By the time this is posted, I should be about an hour in to a 12-mile walk with the group I joined recently…
Instead, I’ve just arrived home and I’m sat rather comfortably infront of my laptop, typing this!
This walk was due to start at 1oam, with the meeting point being Parkway Station in Bristol. According to Google Maps, it would take me 33 minutes to get there so, I said to myself last night and this morning that I would leave at 9.15, to get there are early and change my footwear, pay for parking and find a place to wait for the others to arrive. Even if I drove or got a bus to a local train station (I’ve never been on a train alone), I believe that the cost of a ticket would outweigh the amount of fuel consumed and the parking charges as well.
At 9.15am, I was just coming out of the bathroom, in spite of the fact that I got myself out of bed this morning at 7.40. Plenty of time for preparation, indeed… However, that’s not the game I tend to play. Procrastination plagues my life and even my daily routine at times.
Eventually, I left home in my van at almost 9.30. There was a slim chance that I would even reach the car park in time. I tried my trick of adding five-miles to every maximum speed that I past but, I think I lost any added time I might have saved by turning right at one roundabout too early, just before the station. All I could hope was that their train from Temple Meads would be delayed, just as it was when I did the other walk in Keynsham recently.
It was bang on 10am as I drove in to the station, looking for a place to park. My late-night research had told me to look for the short term bays, as I would probably only be there for six-hours at most but, they weren’t marked clearly enough for me. Although, sometimes, I do look too hard when it can pay to step back and look at where the sign is actually pointing…
After one trip through the entire car parking site (Do I park under cover? Can I park under cover? Bloody speed bumps!), I did a U-turn to complete my lap and, as I passed a small walkway leading down from the station, I noticed a line of water-proofed back-packers cross my sight. One of them (who I recognised from my first walk) even looked my way.
I was too late.
Naturally, I got quite frustrated with myself on the journey home. I palmed (not punched) the steering wheel as I headed out of the station and off towards the M5 motorway. To be completely honest with you though, there was a part of me that wanted to miss it…