Part Three – Mud, Fret and Jeers…

Yes… even when I walk I’m taunted. Words come and go… blood, sweat and tears? No… that’s someone else’s line… but… slip sliding along a very wet, muddy horse walk out in the middle of nowhere sure is a way to get the cliché’s flooding the brain!

‘Mad dogs and Englishmen’ was promptly turned into something along the lines of ’Wild (African) dogs and Saffers’ Flipping hell… there I was strolling along when I caught sight of another boat along the canal. No… that spot of bright colour I imagined was indeed a very familiar ensign… so familiar, yet it seemed slightly out of place… why? It was a South African flag!

Wild dogs and Saffers! Indeed. I wasn’t the only one of my tribe out in the soup. There were others who didn’t quite understand that summer was a figment of our collective imagination! That was apparent when I asked the obligatory question…

“What brings you here?”

“The weather…!”

The mirth was more than evident. There we were… me Saffer going west on foot… them Saffers going east by barge. All fun.

I gave up on trying to stay dry. This walk was again a total reminder of why I’m at the westward stroll. If ever one needs a glimmer of a reminder of how difficult the homeless, less fortunate folk living rough must feel on a daily basis then take a walk in the middle of nowhere… along a soggy, slippery clay path in the rain.

My only real concern was keeping the camera dry and safe. Imagine having to walk along this path, maybe to get from where you call home to find medical help in the nearest village. You have to walk, no choice… you have to do it now, not when the sun is shining again. Imagine getting there and then having to make your way back. Your only pair of socks won’t dry out for a few days. That’s only the socks. Imagine sleeping… well, passing out from exhaustion… under your sheet of plastic while the relentless rain falls.

I could have called the good lady to collect me anytime but it would be rather selfish and hypocritical of me if I did so. The least I could do was reach my target for the day. Lock 20 west of Ticknevin beckoned in the rain… the closer I got the more the more distant the ever decreasing visibility seemed to make the destination seem.

Boy… was I glad to see the happy smiley faces I’d last seen some six hours earlier. The first dry, warm seat I could appreciate in that time. The two little boys don’t quite understand why granny drops oupa in the middle of nowhere only to have to collect him hours later… again in the middle of nowhere. They do enjoy the ride though…

PS – Please don’t forget the main aim of the walk… to get folks awareness stimulated… and also to beg for your contributions! Do feel free to click here and visit my charity web page… Thanks again!

About aj vosse

Love life, live love... share life... share love!
This entry was posted in Boating, Family & Life, Grand Canal, Walking and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Part Three – Mud, Fret and Jeers…

  1. looks like a great hike – rain and all.. great shots aj!

    Like

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