Day 17 begins

 7/7/2012
Day 17 begins

The morning was looking far better than the previous one and I was the only one to stir, Mac was not up yet and so I crept about so not to wake him. It was fantastic to have a bathroom and all the facilities of the modern living lifestyles we lead. The sun was popping its head out for a while, so I got the wet tent from yesterday out in the back garden to dry. The coat and rain cover for the bag were dry now and I thought how timely it was that I got a chance to use a washing machine to re-proof it.

 

I was up so early in part because I was expecting a call from radio Humberside at about 7.20 am, to appear (on the phone) with their weekend breakfast radio D.J. Carl Wheatley. (Click on Pic above) I was quite nervous too, as I had no real idea what he would ask me nor how it might come across on air. But all I had to do was be myself and remember to be brief when answering, and I have been talking for so many years, how hard could it be? I had used the bathroom and gotten ready for the interview a few minutes before I had realised that the phone signal was really poor here. I was getting into a panic as all I could get was one bar of signal, and few minutes remained. I tried everything, every direction and no joy. I stood close to the windows to the garden and then the phone rang at 19 minutes past 7am and I was speaking with a young lady who said that I would be live on air as soon as the song playing ended. Thank goodness, a signal strong enough to talk, but would it suddenly disappear? I heard the song coming to a conclusion and got ready for the presenter to speak to me. Earlier I had been surprised, as listening via the internet to the show, Carl had already plugged me and said some very nice things about the upcoming interview.

The actual interview is still a blur, a fuzzy haze, and I have no idea if I sounded coherent or at all was mumbling randomly. I remember Carl had a very radio friendly voice and put me at ease as we chatted for about 5 minutes. (There is a link to the interview here, Click here) Make your own minds up, but I began thinking of loads of things I forgot to mention, once the conversation with Carl was over and I was thanked by the young producer again. Still, I fought the fear and weathered the storm of my own doubts and challenged the world to respond to my project IMAGINE and the opportunity for kindnesses being shown towards me.

Radio interview listen here. Click Here.

I began packing my bag as Steve the lodger came back in from his night away and we chatted for quite a while as he explained his views on many subjects. Actually I don't think he was a lodger, more a mate that needed a hand out, and Mac was the man for that if ever there was need. Steve is a mechanic and had to go out to work so left me to carry on packing my bag away.

Mac had described himself as a rough diamond, but I would have said a gentle giant. Sure he dealt with some things in the world the way people in his line of work had to, but beneath all the roughness, he was a man who cared for people and it showed. And I for one have a huge debt to his kindness, the spaghetti bolognaise was awesome, and the hospitality delightful.

When Mac finally stirred I was almost set but asked if I could carry on typing for a bit longer. He said there was no rush for me to leave as he set about feeding me again, gammon and eggs.....ooh delicious...

As I said before, things like this are hard to leave, and people as friendly and giving are hard to forget, so we said our goodbyes and I set off to see a bit of Hornsea. I mainly stuck to the sea front and then the coastal path as I moved northward toward Bridlington way off in the distance.

The day was brighter and I was walking without my coat for the first time in a few days. Here there was a lot of coast to walk, and I tried to keep off the beach at first thinking that it would be too soft to walk on easily. However, what with the rains or storms, the path along the top of the bluff had fallen away in so many places it felt safer to walk on the sand and risk drowning if the sea came back in too fast. The tides did seem to go a long way out in places, and yet the debris on the shoreline would indicate it came up quite high every high tide, twice per day. I was horrified that in some places it had really caused a lot of damage, as with the seawall at Skipsea which was almost totally destroyed, and caravan pitches perilously close to the edge, or abandoned all together where the concrete bases had given way. 

 

The paths were sodden and in places I was wading to get through. ( I say wading, I mean a bit of skirting the fields actually, I can do without my feet getting trench foot.) The going was quite tough and yet the views were still excellent, and by early afternoon I had arrived at a shop come tea garden come pizzaria take away place. The staff were very cordial and I asked if they minded me sitting typing in their sunny garden. 

They even ran me an extension cable so that I could have power out in the garden. Well done to Barry Nathan and the lady who's name I didn't catch for such a pleasant afternoon in the sun garden drinking tea, with cake and strawberries and fresh cream..... oooh think of the calories I have to walk off now. The evening was rolling in with the breeze from the sea, and I figured it was time to set up camp for the night. Along the sea edge I found where a canal entered the sea through a one way flow valve. There was one of those concrete bunkers that used to serve the soldiers as a lookout post 'during the war', hidden partly in the long grass and I made good use of the cover it gave from the winds that might blow through the night. The long grass compressed to give me a wonderful mattress upon which to relieve the otherwise hardness of the ground. It also helped to insulate the tent base from seepage of my body heat. The natural incline helped to give me a feeling that if water entered the tent as it may do under heavy rain, that at least I wouldn't drown in my sleep.

A quick snifter of the brandy helped with a chill I felt rising, despite the general warmth of the night approaching. As my head touched the makeshift pillow I was sparked out and in a world where the summer was golden fields of corn ripening under the constant sun.

And here day 17 ended swiftly.