Since I was out anyhow I nipped into the Co-op and bought fresh fruit and veg, a bottle of wine and a pizza for when he came home. I saw my neighbour, Dave, there and he was bemoaning the lack of paracetamol anywhere. I commiserated as Bill and I had searched North Shields that day for any hand sanitiser or paracetamol or even hand washing liquid (Bill's preference, I like bars) and came up with only some strange dissolving paracetamol tablets (that taste awful). I've not been in - or even to - a shop since.
But this is about Easingwold, where we'd just been the previous weekend, attending the Annual General Meeting (another phrase I never met until coming to Britain) of the Long Distance Walkers' Association. I had misgivings about going, but I knew Bill would go without me. If there was anything being passed around there he'd just bring it home and I'd spend the weekend worrying, so I went. I'm so glad I did.
Not only was it our last taste of freedom, but I met a different set of people this time, people who were great conversationalists and they always seemed to remember my name! Also, I got to know some of Bill's walking buddies a bit better. As usual the food was pretty good and definitely plentiful. Our digs were unusual. We were staying at the Cabinet Office's Emergency Planning College, which somehow seemed appropriate.
We arrived on Friday afternoon and there was a series of walks of varying lengths planned for Saturday morning, one of which Bill planned to do. I could have taken a coach trip to York with a bunch of the other wives, but I've been to York quite a bit. I'd investigated charity shops at Easingwold and nearby villages online and when a gentleman at the front desk recommended Easingwold I was set. He described it as a 'lovely little village full of Georgian houses, clever little boutique shops, great charity shops and wonderful teashops'. Who wouldn't be sold?
I decided that since it was only 2 miles to the village I would walk as parking cars can sometimes be complicated. Besides I'd had a large dinner the night before that needed addressing. The 2 mile route was on a main road without a place for pedestrians, though. I asked for and received a map of the area and saw that there was a short cut across fields, but did I dare? Another gentleman suggested that their walk would begin along that exact route and that I could accompany them to the village and then go my own way. So I did.
I was trying to notice markers so I could get back the same way. We went across a very bumpy field, then over a stile into a smooth field. We went across at an angle to another stile and then along a fence to two stiles, one right after the other. Then we went through a gate...and then I don't know what all. We were in the village. Much as I tried turning around to see how it would look on the return I was pretty certain I'd be coming back along the main road.
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| The original - it was a big field! I do so love the lacey trees. |
I had a lively conversation from a retired medic originally from Ireland, County Mayo. He had a lot to say about 'caring' as well as 'curing', which I found quite refreshing. I got some insight into why people might spend hours and hours each week wondering around together in all sorts of weathers.
There were no women on this walk, or if there were they were at the front. I chatted with a couple of men designated as 'sweepers'. The back group found my attire quite amusing, though they described it as 'elegant', which of course was ludicrous. One of them even asked to take my photo, saying I should be on the cover of Strider Magazine as the 'best dressed walker'. I thought he was crackers but I agreed to a picture. It hasn't appeared on Strider, but it did show up on the LDWA Facebook page.
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| My cropped version. |
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