The Viking Way: Part 5 (of 13) - Donington-on-Bain to Horncastle
Thou still unravished bride of quietness,The first line of Keats' Ode on a Grecian Urn (about 40 drachmas a week, since you ask) popped into my head en route - not sure why but it seems to capture something - and what route - wow! It was so so beautiful right from the start! So unexpected, too - the last part had been underwhelming and whilst this wasn't overwhelming it was fucking lovely. Keats' second line gets close. I don't even want to publish any pictures, really, because the experience was just the quietness and the slow time, the stillness in the air and our movement, our stillness and the movement in the air, the birds, the wind, the chalk streams, the wind, the outstretching of our arms embracing the joy of it all, the plod plod stomp stomp of our boots, moving moving always forward, determined, pulsing, uphill and down, forward and forward to exhiliration and extinction and life. And we shared our joy of the world and also felt proud that we had become so very fit after our months of walking, after our experience, our striving. And of course, experience is a better teacher - we were so fucking knackered after this walk, we didn't have inclination or energy spare to inebriate ourselves as we really ought! A beautiful day!
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time
Oh, alright then, some photos - these may give an idea of the warm bath we took on one day in the world...