Langkawi – Our Home By The Sea

It was an early start as we sat in the lobby of the Paradox Merchant Court, Singapore, waiting for our car to turn up.

We scoffed down a boxed up breakfast prepared by the friendly staff. On getting to the airport we discovered that our flight was on the drag. We didn’t think it would matter too much as both flights were no more than about 50 minutes each in the air. Although there wasn’t really a great time allowed for transit when we arrived at Kuala Lumpur airport the small window, wide open had we departed Changi on time was, slowly, swinging shut. On arrival at KL those transferring to Langkawi were ushered off the plane, hurried along the sky-bridge and into the terminal.

In our case, remember I get assistance, we were placed on a golf buggy type of vehicle. Nice and smooth but the driver felt he was auditioning for the, yet to be vacated, position at Mercedes after Lewis Hamilton departs. Jane was also on board on this occasion. Over the next couple of weeks we were to enjoy some exhilarating trips on boats around the waterways of Malaysia and Thailand. This, though, probably provided the most thrilling white-knuckle ride of the lot. In and out of passengers, minding their own business, reading signboards, chatting with friends or simply dawdling along studying their phones were left traumatised in our slipstream. Imagine their shock as this turbo-charged golf buggy raced past at only just below the speed of sound, knocking hats off as we went and forcing bags open in the wake of our passing. We arrived at Departures and boarded with time to spare, even had a moment for a comfort break. Phew!

What a wonderful experience it was to arrive on the, clearly beautiful, island of Langkawi. I love it when we disembark a plane via a motorised staircase. You step out of the air conditioned coolness of the aircraft straight into the humid furnace, if there is such a thing, of the Langkawi sunshine. This sudden change of temperature always makes me feel we have been transported into another world and the holiday can begin. In no time at all we were at the fantastic Casa del Mar hotel.

Note to Freedom Destinations: why did we need to fly through KL when there are direct flights from Singapore to Langkawi.

We were shown to our generous, but perfectly neat, bungalow. Talk about a beachside holiday this, indeed, was, to my mind, the ultimate in beachside locations. One of the resort’s straplines is “Your Home By The Sea,” and how true it is: a gorgeous paradise. To be fair, there was a swimming pool in between us and the beach, so it wasn’t quite stepping out of the front door onto the sand.

I always assess health and safety and thought we might be a little vulnerable to a tsunami but, on the other hand, I guessed that the wave might have lost much of its energy by the time it reached us it would resemble a ripple on a village pond. That assumption was not based on science but absolute optimism. Beautiful!

This was where we would spend Christmas. Wonderful! After a stroll along the beach where we were able to watch all sorts of scary water-sports going on, a sort of beach club and some fisherman loitering by their boats offering excursions out to sea, we headed for the bar. It just seemed like the right thing to do. We were, after all, on holiday. Alan Jackson came to mind as it was a little before, actually quite a lot before, five in the afternoon, but…

The VI Guide and Me:
Sandringham Parkrun

What is a VI Guide? I'll tell you in a minute. First off, I need to point out a couple of anomalies.

When I first heard of a VI Guide, I was under the impression it was a Six Guide. What on earth does that mean, I wondered? Thing is, my phone and computer employ text-to-speech programmes which, in the main, are brilliant, allow me to access many things that you sighted people take for granted. Just maybe, it needs a little refining occasionally. I had to go through the letters one at a time. Ah, I said to myself. That’s it! It was Roman for six! Yeah, no idea why either. Secondly, there is the abbreviation VI? Visually Impaired? The way it is written suggests, to me anyway, that it is the guide who is visually impaired. Conjures up images of the blind leading the blind!

Of course, this was not the case.

Jane, on this particular day, was acting the tail-walker, at our home meet, Sandringham. That meant we turned up at an unearthly hour, just so she could get her briefing. It was a miserable morning, the light appearing crepuscular, glowering grey clouds with a persistent drizzle, occasionally broken, by heavier rain. It was worth it, though, as far as everyone was aware, I was the first visually impaired participant, to be escorted around the course by a registered guide. I was treated like Royalty from the minute I arrived; quite fitting for the surroundings. Next time, I will go and knock on the King’s door, ask for shelter, whilst waiting for the preambles to reach their conclusion. What are the chances? Tea, black, no sugar. Thank you.

Jane spotted the guide standing apart from the horde. Perhaps he was going to be the shy and retiring type? I had already spoken to Nik Bryan on the phone and I didn’t think he was that. Maybe this bloke was there for someone else. This young man certainly was my man and, I can tell you, he is not on the back foot when it comes to coming forward. You can take the boy out of Air Corps but you cannot take Air Corps out of the boy. He looked like, sounded like and walked like the ex-soldier he was. I decided from the first few seconds that I was in very capable hands.

The friendliness of the Parkrun community never fails to surprise me. There is applause for just about everything before we get down to business. First timers, tourists from far away, people achieving Parkrun landmarks and, most of all and most deserved, for the incredible volunteers.

I was, therefore, slightly blown away when the attendees put their hands together to greet me as the first known blind competitor at this event. I nearly blushed. Nik took the microphone and told everyone how to behave. You told me you were a Corporal, I thought, how did you not make Sergeant Major?

Now it was time for the tether. Visions of me wearing a dog collar and Nik holding a lead had haunted me all week. Nothing like it. It was a length of elastic, about 500mm or so long, with a loop at each end. He held one end, and guess what? I held the other.

The klaxon sounded and we were off. We stepped in towards the back of the field, letting everyone except the tail-walkers go before us. We progressed at a steady, perhaps a little sedentary, pace to begin with.

Nik’s instructions were clear right from the get-go. He told me of every turn, every change of surface, every time we had to pass someone, every tree root, always a challenge for the sighted at Sandringham, let alone the unsighted, and every rise and dip in the ground level. There were many more directions, too numerous to mention.

Marshalls, other runners and, even, the occasional dog walker were at one with each other, offering their sincerest plaudits as we made our way. Some said we were inspirational, some said they were proud of us and some clapped as we went past. This, combined with Nik’s brilliant navigation, made me feel about ten feet tall.

The best was yet to come, as we emerged from the woods for the last time, it is a two circuit run, many people applauded us home over the last hundred metres or so. Wow! I didn’t, but I nearly shed a tear. Another personal best 37 minutes 31 seconds. This PB thing seems pretty straightforward to me!

To finish off, the pair of us were posing for photographs left, right and centre; we even had one or two taken from behind. Yeah, there is a good reason for that, look at the photos.
Until now, I thought Parkrun was brilliant. Now, however, I think it is among the best things I have ever done. Having a guide just makes it incredibly accessible for me. And, my word, I have been so lucky in life.

Come on all runners, go and qualify as a VI Guide; come on all blind people, if you are able, get down to your local Parkrun and give it a go. You’ll never look back, so to speak!

Thanks must go to Parkrun, Sandringham Parkrun, Claire Whalley, the Run Director, Sarah Byatt, whom I constantly badger at Sandringham Parkrun, and all the volunteers. None of you will be told enough, but every single one of you makes people like me happy every week. You are invaluable to our little community. A big personal thank you to Nik for giving up his valuable time. Finally, my gratitude is extended to all the entrants, without your appreciation and understanding, people like me would not be able to do this.

Jane posted up, as usual, our achievements on social media. My sister saw it and Whatsapped me. She said it made her and her tribe feel proud of me.

Finally, the tears came! Or, was it that Ipswich Town lost 4 – 1 to Manchester City?

Next time, Jane, Nik and I will be visiting Hunstanton Parkrun. See how we get on in the blog.