Whilst I’m out of the country on a trip to a mysterious undisclosed location, the daily blogging will be achieved through a series of travel-related posts, thanks to the kindness of my friends and family, and the wonders of post-scheduling technology.
This installment of The Travel Diaries is brought to you by Rob Cook. Rob bears the great honour of being my father; he is married to another, similarly privileged individual, my mother, Liz; he has two other daughters, Rachel and Sarah; four grandchildren, Holly, Sophie, Aidan, and Lola; and a cat, Cuthbert.
On wee walk(ie)s
Regular followers of this blog may recall that Ellidh posted about having been cruelly misled by her parents (on April 1st, some might say appropriately) into taking a longer walk than she had bargained for. In my defence, I would just like to offer the following points:
- Going for a walk was her suggestion
- She was the one who determined what sort of walk we took, by not having appropriate footwear for the countryside
- As it was a circular walk with a river in the way, the only way to make it shorter would be by not going all the way home!
- It was fortunate for her we only followed the boundary of the urban bit of the city. Carlisle has the distinction of being the largest city in the UK by land area – 1039 sq. km., so if we had followed the boundary of the city proper we would probably still be walking …
A couple of weeks ago the female parent and I retraced the route, this time accompanied by the dog of Ellidh’s little sister Sarah. Grand-dogs, like grandchildren, can be handed back when you have had enough – all the fun without the responsibility. We met a heron on the River Caldew, but fortunately the dog was looking the other way.
Thanks to a dinky little iPhone app called FootPath I can confirm that Ellidh’s estimate of 10 miles was on the low side. Harry the dog wasn’t counting (he struggles past 4) but I reckon if we walked 11.5 miles he must have done twice that.
In summary: Shanks’ Pony