Familiar Territory

Each day since my arrival at New Street I have taken a walk beyond the front gate, the distance walked increasing each day. In my confined world of the last two weeks, I have kept to the streets in close proximity to my temporary accommodation.

Today I extended the distance dramatically. 

I had a plan, of course.  The plan was to go to the only café open on Sunday, to sit down and have a coffee.  And maybe a cake?  The day, as you might expect in winter, was cool, with weak sunshine.  This was a special occasion, not walking for the sake of taking some exercise but walking with a social purpose in mind.

My venture was not without an element of risk.  The traffic lights change at the intersection and the far side of the road seems an impossible distance away.  I set out at the fastest pace I can muster; I feel like some old crone hobbling along at a snail’s pace. I am greatly relieved and greatly surprised to make it to the pavement without being bowled over by a speeding car.

The buzz in the café is a world removed from the dining room at New Street; I might well be on another planet. I sit and enjoy the experience; there’s nothing like a life-changing event to make one appreciate the small things in life.

I make the reverse journey back to New Street.   I’m well pleased with my first real venture on foot out into the big, wide world.