The Ribbon Walk, Part 2

I guess I must have triple checked that I had everything with me. Walking shoes, socks, waterproof jacket, umbrella (just in case), car park pass, and of course, pink iced cakes, pink wafer biscuits and crisps (for the salt - not pink, though J had prawn cocktail flavour, which I don’t like).

We set off really early, and, once we’re on the road:

‘We’re going to get there early you know…’
‘We could always stop for coffee, that would make it a proper handbag walk’

So around 10.30am, while others were preparing for the walk, we find a parking space on a busy Saturday morning in Wetherby, and look for a coffee shop. Luckily, for a small town, it seems well provided for, and we find a nice little café, where we clearly should also have had breakfast.

We still make it to Harewood by just after 11.30am. It’s nowhere near as busy as I’d thought it would be. I had visions of us queuing to park, and to register, but there’s none of that. We’re just guided to a parking space, and then go over and register, and to find the third member of our party, realising that this isn’t going to be as hard as we’d thought. There’s a refreshment tent, and even more tantalising, a Pimms stall.

Then it’s time for a pre-walk snack. C, who isn’t familiar with the world of the handbag walkers, looks a bit bemused as we set out the picnic rug, and the food, on pink plates, with pink serviettes. We’re taking cake with us though, to eat en route.

We get booted up, and, as it manages to spit with rain for all of 30 seconds while we are picnicking, I have to take my jacket, which I proceed to tie around me, as it won’t fit in my handbag. As I’m also wearing a bum bag, to carry all the other things that won’t fit in my handbag, I create a sort of bustle effect. Or, at least, in my head I do. Thankfully I can’t see behind me.

For the first couple of miles, it’s a long stream of people, which doesn’t make for easy walking, as we keep having to overtake, and then, we also keep stopping for photos. We’re amazed to find that after an hour, we’ve completed 3 miles.

The first rest stop, with refreshments, is at 3.5 miles, and we stock up with fruit and more water. Soon after, we’re passing alongside Eccup Reservoir, and everyone else seems to have vanished. We wonder for a moment if we’ve gone wrong, then spot a pink arrow up in a tree.

We soon seem to have reached 5 miles. Halfway. Time was not that long ago when this would have been a very long walk, but we’re going well, and don’t feel tired. We never spot the 6 mile marker, as, after 6.5 miles, we arrive at the second rest stop, which seems an outdoor activity centre. We stop and sit in a children’s playground to eat our crisps and cakes, (on which the icing has melted a bit).

When we set off again one of the marshalls says ‘the worst bit is over now’. As we head into the woods, and up a hill, we realise he was lying! After 7 miles, a hill is pretty hard going, and it adds insult when we’re overtaken by a bloke who is running, but soon we’ve crested it, and emerging from the trees, can see Harewood House across the parkland.

The final mile is up the drive to the house, and then round the front of it. We pass the little shop, and at least two tea shops at this point, but can’t stop, for the finishing line is in sight. For at least the last three miles, J has been talking about Pimms.
We cross the line to cheers (bless them) and it feels good. We’re presented with our medals, and having posed for a celebratory photo, head for a glass of Pimms, which goes down very well. We also get a voucher for free food*, which is surprisingly nice, and then head back to the car, where we have mini bottles of pink champagne.

As we sit beside the cars, raising our glasses in celebration, I feel very proud of us all.

*which doesn't feel that 'free' when you've walked 10 miles for it!

The Ribbon Walk

I can’t actually believe that we’ve done it. That I have walked 10 miles, without any noticeable after effects.

More importantly, I have reached my target of raising over £250 for breast cancer care. Thank you to everyone who has sponsored me, and of, course, for all your encouraging comments along the way, as well as those that reminded me of how unfit I have been my whole life till now.

A fuller report of the day is coming, but for now, here’s the proof.

Final Training

Oh yes, I’ve been training hard, having recovered from my ‘injury’ (which didn’t actually take long, but then I have no experience of such things, hence my panic).

I can’t actually believe we do the Ribbon Walk in two days time. It seemed a long way away when we signed up. Along the route, sadly one of our team members has had to pull out, but we’ve also gained a member* of our ladies walking group who will be joining us on the day.

Over the last few Sundays, we’ve done some longer walks, starting with 7 miles (with breaks), moving on to an incredibly boring (and hot) walk of 7.5 miles, without a tea shop (won’t be doing that one again). The other week we even did a morning walk of 6 miles, and an evening walk of 4.5 miles to fit around J’s afternoon concert. So that was 10.5 miles in a day, though with a considerable break in the middle. We were both shattered by the end of the day though.

Last weekend our ladies group had decided to do a 9 mile walk, so this was our ‘trial run’, as there was no tea shop or pub en route. It was also my trial with my handbag, and cakes, and other equipment. I did not look like a serious walker.

After about 4 miles, we reached a seat under a tree, and J and I proceeded to bring out, and eat, crisps and glittery pink iced buns, much to the astonishment of the others. We then continued, walking back along the river. At times it felt a bit like a route march, and not that leisurely, so I want to pace things more gradually at the weekend. It’s not a race, and it’s not about how quickly we complete it. As long as we get round before they close the course, that’s fine.

Once again though, we were pretty knackered by the end. I guess I’m glad that the following day is a Sunday.

Not sponsored me yet - here's the link

*who claims to have done ‘no training’, but was out at the front on Sunday’s walk, and is clearly much fitter than us.

Crazy days

I’ve been a bit busy lately! So I’ve not really had time to update on the rest of my visit to London, or seeing the lovely John Barrowman in concert, or my subsequent two trips to London, or my walking, or any thing else. There will be updates on some, but not all of these in due course, but sometimes it seems the moment to write has passed.

Basically, it’s all been a bit crazy, and isn’t shaping up to be any less hectic over the next few weeks, as I have a couple of major pieces of work coming up before I go on holiday. So, this weekend, I’m taking a moment to breathe.

A Night at the Opera (House)

It’s long been an ambition of mine to attend a performance at the Royal Opera House. I guess there wasn’t anything stopping me, I just never got round to organising it. But finally, I decided it was time to go, and booked L* and I tickets for a triple bill of Les Sylphides, a new ballet, and The Firebird, last week.

It turned into a bit of a retro couple of days, as we stayed in a hotel we’d stayed at on our first trip to London together at 17. I think we’re better dressed now than we were then, though. I’d decided to wear my maxi dress, as if this wasn’t an occasion to dress for, I wasn’t sure what was. Even though this meant walking through London at 5pm on one of the sunniest days of the year so far, this didn’t bother me.

Following an early dinner, we arrived at the ROH, and into the fabulous Paul Hamlyn Hall, all airy space and glass. In my head, it’s something like the Crystal Palace must have been, only with better cocktails. The building is stunning. Whilst I’d had a look around previously when there wasn’t a performance on, there was an entirely different atmosphere. There were also some fabulous outfits (though not many maxis), on some beautiful people. It was also a very good shoe night.

I suppose I should be talking about the ballet, but for me, the greatest experience was the building. I loved Les Sylphides, which is beautiful and I adore the music, the new ballet was good, but I prefer traditional story ballets (or at least pretty ones), and it was good to see the Firebird for the first time, which seemed very typical of a Fokine/Ballet Russes ballet, very fairy tale.

With ballet, you tend to get long intervals, particularly with a triple bill, as they had to reset the stage. This gave us plenty of time to explore the rest of the building, going out onto the terrace which overlooks Covent Garden, and walking op the stairs which have been seen on TV so many times – and then doing it again just for effect and thinking that I was about to meet the Queen at a Royal Command Performance**.

We had fabulous seats, and I was pleased that the auditorium didn’t feel as huge as I thought it might. The whole experience was utterly fabulous.

Of course, I now want to go again – but I think next time will be for a three act story ballet. As for the opera, well, I’ll give that a miss, thanks.

*L and I go way back. All the way to school, in fact, when she used to eat the bits of school dinners that I didn’t like. Given that this meant she ate a great deal more than me, and stayed stick thin, it’s amazing we stayed friends.

**I know reality doesn’t enter into it, but then, why should it?