Sheffield was so civilised, a walker of pilgrimage routes declared after he had given a talk at Off the Shelf on his books about walking-about to ‘holy places’.
He said he then caught the next train south to the ancient land of the barbarians, somewhere in the vicinity of London.
He said he then caught the next train south to the ancient land of the barbarians, somewhere in the vicinity of London
Or was it the Land of the Barbican he meant?
Anyway ,I’ve been mulling over and over this “so” or was it “very, civilised” wording to describe Sheffield, rather flippantly expelled from the mouth of a professional pilgrim.
I mean, not what on earth was he on about; more, what was he on?
I’d put my money on it being three or more pints of local ale, for after all, our wonderful local brewed beers bespeak for some, visions of wonder and a host of other sensuous and hoppily civilised ponderings.
Methinks that like any pilgrim who sets out on the path to perdition or elsewhere, he had journeyed with preconceived ideas about Sheffield.
And when he got here, well it just was not what he was expecting.
God (the God of pilgrims at least) knows what these ideas were but I don’t and God ain’t telling me, so it’s time that I admit to my own recent pilgrimagings.
I’ve been to the far off Land of Can Do (aka Canada) where on the west coast there live two Flaneurs Exemplaires! John E (the Compassionate) and Flying Phil from Parksville.
I had been yearning to be near them both to experience again their fine flanery first hand.
I finally caught up with John E in the city of Victoria, British Columbia as he was meticulously donning duds for his morning walk.
He is a man who has been to Sheffield in the past (when he was not quite a flaneur yet) and who took the rare opportunity (for a Canadian at least) to dry-ski at the then Sheffield Ski Village.
Very civilised, he declared as he kicked off his skis and sloped down to the Gardeners Rest.