who disagreed — hospitals would be overwhelmed — millions would die — it would all be the government’s fault. Hyperbole was flying around like Christmas tinsel. As for me, my Christmas morning was spent at Southampton parkrun.

Mud, paint, park runs and fallen leaves

As 2021 drew to a close my outdoor exercise mostly revolved around parkrun. My first Novel, Plagued, was about to be published and almost every waking moment was consumed by proof reading and panic. The empty boating lake and the bare branches of the trees, like ink blown paintings, were a welcome relief. Even so, my head was buzzing with ideas, flitting between Plagued, in 1918 and my work in progress set in 1937, working title The Luck of the Draw. My plan for the morning was to walk up to the Avenue to try to imagine it with tram lines and trams.

Time machine and preparing to launch

Much of March has been taken up with going through edits and checking the manuscript and proof copies of the paperback and kindle version of Land Fit For Heroes. The process is slow, and it feels quite strange to become so intimate again, with a book I began writing in October 2020. So much water has passed under the bridge since then and all the characters have changed and grown in the subsequent books, it feels a little like stepping into a time machine. Combined with the decidedly peculiar weather (we had snow last week for heaven’s sake), my walking has been curtailed somewhat. Despite all this, I did manage a couple of short walks that didn’t involve just going up the hill for milk.

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