I Must Get Out More!

For weeks, it seems, my life has been spent indoors - apart from essential outings, like ringing, singing and shopping - and it's suffered as a result.  It has revolved around my desk, dealing with a succession of either repetitive or never-ending interests, sometimes in a constant sequence from breakfast, via only short breaks for lunch and dinner, to bedtime.

When I first retired for good, almost a year ago now, I resolved to walk at least twice a week.  Sadly this resolution - like so many - has been broken, so when I had to collect a prescription the other day, I decided to walk into the town for the exercise instead of taking the car.

I live in what was originally the industrial area of town.  When I first lived here, in the 'First Garden City', it was on the site of a former pram factory; my present home, I have been reliably informed, replaces a factory where refuse collection vehicles were produced: a claim to fame not everyone can equal!  One principle upon which the Garden City was established was to keep the living areas separate from industry.  Since many industrial premises created unpleasant fumes or smoke from fires, they were sited to the east of the town, downwind of the housing areas, since the prevailing winds are from the west.  Processes have change in the century since the town was created, and this unsavoury aspect of industry is no longer the case.  Hence, the segregation of the town into work and housing no longer applies, and a derelict factory provides an ideal brownfield site for new homes.  Almost directly opposite my home is a factory making parts for the motor industry that has produced neither fumes nor noise, so far as I've noticed in the last thirteen years.

As I walked out the other day, I was reminded of industrial streets in city centres where I've walked not too long ago.  Maybe this week's damp conditions underfoot contributed to this.  I thought in particular of Sheffield some twenty years ago and, more recently, Nottingham.  In both cities I saw industrial buildings of Victorian vintage, or possibly earlier, some of which were in use but others no longer occupied.  Whether awaiting re-use or demolition, or simply protected by being listed as of historical importance, they have a definite aura.  Some have been given new life as flats; some, alas, have broken windows and weeds several feet high growing up the walls.

Maybe it was a product of the afore-mentioned lack of exercise, but I not only enjoyed the discovery of bus routes that I hadn't used before - at least in that way - but also the ensuing journey from one end of the town to the other, in order to complete the range of errands upon which I'd set out.

I'm now looking forward to another reminder of those early days when walking was firmly on my 'to-do' list.  I've just signed up to deliver church Christmas cards next week.  It will be interesting to notice as, by choice, I cover the same roads as I did last year, what thoughts and observations cross my mind as I do so.  I'm not guaranteeing that they'll find their way here ... but watch this space!