WAGS 2023 06 21: Walking Backwards - What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

 

 

The intention was to return to Cotifo and to follow one of Rod´s favourite walks but to do it backwards. A slightly earlier start than normal because of the threat of hot weather was perhaps a bit unnecessary because the temperature was not that oppressive - we even had a very brief sprinkle of rain but it did enable the Leader to throw in - entirely unplanned of course -  an extra km  or so. And we are lucky enough to have a repeat performance from last week´s  Blogger. Here he is again - more power to his pen! Over to Yves.

Good day, one and all!

It had to happen, Part Deux!

The day started bright and happy, as most days do in our little sunny paradise.
Ye Aulde Intrépides duly met at the appointed place and almost at the appointed time; the thoughtfully planned travel arrangements were also duly overturned in very short order and the troop made its cheerful way to the starting place for the day’s breathless misadventures.

There, we were not greeted by a determined-looking lady who might have used her large vehicle as some screen for a peet-stop? At least, observation of the crime-scene led some to believe so… She left, we parked, and left in our turn, on foot as befits walkers.

The Starters

(Chris and Antje were also there at Odiaxére pre-start but had some pressing other  business.)

The intention was to re-trace backwards one of Rod’s routes but in view of the difficulty inherent in that approach we soon faced forward again, turned the map upside-down and marched off into the wilds of a newish dawn…

 The more observant among Geriatric Walkers and Thinkers will have noticed that the date was the Summer Solstice, i.e. the longest day of the year! Not that it matters to retirees but there was a definite grump in the air as younger folks had to work extra time… Their misery will be almost relieved when they see that the Winter Solstice also falls on a working day and they will then work less time, or fewer times perhaps? Someone clever explained…

(Some tree felling had been taking place but a lot of the debris remains on site. Of course, they know what they are doing, don´t they?)

Donkey talk

The vineyard looked well-tended

Clever, clever

Be all that as it may, the true spirit of the Great Leader was respected: we failed to spot a slightly overgrown goat-track to our right, retraced our steps and battled personfully* through weeds and thorny things to reach the road on t’far side.

Lo! It had to happen!

(We have maps and road signs: we can´t possibly get lost, can we?)

A look at the map did show some track not too far away and we made a definite right turn at the appropriate spot; we then followed the ever-narrowing goat-track, 

then through more weeds and thorny things before reaching a fork-junction: left or right? Without a hint of too much hesitation, the Leader went right despite cries from the assembled followers, not least Hazel, that left may be more advisable. That decision proved to be erroneous as we found ourselves back at Square One on the Grid!  (Should have stopped to look at the map one more time. Had to eat humble pie to the Mem Sahib. She had got it right.)

Note his sophisticated use of the green cushion

The old “Well, errm, right, that was the extra loop, mmm, ha! Right, we’ll go that way, I think, hemmm, perhaps…” came to mind as we pored over the Down-Under map and measured distances by dint of extended fingers placed along the red line; naturally, opinions varied: dem wi’ dainty fingers measured a much shorter distance than dem wi’ Phat Phingers.

All was well and we found an alternative track that was the correct one all along. 

Eating ´umble pie

(It had become rather hot towards the end of the walk, but usefully the sun had dried out the cow dung sufficiently for Hazel to gather a large bagful for her roses)

We were soon safely in the cars and despite a difficult hill-start for some and a threatened crumpled wing we reached Odiaxere in short order. There was only one small incident of note when some ‘o kamikase’ driver pulled out of a side-road, very nearly hit John’s Mobile before doing the same to the following car (the writer’s shiny Mobile) and disappeared to a quiet hole where he could change his clothes, judging by the terror on his face as he went past, so closely…

The Last Flowers of Summer

At the café, we feared a repeat of the lengthy service experienced on a previous occasion: ‘o patron’ was personfully** managing the lunch-time rush single-handed. How wrong the Doubting Thomases were! Food and drink arrived in commendable time to the throng now augmented by the late arrival of Chris and Antje, she with the enormous patience in dissecting the itemised bill before arriving at John’s earlier suggestion that the total be divided by the number of diners…

In all, another passably memorable Solstice Day as we went our separate ways, some rushing to claim their pitch at Glastonbury, Ryanair allowing; others going home.

Until next time!

• Conventions must be respected and since the persons concerned wore no visible tags with their chosen pronouns***, the writer had to revert to the time-honoured paradigm that ‘man embraces woman’; this did not seem to accord with others’ views, therefore ‘person’ was considered neutral enough to satisfy the most belligerent Swiss-opinionated among us; or something like that.

** See * above!

*** A ‘Saint Michael’ tag sewn inside a garment may be an indication of a wise but boring choice of clothing but it is hardly a clear pointer of the self-identification of the wearer.

(Thanks to Hazel, Myriam and Yves for photos , and to Yves for his lively report.)

After doing the walk backwards, there is only one possible piece of music to close.