Can I Borrow A Kayak?

I have discovered that the route of my walk will, sadly, follow the exact line of some of the worst flooding seen in the past week.

As this image from the BBC shows, I'll be walking from near the spot that says "Warwickshire" down to Oxford, across to Marlow, Windsor and then into London. The vast majority of the walk is through open countryside, which is mostly under 5ft+ of water. The environment agency expect the flood water to take at least one week to disperse, so it's touch and go whether large sections of the route will still be submerged when I start next week.

There's no question of postponing the walk, so I guess I'll just need to adapt the route when I hit an obstacle. It certainly seems like I'm going to work a little harder to earn all that sponsorship money (there's still time to sponsor me -- please click this link!). It's rather bad luck that I choose to do this walk after the worst flooding in 15o years and during the wettest summer since records began in 1766 -- but good luck, I suppose, that I didn't plan to do it this week!

Stratford UNDER Avon: The Flood

In the past twenty four hours, two months worth of rain has fallen in the UK. The Met office said "it was the worst deluge in living memory". Here in Warwickshire, one of the worst affected counties, many towns are totally submerged under many feet of water and roads in/out are impassable. These pictures of Warwickshire and Gloucestershire (Cotswolds) give a sense of the floods. The cost of the floods? 2 billion!

Stratford has been hard hit too. The River Avon, which runs through the center of town, broke its banks yesterday afternoon and rose more than 5 feet. The flooding caused a lot of damage to the town alongside the banks and the theatres are closed. Luckily, even though we live very near to the river in the center of town, we are on a slightly higher level.... however, that didn't stop us looking at the river and worrying that all our recent building work would have an unwelcome water feature running through it! The pictures show how the town was transformed into one great lake. Hobbes had a great time swimming in it though, of course!

My drive home from work last night was more brutal than normal. The usual 1.5 hour trip took four hours because the main motorway (M40) was under water, so I weaved north on tiny roads through towns in Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire. Some poor folks had been stranded on the M5 for 15 hours. Most main roads were closed at multiple points, so it was a case of just pot-luck to see if I could get through the Cotswolds to Stratford or not. I finally got home to find my sister in law and her little boy, B & N, taking refuge at our house because their home just outside Warwick was completely cut off.

But every "cumulonimbus calvus" has a sliver lining. The torrential rain and road closures meant that Stratford was relatively quiet for........ the release of the last Harry Potter book! Yes, despite the horid drive home and being up for 22 hours, I was there in the queue at midnight to collect my copy. Those of us that braved the weather for our copies last night can confidently call ourselves true Potter fans!

The Route

As "the walk" rapidly approaches, I have worked out each stage of the walk. Here it is. I have decided to start one day later (Saturday rather than Friday) to accommodate three American friends flying in to join me for a few days. Distances are "miles from Stratford".

Saturday August 4: Stratford to Shipstone (17 miles)
Sunday August 5: Shipstone to Chipping Norton (31 miles)
Monday August 6: Chipping Norton to Woodstock (47 miles)
Tuesday August 7: Woodstock to Toot Baldon (65 miles)
Wednesday August 8: Toot Baldon to Cookley Green (81 miles)
Thursday August 9: Cookley Green to Bourne End (99 miles)
Friday August 10: Bourne End to Iver (116 miles)
Saturday August 11: Iver to Kew Bridge (130 miles)
Sunday August 12: Kew Bridge to Globe Theatre, London (146 miles... phew)

For the Chop

Not that anyone but the residents of our little street in the center of Stratford cares, but today a landmark tree was cut down because of trumped up health and safety concerns from a nanny-state local council. OK, I'll come off the fence and say that anyone with an ounce of brain matter knows it doesn't make sense to cut down trees just for the hell of it. Sadly, Stratford Upon Avon council thinks differently, and it has caused quite a stir in our local community, as this story shows.

Here's the chronology of death for a beautiful old silver birch tree. Not sure how they'll remove the body that they have so gamely painted orange.

Rowayton, Connecticut, US

After an intense few days of back to back meetings in Connecticut, I escaped the office with my boss for a well deserved dinner and large glass of wine. We eat at the Rowayton Seafood Restaurant, nestled on the banks of the Long Island Sound. If you ever wanted to see picture-postcard America, this town and restaurant are a slice of genuine East Coast, blue blooded Americana. And the food was as good as the views!

Hidcote Manor, Cotswolds

At the weekend, we took "the olds" to the second most spectacular English country garden we know -- Hidcote Manor in the Cotswolds, luckily only 15 minutes from our home. Paradoxically, it was designed by an American called Lawrence Johnston who was born in France and later became a Colonel in the British Army, fighting in the Boer and First World War. In between world travels and battles, he managed to design this gorgeous garden. Its now a National Trust property and a day walking through the intricate and densly populated gardens-within-a-garden design leaves one speechless. It's even a great day out for kids, because there are plenty of places to run and lots of nooks to explore.

Here's just a couple of pics, but they don't even come close to capturing the subtle beauty of this garden in summer.

Oh, and THE most spectacular English country garden? It has to be "The Lost Gardens of Heligan" in Cornwall, of course...........

Tropical Connecticut, US

The bad weather seems to be following me around! After two weeks of torrential rain in the South of France and UK, I arrived in New York to 30 degree heat and pouring rain. It sounds crazy to say, but the humidity was also very high. When I walked out of the airport terminal, not only did I get soaked, but the temperature difference/humidity made my glasses steam up like I had just walked into a sauna. Arriving at my usual hotel in Greenwich, Connecticut (about 40 minutes outside NYC), the climate made the forest in the foyer (pictured here) seem like a tropical jungle.

Keeping up my fitness regime for the upcoming walk, I did my regular run this morning at 6am in the Hyatt gym. I'm no fan of gyms -- in fact, I hate them -- so I thought that an early visit would spare me the embarrassment of other "fitter" Americans outpacing me on the adjoining treadmill. In fact, the gym was packed and, judging by the rather thick atmosphere in the very confined space, it had been sweating the stress out of a quite a few corporate animals for many hours already.

The one treat at the end of my run -- iced towels!! Yep, the towels were doused in water and then stuck in the fridge at a low temperature. Oh, the bliss.

Huge Thanks to Early Sponsors

After just three weeks and only one begging email, my friends, family and colleagues have donated nearly 900 pounds to the Shakespeare Hospice. Incredible! I want to thank everyone who has sponsored me so far and remind you that your donation has been doubled by my company -- which means that one month before I start "the walk" we have raised nearly 2000 pounds (that's US$4000)!!!

Every single penny you have donated will make a huge difference to people as they end their life at home with the professional support of the staff at the Shakespeare Hospice.

I have also got something out of this walk already -- the realisation that I have such generous and supportive people all around me. My sincere thanks to those of you who have taken the time to donate -- from as far away as the USA (California, New York and Connecticut), The Bahamas, Trinidad & Tobago, Hong Kong, Australia, South Africa, Sweden, Finland and, of course, all over the UK.

If you haven't already visited my sponsorship web site (see link on right or click here), please do!! Or if you'd like to find out more about the Shakespeare Hospice or why I'm doing this before you decide to sponsor me, please don't hesitate to email/call me.

South of France

We spent last week in the South of France in a delightful house near the village of Najac in the Aveyron valley. It's a gorgeous, rural and unspoilt area of the country. Sadly though, we did not escape the terrible weather that has plagued Northern Europe for the past few weeks. We saw a lot -- and I mean a lot -- of rain last week and it was pretty cold on occassions. The poor weather didn't stop us enjoying ourselves though.

We visited the incredible new viaduct at Millau designed by British architect Sir Norman Foster, the tallest vehicular bridge in the world. Probably not surprisingly, the French seem to have neglected to highhlight that this spectactular bridge was designed by a Brit -- and the English are rather miffed that the French could build it so perfectly without a ten year delay.

We also explored a few beautiful local towns such as San Antonin and bored the pants off B with tours of ruined castles and chateaus. We did get one day of good weather to enjoy by the pool -- luckily the freezing water shocked my nervous system so much upon diving in that it removed all traces of the cold I had developed in the previous days!

Cumulis Humilis Congestis (?!)

When was the last time that you actually looked up and "saw" clouds? I don't mean just seeing if it was going to rain, but actually took a minute to look at all the different types of clouds in the sky? Think I've finally lost the plot?

As kids, I think we can all remember a time when an afternoon lying on our back and seeing what clouds resembled constituted a perfectly reasonable way to waste time. It was just such a fond and distant memory that came back to me when I came across this book on our recent holiday in Cornwall: The Cloudspotters Guide. As a result of reading it, I now look up in the sky every day to see what's up there (usually while driving, though not recommended) -- and bore senseless my friends with latin names that sound totally made up on the spot such as "Nimbocumulous Opacus" or "Stratus Fractus Translucidous". But I have to admit, if I'm not sure what a particular genus of cloud is that I'm looking at, it does get described as "Man with bird on shoulder" or "dragon eating a car".

You should read this delightful review of the book, and the author, in the Washington Post. And you can learn more by visiting the Cloud Appreciation Society web site. Needless to say, my membership is currently being processed and I hope to sport my saddo t-shirt soon!

The serious outcome of the book is that I will be able to (in a limited way) forecast the weather each day on my fast-approaching walk from Stratford to London. And when I don't have my head in a map navigating the route, I'll enjoy brushing up on my cloud spotting skills.

(I'll use this opportunity to clear my concience and apologise to a colleague at work who I recently bored rigid with talk of cloud varieties on a two hour flight back from Barcelona. Sadly for him, the fasten seat belt sign and a stern BA trolly-dolly prevented his numerous attempts at escaping. Sorry.)

Views along the run

Here's a few pictures that piece together the views along my usual run. It's totally blurred to me because a) I wear thick glasses and I don't run in them b) I'm usually "head down" trying to get to the end. But tonight I took a few pics along the way. The weather was foul, but it gives you an idea.

The run starts with Hobbes setting the pace down the street from our home behind Holy Trinity church to the theatre park by the river Avon (pic 1), through to the Swan Theatre (pic 2), then on to boat basin and over the bridge that overlooks the soon to be renovated Royal Shakespeare Theatre (pic 3), along the other side of the river Avon passing Holy Trinity church again on the right (pic 4) into the final iPod "power song" 1/4 mile stretch back to the house. Phew. Hobbes finds his own way to cool off (pic 5), thanks to our English summer rain.

Holy Trinity church is where William Shakespeare and his family are buried. It attracts about a quarter of a million tourists a year. The scaffolding around the spire (pictured above) has been up for about a year because there is an extensive amount of careful restoration work being done. The church was originally built in the early 13th century -- I guess it's about time it got a new roof.

The Route

At the weekend, I bought the maps to help me plan and navigate the walk. They are illustrated here, from Stratford on the left, through the Cotswolds, Oxford, Chilterns hills and finally London on the right. It's quite a hefty bunch of maps, which got me thinking about the amount of kit I'll need to carry on this journey. I'm already thinking about mailing pre-paid envelopes to the B&B's that I plan to stay at on the route so that I can mail back used maps... hmmm.... maybe I can simply mail back dirty laundry too so that my pack gets lighter the further I go? Wouldn't want to open those jiffy envelopes a week later!

Training for the walk is going well. Three weeks after starting to run again, I have shaved off seven minutes from my original time. I took a GPS with me during my lunchtime run today and recorded the details so that I can see improvements (anyone who works with me will audibly groan that I use metrics in my personal life too!) The stats were grim, but a hell of a lot better than three weeks ago. The GPS told me that my regular run is 1.26 miles long and I ran it today in 13 mins 27 seconds, which is an average of about 5 miles per hour. My fastest speed was 13 miles per hour, which I must confess probably coincided with running past the long queue of female university students waiting for returned tickets to see King Lear outside the Royal Shakespeare Theatre. Needless to say, I probably kept the pace until I turned the thankfully close corner.

Finally, I'm a little closer to my sponsorship target thanks to very first donation coming from Christy in California and, of course, thanks dad! There's a link now on this page to the "just giving" web site -- it's easy for anyone to donate from anywhere in the world.......

Sponsor Me Please!

If you'd like to sponsor my walk from Stratford to London (see below) in aid of the Shakespeare Hospice, you can do it quickly and easily by visiting my "Just Giving" web site with your credit card.

If you are in the UK, the tax man will add 28p to every penny you donate. If you are outside the UK, it's easy to donate with your credit card. My company will match all donations up to a limit of one thousand pounds. So, if I reach my target, we'll donate two thousand pounds to an incredible charity that makes a huge difference to those that need help at the end of their life.

Every penny counts, so please do sponsor me. Go on, be the first!!!

You Lied, Mr Nike Salesman

After a week of running (see previous post), I have shaved a gratifying 90 seconds off my usual run. But no, Mr. all-smiles-and-warm-reassurance-Nike-salesman, the running shoes you sold me have not miraculously transformed my out-of-shape hulk into the guy in your advert overnight. And given the constant embarrassment of puffing and panting past throngs of tourists representing every nation on earth here in my home town, I'll be more than happy with the "skin-deep-look-cool-when-running" you promised me over the "deep-down-working-damn-hard-to-actually-get-fitter" option I'm currently experiencing!

The bottom line? I guess adverts lie. As a man in PR, I find this shocking.

The implied message that I so gladly bought into was that, like the guy in their Nike TV commercial, one day (very soon) I'd throw on my new running shoes and go show off my incredible cardio fitness to admiring onlookers as I pound the city streets. How far from reality am I! But one thing I do agree with -- the influence of the "power track" on your iPod. I have quickly realized that my usual choice of music, jazz, isn't going to help me forget those worsening stomach cramps. Oh no. So I dug out what K affectionately terms "dad rock" ('90's band the"Primal Scream" - quite literally a good choice) and cranked it up loud. Yes, it took my mind off the pain and focused my thoughts better, but it also had another positive benefit; I could no longer hear myself gasping for air.

The Great Stratford Run

There's no way that I'll enjoy walking 146 miles in nine days if I'm not fit enough. So, with much ceremony, including the donning of new running shoes and strenuous looking stretches to impress the dog, I left the house yesterday lunchtime for my first training run.

Now, I used to be fit. I played hockey three times a week for Thames Valley and Wellington College, regularly biked for many-a-mile and still slog up the mountains of the British Isles on a fairly regular basis. But it was pretty darn obvious a quarter of a mile into my run that my mind was cashing cheques my body had no intention of cashing. I was honestly amazed that there were areas of my upper body that were moving to an independent rythmn from the rest of me. That belly wasn't there the last time I went for a run -- four years ago!

As I reached the half-mile stage, the endorphins were replacing oxygen in my lungs and brain, inducing a rapidly escalating sense of shock at my pitifully poor state of fitness.

By the three quarter mile stage, I realized that I had made a huge mistake in my route selection for this inaugral run. Working from home yesterday, I decided to run along the bank of the River Avon out of town, across a bridge and re-enter the town by the theatre and return home via the opposite bank. Sounds idillic, right? Wrong. Picture my alarm as I crossed the bridge into the summer throng of visitors to Stratford from every nation on earth. I tried my very best to straighten my back, tidy up my stride and look at least half-decent for a man of my relatively young age, but within a few yards I had reverted to my sweating, panting, half-deranged looking stupor. The Japanese coach party looked genuinely alarmed, the German family backed off and I could swear I heard an American tourist shout "it ain't worth it, buddy". OK, so I exaggerate, but I know I wasn't a pretty site weaving my way through the crowds.

This agony amd embarrassment lasted all of 18 minutes and about a mile. In a word, I'd sum up my start as rather pathetic. But, on the bright side as I sit here munching unrepentently on a bar of Green and Blacks chocolate, it can only get better. I plan to run 1 or 2 miles four times per week in June, increasing to three miles in July, ready for the walk in August. Starting was the hardest bit, and I'm determined to work at it to get fitter.

So yep -- my legs ache terribly today -- and I know that when I run tomorrow, I'm going to experience how it's going to get a whole lot harder before it gets better.

The Shakespeare's Way: Coming Summer '07

On August 4th, I plan to walk 146 miles from the birthplace of Shakespeare, about 600 yards from our house here in Stratford Upon Avon, to his first theatre situated on the South Bank of the river Thames in London.... in nine days.

It's a long distance path called, not unsurprisingly, "Shakespeare's Way". It meanders through, in my humble opinion, some of the most gloriously beautiful countryside in England called The Cotswolds, including towns such as Chipping Norton, Woodstock, Oxford, Marlow, Windsor and Kew, culminating in a final stretch along the Thames past Westminster to the Globe Theatre.

Linking this huge network of individual public right's of way together was the work of an incredible gentleman called Peter Titchmarsh, who lives in Stratford. He also founded the "MacMillan Way", a walk of 290 miles that links the west and east coast's of England. Both the "Shakespeare's Way" and "MacMillan Way" are dedicated to the work of two similar charitable organizations (Shakespeare Hospice and Macmillan Nurses) that provide palliative care to people with terminal illnesses, enabling people to receive the best possible hollistic support as they die. I'll be doing this walk to raise money for the Shakespeare Hospice, so be prepared to give generously!

Each day, I plan to walk between 15 and 20 miles, depending on the terrain and places to stay. I haven't decided yet whether I'll camp, B&B or do a combination of both. I need to spend a couple of evenings studying the maps.

The walk is nearly all through countryside, so it will take a lot of navigation. Anyone who has walked in "the real country" around England will know that there are occassional signs along fences, on gates and near roads, but the route will almost entirely require a large scale map, concentration and a bit of luck (aka a GPS!).

It will also require a better level of fitness than I currently have. Urgh. Most people, if not all, could walk 20 miles in a long day over a gently undulating landscape. But everything feels a little stiff the following day -- so after nine days of solid walking without a rest day, I fully expect that its going to be a little challenge.

So to ensure that it doesn't turn out to be a week of blisters and flayling legs (this is my idea of holiday, afterall!), I'm going to spend a couple of months getting in shape. How hilarious is that?!

Tomorrow, I'm going on my first run!!!

Barcelona, Spain

Last week, I spent a few days in Barcelona for one of our major European events. It was a real flying visit, cramming four days into two and a half. Barcelona is a gorgeous city -- or so they tell me. All I saw was the inside of taxi's, a hotel and the conference center. We did venture out for one evening and had a lovely dinner (at 8pm, which is really early by local standards -- they normally START at 10pm!!) by the harbour -- I don't recall the name. Other than that, I didn't have a chance to snap a pic, so I'll have to make do with this shot from the web to provide a taster for the city (it's really big!). I think we'll need to go back.

St. Ives, Cornwall

If Cornwall is God's country, St. Ives is the capital. We just love the place. Here's a couple of pictures that show why. Unfortunately, the weather was not so great this year -- actually, it was dreadful! But we had a good time despite being wet for a week.

English Country Life

K sent this short documentary film over this morning and it really does sum up English country life.

The Perfect Martini

A friend shared this article in the New York Times on the perfect Martini, as I do like a tipple of gin (or two) -- especially my favorite, Hendricks. After reading this review, I look forward to trying them all!