Windy City walking

12 April 2015

The Sunday walk was dictated by the fact that it was Philo’s birthday. What with the adventure at Eton and Windsor, the change of shift and then the Easter weekend it was the first chance I’d had to get his present. Of course I knew exactly what I was going to get, I just hadn’t had time to go and get it. So, the plan was to walk into town and back, killing two birds with one stone. It was a beautiful day for it, or so it seemed.

It was a little breezy but the sky was blue with a few wispy clouds and the sun was shining. In my wisdom I decided I’d start with the Itchen Bridge and come back over the Big Bridge, Commando’s two bridge challenge in reverse. At the top of the Little Hill in Freemantle Common there was a fuzz of green on the trees, new leaves just bursting out to go with the daffodils brightening the grass.

On Peartree Green the pear tree was in flower. It was planted in the 1950’s in the exact spot where the ancient pear tree once stood. The original tree was struck by lightening but still carried on bearing prodigious amounts of fruit and the area was named for it. It looks like the new one is going to bear fruit this year too. While I was looking at the tree I noticed the clouds looked a bit odd, kind of swirly and twisted. Maybe it was the breeze that seemed to be getting stronger.

Soon I was in the shelter  of the trees along Sea Road and the wind was more or less forgotten. My mind wandered to the church on the green and the story of Richard Parker and I thought about making a detour but decided against it. Time was of the essence after all. Commando was out on a ten mile run and, once I’d bought the presents, we were going to visit Philo.

Pretty soon on I was climbing the steps to the bridge. This was when the wisdom of my choice of route was called into question. High on the bridge the breeze was more like a gale and it was blowing right in my face. It was a struggle pushing against it to the apex, uphill and fighting the wind. The stop to take phots was more about getting my breath back than anything. It was short lived because I was having trouble staying on my feet. It occurred to me that I’d have been far better off doing the walk in the opposite direction. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.

You’d have thought things would be easier on the downward slope. You’d be wrong. Even though I was now going down hill the wind was still pushing against me and now it was full of gritty dust sandblasting my face and trying to get behind my glasses and into my eyes. It was not the most pleasant mile I have ever walked. Never have I been so glad to get to the other side of the bridge. To celebrate I took a picture looking down at Cross House where the rowing club were getting their boats out.

In an echo of many walks to work I crossed Chantry Railway Bridge and headed along Marsh Lane. My eyes were drawn to the porthole window behind which I knew was my old desk, although it’s probably long gone by now. I couldn’t bring myself to take a photo. Passing the car park I half expected to see Arabella’s little red sports car. Of course it wasn’t there. The little coffee shop in Central Hall was closed which was a shame as I’d thought about getting a coffee there for old time’s sake. I probably need to stop walking this way because it makes me melancholy.

The mood improved as I made my way up towards the precinct. For a start there was the promise of coffee ahead which always makes me smile. Then there was the old 1970’s bus heading down towards the parks. It must be privately owned but the sight of it brought back a few memories of trips to town in my teens. It is possible I’m becoming a bus geek, which is a worry.

The next half hour was spent dashing through an unusually crowded WestQuay. Coffee was drunk and presents were bought. They were far heavier than I’d expected. With a large bag, full of chocolate from Hotel Chocolat and coffee beans, liqueurs and mugs from Costa, I struggled to the parks. Philo is his mother’s son and the two great loves of his life (other than his wife, children and, hopefully, his parents) are the same as mine. Who knew coffee and chocolate could be so heavy?

The magnolia tree in the enchanted park was magnificent, there was so much blossom on the tree and so many fallen petals beneath it, blown by the vicious wind, it looked like it was sitting on a mirror. I put the bag down and took some photos. When I reached the end of the winding path I put the bag down again and took more photos. These were more about putting the bag down then the need for further photos, my arm felt as if it was falling off.

It was pretty obvious I wasn’t going to be able to walk the three miles home carrying that bag. In the end I made it to the bus stop, with a few more stops to adjust the weight of the presents, and caught the bus home. It was not my longest ever walk and I was a little miffed that, for once, Hotel Chocolate didn’t have any free samples so I didn’t even get any chocolate for my troubles.