It is April. It’s slightly cold today. 10°C but it feels more like 5°. I think it’s something to do with humidity, which is running at 79%; I guess this means the temperature doesn’t tell the whole story about how cold it actually feels.
I decide to walk down to The Hive, which is a fantastic craft beer/coffee shop near Crowthorne train station. I now consider it to be my 'local', and the fact that is requires a walk along Heath Ride to access is a happy bonus. It has been open for a few years, and is always busy. The owner (Alex) is clearly passionate about craft beer, and coffee, and customers - the three key things to be passionate about if one wants to run a craft beer/coffee shop.
If the weather isn’t evidence of spring, then there is a clue in all of the houses I pass, with people cleaning out garages and camper vans, or drying tents in preparation for using them later in the year. There are blossoms on the trees, and the birds are singing. It is definitely spring.
Heath ride, however, is muddy today. When Beata writes from the middle of the Pacific Ocean that sometimes she wishes she was on this road walking to a local pub, I doubt she means a day like this. The ground is muddy and wet almost everywhere, and it is a walk full of carefully-chosen places to tread. There is nothing life-or-death about these decisions. It is nothing like a 'safe' crossing of the Pacific with all the care that needs to be taken not to collide with whales, but ankle-deep holes and soaked feet are a real risk.
The feel of this road changes a lot with the seasons, given its proximity to forest and its relatively rural location, free from the concrete blanket that cloaks more urban areas. When Beata talked to me before she left, she said sailing the circumnavigation route was kind of like being in endless summer. This is, I believe, something to do with being near the equator a lot of the time, in the correct hemisphere for fair weather most of the time, and sailing east to west. I kind of get it, but not completely. Nonetheless, while I watch this place change with the seasons, as far as I can tell Beata will be watching many places in bright sunshine.
Looking at the photos she is posting - the one with the buddy on Galapagos Beach was a personal favourite - it seems like despite the endless summer there is still a lot of variety in what she is seeing. I am guessing this is how it feels too - just amazing amounts of new experience and new feelings in new places. I'm also struck though by the fact that for parts of the actual sailing, the dominant theme Beata has to face is same-ness. Same water, same routine, same things to check during lookout. I’m sure this changes when there is an emergency of some kind, or when one is frantically looking for the rice to cook dinner, but it seems to me that one of the best things about the hard work of sailing around the world might be the mindfull routine if forces upon you, in between all the new experiences. I think that is the bit I would really enjoy, although I am sure I would also enjoy the beach buddies and sunshine.
On the walk home from The Hive I met three new cats, but did not take photos as they were all very shy. Not as photogenic as Beata’s beach buddy, but I can always rely on Pippin, my nine-year-old tabby, so I’ll post her picture instead:
In future blogs I will try to gain the trust of these new cats, and hopefully many others (the road is very friendly for cats given the traffic calming - another potential topic).
It may seem trivial, and to be honest I am finding these silly little essays about local areas hard to make interesting compared with reading about Beata’s adventures! It doesn’t matter though; they are only really intended for the protagonist - a small connection to home.
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