I told you it was going to be a sunny day.
Which was no mere coincidence, of course. In fact, we let several days go by since the lockdown in our area had been lifted. Because there was no way we would let our first post-Covid 19 walk since what felt more like an imprisonment with every passing day be spoilt by the weather.
No, siree: no clouds would be allowed to rain on our parade – or even cast a shadow over it.
If you are still in the stage of planning your own first post-Covid 19 walk, this is the first of three pieces of advice I would give you: make no compromises on the weather, none at all. Glorious is just about good enough.
Not everybody can celebrate their newly regained freedom by roaming the foothills of the Alps or the Mediterranean coast, but this is no excuse for not making this a special occasion.
“The real voyage of discovery”, says Marcel Proust, “consists not of seeking new landscapes, but of having new eyes.”
Advice number 2: keep it simple. The period when we were forced to “stay at home” may be over, and aren’t we grateful for that, but this is not yet the time to stray too far afield.
The reasons for this are partly logistical. Public transport is still sketchy in many places, and nature reserves under the control of the government – such as national parks – may not yet be fully open or operational.
On top of that, there are no places to eat – or to stop by for a cup of coffee when you need to go to the loo.
More things go into preparing for a hike than drawing up a route and putting on the right shoes.
But there is another reason for “staying local”. This is the perfect time for making discoveries by looking at something familiar.
Go and see for yourself: your own home town will look different from an unusual angle, or from a rarely walked uphill road at the edge of town (Menton certainly looked unfamiliar to us)…
… and you will spot things that you knew were there but had forgotten about.
All beauty in our lives is, sadly, subject to one of the truly Iron Laws of human existence, the one which says that we only appreciate the blessings we enjoy – from hot and cold running water to the freedom of stepping out of our homes whenever we want to – when we are suddenly deprived of them.
And then again, when they are restored – but for a short while only.
For me, this “thing I had forgotten about” were the ornamental frieze paintings that you can see on virtually every building in our area, on either side of the French-Italian border.
These paintings – whether abstract or representational, monochrome or bursting with colour – are a wonderful example for the “everyday beauty” which, according to the philosopher Roger Scruton, should be the true objective of all vernacular architecture. “To create art you need imagination and talent; to create everyday beauty you need only humility and respect.
In everyday building it is as risky to stand out, to dominate, to be boastful and ‘iconic’ as it is in social gatherings. Everyday beauty is a matter of manners, not style.”
Advice number 3: In the initial stages of your walk, you will, inevitably, be following a route that you have walked before. At some stage, however, you should take a turn into an unfamiliar side street, a scruffy little footpath. A step into the unknown.
We were not sure where the narrow footpath that we took – and that went flat to the right where the main path continued up Menton’s St Michel hill – would eventually lead us.
Or whether it would lead us anywhere at all, rather than just ending against a wall or in a fly tipping site.
But we soon found out that it certainly was full of unexpected things – such as plants of a size you would not necessarily expect to find this side of Chernobyl.
Sections of the trail led through a dense, almost forest-like landscape …
… but ultimately, this landscape opened up, and you found yourself walking underneath a dome of clear blue skies with the slopes of the near-by mountains by your side.
Eventually, the path merged into a proper walking trail near a viewing point where you not got only a splendid, almost 360-degree view of the mountains but also could consult one of these round or semi-circular orientation maps that tell you how all these mountains are called and how high they are.
I found out to my astonishment that some of these mountains – which I had seen almost every day from a distance – were well over 1000 metres high.
Mont Agel – the one whose summit is encircled by a clearly discernible ring of military fortifications – would, at 1148 metres, be the highest peak in quite a few European countries, not only the usual flat-as-a-pancake suspects but also places such as Ireland, Hungary and England. (It would also be top in 21 out of 50 US states.)
There is also a viewing platform near-by with a few benches from where you can have a rest and enjoy the panorama.
You see: good things happen if you walk off the well-trodden path.
Just remember: no matter where you live, there is always something to discover. Something you had never seen before – or something you have been seeing too many times.
Familiarity breeds blindness, and sometimes it takes a Covid-enforced break from your routines to learn how to see again.
Always remember: “The real voyage of discovery”, says Marcel Proust, “consists not of seeking new landscapes, but of having new eyes.”
