Whitstable Parkrun

I feel we are now genuine Parkrun tourists. I know we are based at Sandringham, and although we have taken part in other Norfolk events, this felt real. To take part in Whitstable we had to stay out for at least one night. To be fair, we were on a planned five night break in Kent. I think we selected Whitstable because it had a Parkrun. Maybe we chose the hotel first and then found out there was a Parkrun nearby? Really not sure!

A massive thank you to the Crescent Turner Hotel, about three miles from the Parkrun, for getting up early, and making breakfast for us. We sat down at seven instead of the standard eight o’clock. I would not hesitate in recommending the CTH, as a place to stay, if you are a Parkrun tourist. They could not have been more accommodating. There are a host of other events within a short drive of the hotel as well.

Not sure how easy the parking was, we allowed plenty time to get there. As it happened, it was most convenient, on Marine Parade, right alongside the course. Jane and I walked a lap, for her to highlight any challenging features, before the hordes arrived. The weather conditions were sublime, sunny with not a drop of wind. Although it did not take anything away from the atmosphere, it did come over a little hazy before we got going. We were meant to be joined by Jane’s cousin, Keith, and a few of his friends. When it came to making our way to the start, though, there was still no sign of them.

I was to be guided by another VI Guide, this time a lady, Kim Carter. Kim was terrific and, I am afraid to say, we pretty much hit it off right from the get-go. I don’t think we stopped nattering all the way round. Every now and again she would warn me of an obstacle or something.

The course consisted of two laps. East along the concrete promenade, nearly as far as the Tankerton Bay Sailing Club, positioned on the North Kent coast, followed by a short, sharply steep hill, before returning along the greensward at the top. There were a few more obstacles to negotiate , including a number of concrete paths that crossed the grass. Sometimes these just stood proud of the surface, making them very capable of catching a silly old blind man out. Just somehow, though, Kim was able to break into our cosy chit-chat to warn me of the trip hazards.

I think the most challenging part of the course was the precipitous hill that led back down to the prom. I found myself accelerating and out of control but, just somehow, we negotiated the turn at the bottom without disaster. Kim and I were not tethered to one another, we both expected the other to bring the leash, but she prodded, pushed and pulled me to stop me tripping over things. Every now and again she found the time to give me some good and clear audio instructions. Despite my right leg, that wasn’t working properly, we managed to trot for all but about fifty metres or so.

A great time was had by all. Jane achieved yet another PB. By the way, the Brentwood mob, Izzy, Keith, Kelly and Lisa turned up with, as Kelly claimed, about thirty seconds to spare; not sure you had that much in hand, Kelly! Great to see you all again, though.

As usual, big thank yous all round: to Run Director, Sue Yoxall and her team of tremendous Marshalls, without whom these events could not take place. People like me could not take part without the co-operation and awareness of the other participants; thank you for putting up with me.

Afterwards, we retired to the Marine Hotel with the Essex crew for some much appreciated coffee before limping off in search of an early lunch.

Jane and I had a great time and, hopefully, will be back some time next year. Next time, however, we are returning to Hunstanton, along with VI Guide, Nik Bryan; I think Jane is sniffing another PB!

White Cane Ratings*

Car Park: very good; on nearby road; free - 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯(4)
Welcome: very good; friendly - 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯(4)
Atmosphere: very good - 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯(4)
Course: good; two devilish hills, a few obstacles - 🦯 🦯 🦯(3)
Marshalling: very good - 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯(4)

*These ratings are how the event suits a blind person, and are my opinion only; they are not scientific. Whatever happens no-one must be put off by me. The best way to learn about something is try it for yourself.

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Langkawi Continued: Christmas Dinner

…Not too much rest for the wicked. We went out in search of a cash machine. My word, it was a different world away from the resort. There were pavements, which in theory were plenty wide enough, but they were blocked by all sorts of clutter. Abandoned motorbikes, impromptu gatherings of locals complete with garden chairs and tables and every description of street furniture. I will never ever complain about the state of British pavements, sidewalks, footpaths or whatever again. Of course, I am telling fibs! I love a good whinge. I found it all a bit too challenging but, as ever, my trusty guide, Jane, was there to help me negotiate every obstacle known to man.

There were ditches running alongside the pavement which, I swear, were so deep it would take minutes to hit the bottom if you fell into them rather than seconds. And, dare I say it, there hadn’t been any rain for a while and the water, well, had become a little ponky. It was quite an assault on all of my other senses even taste as I was sure I could taste the rotting vegetation in the back of my throat. I used all my other senses: hearing as usual, touch as I felt my way along a handrail before, inexplicably, it disappeared and I lurched forward off balance, smell as I absorbed the odour of the stagnant ditches, but probably not really taste.

We returned to the resort cashless, and I needed a pint to test the old taste-buds. Had one delivered to my sunbed and who should appear out of nowhere but Aussie Chris. “I thought you didn’t drink until five?”

The words of the great Alan Jackson came to mind. “Well. It’s five o’clock somewhere. Cheers.”

We started drinking far too early on Christmas Day. After breakfast and the obligatory video calls back to the children and grandchildren in East Anglia, I might even have spoken to my brother and sister as well, we again stationed ourselves on OUR loungers. Towels weren’t necessary this time to reserve our spots. We nattered well into the afternoon with all sorts of people from all walks of life.

We, on reflection, probably didn’t natter for long enough and, before long, we were sat at the bar drinking with our new found friends. They had a deadly game they liked to play at the bar. You could spin a pointer and, if it pointed to the same colour tile, you had placed your drink on, along the bar you won a free one. I think we were all winning too many times. As the saying goes, though, “Free alcohol” are two of the most welcome words in the English language whereas you muddle them up, “Alcohol free,” and they become two of the most shocking!

We remembered we needed to have another go at getting cash. Neither of us fancied another hazardous journey to look for the nearest ATM, which we never found the day before, but, fortunately, Scots Brian saved our bacon by going to his room and bringing back the requisite amount, hundreds of Malaysian Ringgits. Don’t believe what people tell you. I can vouch that the Scots are extremely generous. He did take our passports as security and said he would have to hold one of us hostage until he had been paid back in full. Fair deal! Of course, that didn’t actually happen, before hordes of English raid over the border for revenge.

Christmas dinner was included within our package price. We had wondered what sort of shape it might take but, we all agreed, we dined with Linda and Brian, it was a truly first class meal. A great time was had by all along with a little too much wine and beer. Never mind, it’s Christmas and we’re on holiday.