Aiming to complete the 20 walks in 20 weeks means I need to keep some momentum going, so given it was dry this morning and over a week since my last walk (due to a short break, weather, and life), I thought I should make the most of the opportunity and get on with the next one. I set off after breakfast, thinking that given I was feeling tired and achey, as well as being stressed after a busy week that I would take things slowly, aim for a peaceful walk, and enjoy the space.

The empty Prom – Heysham end

It seemed quiet, but my mind was noisy, thinking about all kinds of things at once, which isn’t what I wanted at all. I decided to try and concentrate on one thing. What I could see wasn’t a good idea, there was so much all the time, and given my general current aches I didn’t think what I could feel, especially from the start would be helpful; so I decided to spend the walk listening.

There were two sounds I was immediately aware of, the rustle of my coat as i walked with my arms swinging and the steady ’step, step, step,’ of my shoes hitting the path as I walked. For a few minutes I listened to the rhythm of my steps, letting the ’step, step, step’ still me a little. Then I began to listen more carefully.

I could hear very, very distant traffic. It was, at this point a low hum in the background.

A bike, with a soft whizzing noise as it went fast and quiet.

A thud as a ball thrown for a dog hit the damp sand on the beach.

The rather distinctive loud chirp of the oystercatchers (listen here)

A laugh from someone in response to the person they were walking with.

A single bark from a dog.

Music that slowly became louder and then faded as the person playing it walked towards and then past me in the opposite direction.

and Step Step Step as I continued into the second mile.

Further on, into the West End, and some more traffic noise, this time closer, instead of a low hum, i can hear engine noise now.

Then some clanging and industrial screwdriver bolty thing noise. A house overlooking the prom is having scaffolding put up. I rather like the fact they have a dinosaur on their van.

I hear people chatting as the walk past me, or I walk past them. People noise.

A mother with a pram, I hear her footsteps, and the squeak from the wheels.

Dustbin Lorry

Then, at the Battery, a louder engine noise, this time from a dustbin lorry. It is at the side of the car park, engine running, and I wonder if it is the same one that will call by our house today.

Most of the sounds I am hearing now are ones I have already heard. There is more people noise, odd words float over to me…’hairdresser’, ’in the 70s’ and I vaguely wonder what the two different conversations were about.

The bird noise is different now. There are seagulls shouting, and song coming from little tweety birds. I don’t know all the different birds, I’d like to and look them up, but then forget. I recognise that we have several, or at least two different gulls and I see a pied wagtail.

A sudden electric whizzing noise, far different to the much softer one from a bicycle, and an electric disability scooter goes past, faster than I am walking and faster than than I thought they went.

A regular ’thumpthumpthumpthump’ quick short thumps, one after another and a runner overtakes me. His footsteps are different to the joggers, theirs are longer, with more space in between ween, but different again to my step, step, step.

Another dog, but this time I can hear the rattle of the extendible lead as it lengthens and shortens.

The golden fish

The traffic noise is more continual now. I am going through the central area after all and to take a break from that noise, I take the back route, behind the arena, past the lifeboat station and the golden fish.

I begin to hear more children now, shouts and laughs as I pass the tellytubby hill playground.

By the clocktower, and I hear thuds as a toddler jumps off the low wall.
Further up another toddler shouting ’Wheeeeee’ as they go down a slope towards the beach.

After I pass the second playground – the pirate boat, along with the town hall and boats, I wonder if it will get quieter, I am out of the busiest section now.

Boats
Clouds

There may be less people noise, but the traffic noise is still continual. I haven’t been able to hear my own steps for a while. The wind that was just a background noise at first is also more noticeable. It doesn’t howl or blast as it sometimes can, but is a low rumble around me. (Cloud photo taken much earlier in the walk, but fits better when talking about wind, and too interesting not to use.)

A crash, then another. I look and house over the road is having a roof replaced, the old tiles are being thrown into a skip.

I am in the last mile now, and glad to be. I am much tireder than I had realised, my shoulder is aching, my lower back around my hip is aching.

A beeping noise. The pedestrian crossing is being used near Happy Mount Park. People using the free roadside parking and visiting the park, as we have so often. There are several families heading that way, it is mid morning now in school holidays.

Work

I can see the end, but it isn’t the quieter end that I might normally expect. There are voices, banging, engine noises, and what sounds like warning beeps. A small crane of sorts, lifting what looks like metal onto the sea defences, with several workmen. I walk past them, they are right on the corner at the Hest Bank end of the prom and end the walk, checking the stats. I didn’t find out what they were doing as Darren arrived to pick me up, and although I had to go back past them and down a little to where he had parked, I couldn’t tell.

4.77 miles (so the longer options are not much longer) 1 hour and 49 minutes.
Thank you to everyone who has donated to the work done by West End Impact so far. I am challenging myself to do these 20 walks in 20 weeks, in order to support them and there are details on the How to Donate page, where you can donate to their crowdfunder appeal. Matched funds means that your donation will be doubled and it runs until May.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.