Sally's Tongues E-Book

Geoffrey Peyton

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

A fourth excursion to the pretty village of Milnthorpe in Southern Cumbria makes for another delightful break away from the concrete world of city life. Even if only for a few days, I will miss nothing about the urban life I was born into. I will become a yokel of the Lake District once again and walk the quiet splendid pastures of these excellent villages and hamlets.

Leseprobe

Geoffrey Peyton

Sally's Tongues

Barrow,Kendal, Milnthorpe, etc.

To all the wonderful people of Milnthorpe and its environs. You are truly lucky bastards to live in such a crime free world.BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

Sally's Tongues

I guess that your first thought when you saw the title of the segment was, “Not another boring hike around there again?"

 Well you have hit the nail on the head.

It is now customary that I head for The Lakes each late May to early June for my annual visit to the horse racing at the splendid village of Cartmel, which is not a javelin throw from Grange-Over-Sands, which in turn is only a stone throw from Morecambe Bay, which itself is but a cat swing from someone drowning into a horrifying death.

I indeed look forward to this outing that consists of four and a half days of indulging the peacefulness of the quiet fells and its naturally untouched prairieland that is scattered liberally for the appreciative rambler to negotiate. And without cities or major towns of dilapidated disfigurement to appal ones eyesight, the belle before your natural lenses is one of utter bewilderment of what actually lies beyond the ignorance of a metropolitan shithole.

Unlike me, most people are still in a dream world at four in the morning on an early summer’s day. But I am up from my slumber and quickly out and about in the loneliness of a world that contains almost zero in human existence. I inadvertently become, albeit momentarily, part of a life that I have adored for many-a-year, and that is being alone with the wildlife of a choral morning, lost in my own private universe.

Whatever gave me the appreciation for such beauty of copious green land, mountains, lakes, rivers, forestry and so forth, I have little or no idea. I was born in the City of Birmingham, brought up in the Black Country, and schooled at both. I have many associates who prefer an industrial hellhole, rather than a little rural peacefulness. When I visit Cornwall each year in late August, I take a walk along the coast in the mornings and feel envy and utter jealousy toward the occupants of their seaside view cottages as they open their curtains each morning and see nothing but an ocean with a few delightful islands scattered amongst the steady waves of the crystal clear waters. They endure very, very little in the way of delinquent behaviour at almost any point. In fact every rural part of the UK, and indeed the whole world, escapes asboism (I am not sure if this word exists, but it is in the Peyton dictionary now).

I have always said that I would love to live in the country, and subsequently finish my days there. But what would I look forward to if I became a natural yokel. Perhaps I would save up my hard earned money to take a fortnight’s break in Small Heath Birmingham in a blistering July. They do say that once a city man, always a city man. But I have my own cliché when that anecdote is thrown at me, and that is “Bollocks”. I hate each day that I have to look out of my bedroom window and see row upon row of part owned, part council houses, all stretched from top to bottom of our local urban road in Northfield, Birmingham. But that is where I am, and that is how it will probably remain until my final breath. But enough lamentation for the reasons of why I am here in the suburbs of Central England, let us embark on another trip up to the lakes. And before you think that I am going solo, I am afraid that Pam is coming along too. Not to worry, I shall be on my own during mornings, late afternoons, and well into the evenings.