A wake-up call

On Saturday I took advantage of the fine weather and the lull in my work schedule to walk up to the Sign of the Kiwi and back, a total distance of 16.2km. It's probably over a year since I've done this climb, and while I enjoyed it on the day I woke up the next morning with very sore legs and buttocks. I managed to make it to the supermarket and back today, but I'm still feeling the effects, which is a reminder that I still have a lot of work to do over the next three weeks before I head off to walk the Koshu Kaido.

Distance walked since last post: 19.2km
Total distance walked since Koshu Kaido training began: 249.3km
Days left until departure: 18

He had seen the dream

George Meegan arrived in Nicaragua on his walk across the Americas just after the Sandinistas took power in 1979. He got a frosty reception from some Nicaraguans who mistook him for a gringo, but as usual our resourceful hero managed to find a way around this.

With little traffic to watch out for, I dashed on at a good lick. A tiny Swiss flag that I had attached to my gear fluttered behind me. I had picked up the flag at L'Escargot, one of Anthony's swank restaurants in San Jose, and was displaying it on the theory that it would defuse hostility; after all, Switzerland (unlike Britain) had no imperial background to raise a revolutionary's ire. (In fact, I could claim some right to carrying it, for Mum was born in Switzerland.) The flag now drew the attention of a Sandinista toting a submachine gun, who signaled for me to pull over and addressed me forcefully. "You are not a Swiss. You are a Yankee bastard - pretending to be a Swiss."
"I'm not, I'm not," I protested strongly. "I'm an inglés bastard pretending to be Swiss." My clumsy admission apparently disarmed the chap, who motioned me with his gun to pass.

On the whole, though, the predominantly young Sandinista soldiers treated Meegan with respect, which is more than could be said for members of the armed forces in many other South and Central American countries he traveled through. In fact, one Sandinista literally gave him the shirt off his own back.

"Hey, gringo, where ya going?" he first said. This was on an empty stretch of road high above a valley before the town of Dario. Two young military police of the Liberation Front driving by in a jeep had stopped to question me. They got out while their girl companion waited in the vehicle.
"I'm walking through Nicaragua, your republic." At this the three of them let out a spontaneous cheer. The girl now got out of the jeep and offered me a plastic bag full of sweet ice, bound at the neck, with a straw dangling into slush. As I gratefully sucked the synthetic udder dry they asked me more questions: "Where are you from? What are you doing here?" Prodded by their enthusiasm, I revealed more than I normally do. When they learned I was English, this pleased them enormously - at least I was not an American. I finished my story: "... and I'm the only man to have walked from Argentina to Nicaragua - and I'm going to try to reach Alaska." They were speechless, simply overcome with joy. My original interrogator, a well-built fellow, now introduced himself as Bismarck, removed his shirt, and with great ceremony placed it on top of the ragged one I was wearing - "for friendship's sake," he said.
"You must be careful, Jorge," were Bismarck's last words to me as he did up the buttons. "Our sun will burn you." To this day I clearly remember, in the magic moment that followed, the chill wind singing past the telephone wire high above us. As we stood on the bleak hillside, a shirtless Sandinista and a double-shirted Englishman, we were one. He had never asked, "Why?" He knew. We were brothers; he had seen the dream.

Distance walked since last post: 14.2km
Total distance walked since Koshu Kaido training began: 230.1km
Days left until departure: 21

The food of champions

I'm almost halfway through The Longest Walk, George Meegan's account of his epic journey on foot from the bottom of South America to the top of Alaska. After a frustrating start (there were so many typos on the first few pages I almost felt like giving up), I'm now thoroughly enjoying it. Here's a brief extract which should give you a good idea of Meegan's slightly eccentric personality and endearing sense of humour.

On the approach to Puerto Supe I attained another milestone, completing 8,000 km, and by the time I reached town I was famished.
"Got any food?" I shouted up the single step of a waterfront hut, a makeshift restaurant.
"No. Have you?" came the reply from inside.
"Well, actually... yes. I have a coconut and a tomato."
"Fantastico!" And with that I was ushered inside, the great nut was cracked open with the help of a hammer, and all the family reached in. To the accompaniment of squeals of astonishment I then fried the tomato; for these people, it was like frying an orange. I assured them that all Britons do the same, which elicited further gasps. And thus the patron fed the restaurant.
The average restaurant I passed in the desert can only be described as ghastly. To keep things on the up and up, the floors are given a daily washdown with gasoline. A common story in these parts is that some hapless traveler once stubbed his cigarette out on one of these floors and everyone was lucky to escape with his life from the ensuing fire.
Cafe children were kept busy separating the good grains of rice from pebbles and other rubbish that comes in the same sack - time-wasting work that makes car washing interesting by comparison.

Meegan doesn't subscribe to what Alan Booth calls the "Protestant Walk Ethic" (i.e. eschewing all forms of road transport while on a long walk), but as he is out to establish a new record for the longest unbroken walk, whenever he does take a ride he is very careful to resume walking exactly where he left off. On one occasion he'd walked 14 km after a break of a few days in a town in Ecuador when the thought struck him that he may not have walked one four-block section in the town. Any gap in the journey would have robbed him of the record, so he went back and walked this few hundred metres.

Finally, another quote for those people wondering what (apart from coconuts and tomatoes) fueled the man who still retains the record for the world's longest walk:

I was hungry, and so after reaching the center of town, I spent a frustrating hour trying to get an onion. Of all the passions and food cravings I had in South America, the humble onion remained the king. For me a raw onion with salt on bread made a meal and provided a good vehicle for salt, which, after water, was my greatest need and desire in hot climates.

Distance walked since last post: 27.6km
Total distance walked since Koshu Kaido training began: 215.9km
Days left until departure: 24

Sad news

Thank you all for your messages of support. Sadly, Oscar's condition worsened and we reluctantly decided to have him put down. He'll be sorely missed.

He's back

Oscar came home this morning. A little thinner and dirtier, but with no apparent injuries. After giving him a welcome feed, we took him down to the vet, who thinks he may be partly blind. This would explain the wobbliness and vacant expression we noticed before he went missing. In all likelihood, he just got lost and couldn't find his way home.

The vet also thinks he may have a thyroid problem, which would explain his recent weight loss despite his almost insatiable appetite. If the results of a blood test confirm this, he'll have to go on some medication. He may not live much longer (he's well over 80 in human years), but we're determined to make his remaining time on this planet as comfortable as possible.

Oh, and he bit the vet.

Distance walked since last post: 6km
Total distance walked since Koshu Kaido training began: 188.3km
Days left until departure: 32

I got something in my eye*

The elder of our two cats has been missing for three days. Unlike when our other cat went walkabout a couple of years ago, I'm afraid there won't be a happy ending to this story.

Oscar hadn't been himself for about a week. He was a bit wobbly on his feet and his pupils were extremely dilated. The last time I saw him was around midday on Sunday, when he was poking around in my study. He didn't show up for dinner that evening, and when he missed breakfast the next morning I was pretty sure we wouldn't see him again.

I won't go on about how cute Oscar was. Cuteness wasn't his forte. He was certainly playful and entertaining as a kitten. He always loved getting inside boxes, even if they were too small. In fact, the smaller the better. We used to push open tissue boxes just to watch him dive into them with his front legs outstretched, ending up with his head and front legs out one end and his back legs and tail out the other. But he had what in humans we would probably call a personality disorder, in that he would be happily rubbing up against your leg one minute then biting it as hard as he could the next. Since he was already around a year old when we got him (the previous owners had a young child and were nervous having a cat around), we accepted no responsibility for this behaviour, although this didn't make us any less nervous when unsuspecting guests (or suspecting family members) tried to pat Oscar or less shamefaced when he bit them.

As an adult, Oscar was rather stubborn and aloof. He did like a good lap to curl up on at night, but didn't enjoy being picked up and cuddled. He was also very strong. At one point we stopped letting him sleep in our bedroom because he would wake us up very early by jumping up onto Mrs Fool's bedside table and knocking over everything on it. But come morning he would throw himself against the door in an effort to get it, making an awful racket. We had to resort to barricading the door with a suitcase to stop him gaining entry.

For the last few years, Oscar's favorite sleeping spot has been on top of the Sky TV decoder in the living room. I think he liked the warmth. It can't have been the most comfortable of places to sleep. It was hard and a bit too small. Often his head or tail would dangle over the edge of the decoder and block the infrared window so that we couldn't change channels. Once or twice he fell off while sound asleep.

So, farewell Oscar. You were a good cat.

*One of the many memorable lines from the movie Spartan. You can see more here.

Distance walked since last post: 12km
Total distance walked since Koshu Kaido training began: 182.3km
Days left until departure: 35

こいのぼりを見た。

Distance walked since last post: 33.2km
Total distance walked since Koshu Kaido training began: 170.3km
Days left until departure: 42