Two different walks this past weekend, each about three miles. With misgivings i joined Canterbury’s Black Lives Matter march on Saturday. Misgivings because i haven’t been in a group of more than three people since the lockdown began in March. But there’s a time to stand up and be counted.
A big crowd, many with homemade placards and mostly much younger than me, assembled in the Westgate Gardens by the River Stour. Fairly easy to keep socially distanced on the lawns. The march, along Canterbury’s main street, separated into small groups. I couldn’t keep up and had to keep stepping aside to let marchers pass. Decrepitude. Old age is bad, but the alternative is worse.
Increasing unease at being in a crowd. At my age much more vulnerable than the youngsters. The march turned into narrow Mercery Lane leading to the cathedral gate. Crammed together. The Bishop of Dover addressed the marchers. I left for the Dane John Gardens and had a welcome coffee.
Sunday’s walk was more conventional. Three miles of exercise with son Joseph. Three miles is my limit in my present state of fitness. Along the quiet Whitehall Road where we met a colleague of Joe’s on an isolated sponsored walk. She has run an enormous number of marathons. Up a steep footpath and the steeper ABC steps, over a railway bridge to the London Road Estate. Built as council housing with street names taken from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. Along Priest Avenue. An alley off Wife of Bath Hill led to Mill Lane.
This is part of the North Downs Way and led us uphill and then steeply down to a stream. Left turn on a footpath leads back to the end of Whitehall Road. Across Hambrook meadow to the riverside path, well used by cyclists and walkers, some with dogs. By the time we got home via Toddlers Cove i was out of energy.
A pleasant walk on a sunny summer day.
Rambling Brummie 