Where is the most beautiful place in the world?
Today it is here.
On planning the trip I tried not to think too much about crossing the Lake District, Shapp Fell, at just 470 meters is an obvious choice, but little prepares one for just how beautiful the climb is. The land of Swallows, Amazons, rabbits called Peter, bears called Rupert, and bunnies called Benjamin, it is a land of my youth and it calls me back everytime I visit.
When I’m here, all is right with the world, and we passed ‘half way’ today (fig 1) The photo was taken days back, but seemed right for today.
ON ORDINARINESS
When our two cycles were invented they were called bicycles. After a few years, ingenuity put the pedals lower, geared on chains, and Tarmac allowed a smaller wheel, so the rider could be lower and these were sold as ‘safety bicycles’ the old sort like ours became ‘ordinaries’ . Later diamond-frame cycles continued to be called the Safety Bicycle and it wasn’t until long after their extinction that our cycles got called penny farthings, but it stuck.
Late in life I realised that my life-less-ordinary was not down to place or era, but was down to how I chose to look at life. ‘Place’ helps, The Lakes are extra-ordinary’ but I can see the ‘special’ that exists even in Wigan. One just has to make it oneself.
I received a message from my dear chum of old Nic. He has been on a rare visit back to the UK and we have missed each other again. 30 years ago I played drums badly in his band, we got nowhere and he flew off to the USA to seek his fortune. Years later he art directed films and sleeves for Duran Duran, including the fabulous ‘Wedding Album’ on which was the song ‘Ordinary World’ a beautiful paen to their coming-of-age as life became ‘normal’ after so much hedonistic stardumn. Nic had been to Wales and was trapped by that precious rarity: a place with no ‘phone signal. On returning to London he found the place he was staying burgled. Was that a return to someone else’s ‘ordinary world’ rudely encroaching on a magical week in Wales?
Tomorrow the roads will be full of holiday traffic; a family’s last gasp at summer freedom. Later, as we ascend mountain passes they will have to return to work on Tuesday and grim reality. I rejoice in how my Ordinary World is so precious, vibrant, beautiful and I don’t NEED the Lakes to remind me of this, but, equally I am grateful to their secret magical heather-clad slopes for doing so.
I hereby establish LOG: The League Of Ordinary Gentlemen. Any sex is welcome, simply providing that each member rides a Penny Farthing and has interests beyond cycling history. Apply to Cally for an enamel badge.
