An Adventure in a day
Emily and I set out for lunch in a local cafe. Our trip took on a life of its own as we headed up the steep slope out of our road. It was like climbing in the Himalayan Mountains with the warming sun to our backs and the spring flowers just loosing their bloom. After our successful ascent of the South Face of Annapurna .We reached Barry the Butcher in good shape, we passed the Parisian quarter with the French bakery to our left, its flags fluttering in their plant pots, onward towards Tasty Thai. We didn’t stop as we were on a mission, tracking up and down pavements as intrepid explorers of un-navigated terrain. At one point we left the beaten path and ventured onto the road to escape the moguls formed by a trees over zealous stretch. We squeezed through narrow straits formed by a road crash barrier and electrical sub station junction box, with not an inch of comfort.
The landscape opened out and we found ourselves traversing along Avenue Road, Emily driving up steep inclines and piloting around boulders and eroded pathway scree. Our lunch venue loomed like a mirage in the distance. I was euphoric as we settled at our table and I ordered an Italian beer to celebrate. After a careful inspection of the menu we decided to share an Indian tandoori wrap.
On full stomachs we slowly pondered the varied, well stocked shelves of the multinational supermarket in the high street. Laden with exotic delights for our supper we continued to shop happily on the sunny side of the street. We peered into every window and mused at all the enticing goodies displayed. I imagined that we could have been on the streets of New York, London or Milan, just two ladies window shopping with nothing particular in mind, just whimsical dalliance. We scouted out a couple of super presents for Christmas and eyed a bar that might suit for a later date. Venues called New Mexico, Savoir Faire and Caffe Prego continued our world-wide expedition around our neighborhood.
3 pm rushed at us, children were released from school, and the traffic on the path increased as mothers with their buggies all raced to collect their offspring from the playground. Emily pulled over to let a buggy pass and, as she did so, caught her front wheel on the damp slippery grass doing a 360 spin. I jumped in, far too slowly to be of any assistance, the buggy passed with no acknowledgement of Emily’s accommodating manoeuver. It was a race track like the urban streets of Singapore and Monte Carlo during F1 Grand Prix. As Emily reversed herself off the grass verge several swift prams steered through the corridor between her rear wheels and the lamp-post towards the kindergarten gates. It was a chic double buggy that took the checkered flag.
We carried on zig zaging over the dark tarmac pathway, like solidified magma, with tree roots erupting out of the black surface, braking the earth’s crust as they extend themselves. It proved difficult for Emily to control her power chair over this uneven volcanic like landscape. I was happier as we emerged from the side road onto the wider concreted route. It reminded me of being lost in Venice and being surprised as I alighted into the main concourse and re-oriented myself as to where I was in the city. Passing a florist Emily purchased some flowers from the glorious array of blooms and we reversed our earlier route homeward. Just a few mountainous pathway ramps that pitched at an angle that necessitated me to hold on to the back of Emily’s clothing. I called to her “if you fall, darling, I have your nice T-shirt safe!”
We had been out all afternoon, we had lunched, shopped and negotiated irregular topography, we had visited exotic locations in our own community, we had tasted the diversity offered in our own locality, visited uncharted territories, climbed the hills and ramps between roads, streets and paths, hacked at the foliage as it encroached in our way and survived the treacherous and fractured sidewalks. What an adventure and back in time for tea.
English Breakfast Tea in base camp – home!
A world of adventure is on your doorstep? It’s just a point of view!