Saved by brambles from motorised annihilation
On my walk – which is a tortoise-paced wobble supported by two sticks – last Sunday afternoon I decided to take the track across the way to see what flowers were out. The track is narrow and muddy, sunk between two high tree-lined banks as is usual in this part of the world. During the Battle of Normandy in 1944 the Allies were bamboozled by enemy vehicles hiding in these tracks.
I hadn’t gone very far when engine rumbling sounds approached. I looked round and was horror-struck to see a line of off-road vehicles inexorably closing on me . With no flat space either side, I made a scramble for the bank, hanging on for dear life by a bunch of brambles. Luckily I was wearing gloves. With my ‘spare’ hand I jammed my sticks into the mud as extra support.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have a third hand to take my camera from my pocket to record the passing of 6 mud-encrusted Land Rovers and Jeeps so close to my bahooki that my jacket caught momentarily on a wing mirror. Each vehicle slowed, the window opened and a smiling Frenchman said a polite bonjour. I was vociferously terrified but they pooh-poohed it. One offered to give me a lift to the road (about two kilometres ahead) but I explained that I couldn’t walk that far, thanked him and declined.
When at last they had all passed, I inched sideways down the bank and made a beeline through the churned-up mud for home, thanking my lucky stars that I was still in one piece. I cannot for the life of me see why anyone in their senses would enjoy such a pastime which destroys the peace of the countryside, endangers life and ruins the tracks for farmers and walkers who use them.
Do go and see what others have been doing this week at Cate’s place.