Fifteen kilometres. I think that’s how far we walked today. A walk down to Talland, a pit-stop at the beach cafe, then along the coast-path to Polperro for lunch before climbing back over the headland to Talland, then the climb back to my parents. Fifteen kilometres that felt more like twenty.
We sat on the roof terrace of the Three Pilchards in Polperro - our favourite haunt for the last several years. I had a cheese ploughmans, my daughter a burger. We both drank very large glasses of cider that went straight to our heads.
I’m sitting in the “sun room” while writing this - a room at my parents house that spends most of the year with it’s door closed. It’s cool in the summer, and cold in the winter. The patio door behind me is wide open - a slow breeze ebbing and flowing. In the far distance container ships and ferries pass silently on the horizon.
It feels odd - visiting my parents - visiting this part of the country. It feels like a parallel universe - disconnected from everything and everybody I know. “Neverwhere” comes to mind. I guess that’s why I brought my daughter here - to step away from the never-ending rush - to slow down - to rediscover herself a little.
While walking along the coast path today, our minds were filled with the here and now - rather than the there and the past or future. We watched waves crashing, birds hunting, and rabbits exploring quiet lanes. More rabbits than we have seen for years. Nature seems to be turning a page.
Perhaps it’s a time for turning pages. A time for ending some stories, and starting others. What did Robin Williams’ English teacher say in “Dead Poets Society?”
“O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?”
What will your verse be?