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Thursday, January 14, 2010

I could walk 500 miles


OK, my Dexter fetish has leaked into yet another blog, but dear reader, you are saved - for it's only one very brief line courtesy of Lila - "Londoners walk everywhere ... usually to the pub". And when I tore myself away from her accent and repeated those London-related words in my head, a raft of memories stepped right to the front of my mind.

It's true. Londoners and people living in London (typically the millions of Antipodeans - I've always felt unsure about that word, I mean, I like the way it feels when I pronounce it, but I keep linking it back to amphibians) rely on their feet to get to A to B. Hell, A to Z.

And I took this to the extreme. Walking to work morning and night, rain, snow, sun (with a compulsory drop in to the local on the sunny stroll home of course!). My feet where my wheels. The pavement was my road. I felt I could walk anywhere, and you pretty much can in London. From Southbank to Bank. From Soho to Pimlico. From Clapham South to Battersea, which was my walk home from the office. Particularly beautiful, but only through Clapham Common, not the loud, chaos of York Road.

And on these walks, when my iPod was not draining out the London traffic, I allowed myself to shake off the stress of the day. Usually by the time I reached my terrace door, the deadlines, clients, colleague dramas were a distant memory lost in the steps I left behind. So therapeutic. So free. In a city that is controlled by the fast, it's that tiny peace of tranquil that lulls the over-active mind. Pub, parties, work, dates, if I could walk it in 30 minutes, I would avoid the Underground.

I even took this walking habit with me to Brisbane, and opted for my Havaiana-clad feet to lead the way over my new set of wheels. That was until the thick, humid, summer heat set in and the complete lack of other walkers became apparent. So I sheepishly slid back into my penchant for sharp corners and late breaking, thank you Frankie (my adorable car).

But I am proud to say I do force out a good, strong walk daily on the treadmill. In air-con. Surrounded my other walkers pounding the machines. It's walking, Brisbane style!

1 comment:

  1. as someone who went from london to los angeles, i DEFINITELY feel you on this one... it's not possible for me to walk to work (though at the rate of traffic, i'm pretty sure i could walk as fast as i'm driving half the time...)

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