Back on the path

Looking at photos from exactly 15 years ago aboard the Keewaydin in Devon and Cornwall all of us much younger, thinner and less cool in a way. I was totally loved up that Summer but seeing the photos for the first time I can’t match the photos with the feeling. Photos always lie, though, don’t they?

Now is the time of year that I always I am desperate for exploring and adventure. Just a wipe of sunlight across a field or the wind in a tree or a sunset or the wind and sun together is enough to make me seek it out. It’s a dream. And the reality often doesn’t match the dream but still I need to follow the urge. At the moment a desire to improve myself mentally seems to have overshadowed thoughts of holidays or sailing adventures and that is a good thing. I have to look after myself. Now I’m starting to feel better I must maintain it – keep working at it. It’s all too easy to feel fine and then return to the old ways. I can’t remember the last time I had a cigarette – suddenly I have given up. I don’t want it anymore. Also, where is the mix – the starter – the main spirit in the crazy cocktail? Not there in the back of my mind. Not there as something I build my week towards. God, think of the years and years where it would be the focus of the week and then the mashup that would follow. Last year I couldn’t stop saying ‘transition’ because of me leaving Heathfield but really this has been the year of change.

I have just looked back at my entry from last year – staying in Weymouth, waking every morning at 4am, walking the path and that amazing heatwave we had. And now it’s time to get on it again. 2 weeks ago I walked from Salcombe to Wembury in the first part of half term. It was a strange one – moments of joy but mainly spooked and a cold headwind most of the way.

I camped next to St Clement’s Church in Hope Cove the first night – it was bank holiday Monday. Why hadn’t I thought about camping in churchyards before? The tent is protected from the wind, normally you have nice flat, grassy ground and I doubt anyone will be complaining. Besides God’s benevolent eye will be looking over me. I’m not the sort to believe in the undead. Also, you can use the porch as a place for storage / changing room out of the elements.

The following day I walked miles – 20 at least – from Hope Cove to to Blackaterry Point and then inland about 7 miles to Yealmpton and a comfy B and B with good food. Bliss.

Now that I’m starting to feel normal again – let it last, let it never stop – it’s time to focus on the path ahead once again. This weekend Wembury to Plymouth and then possibly my old stamping ground in Kingsand / Cawsand. Now that will be a memory to move me.

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