The area of London in which we lived was very conducive to walking. It was laid out in a grid pattern, with a mom and pop store on nearly every corner, a playground every few blocks, and if you headed north along Ridout and crossed over the Thames, you could be downtown in 20 minutes. Sure it got hellishly hot and humid in the summer, but the streets were lined with massive trees which provided a glorious shady canopy, so that you felt as though you were in a hospitable jungle lined with pretty brick houses with large and welcoming front porches.
And then we moved here.
The trees are regular size, but the leaves are much smaller. And while this particular neighbourhood is old enough that it is not plagued with those nasty front garages which bump out from the house and take up most of the streetscape, it's a very different universe from the genteel neighbourhoods of southwestern Ontario.
As you know, there are no straight lines here in the suburbs. This place is a maze of crescents and cul de sacs, a rabbit warren of closes and meandering ways. Which is fine if you are just wandering, but which drives you mad if you are actually trying to go somewhere.
Lately though, I have been attempting to walk a lot more around here, in this place where you can walk forever without getting anywhere. Part of this is an attempt to cut down on vehicular use, part of it is a need to get out of the basement and away from the elliptical, which I think is starting to give me chronic hip pain.
Today I walked to the vet and back, fetching some more palatable kibbles for the increasingly finicky resident house cat. On the way there, I took the (relative) shortcut past the rich people's houses where I witnessed many a million dollar renovation underway. On the way back, I walked the ridge of Fish Creek Park, where I met with joggers and dog walkers, and watched the mountains encroaching from the west.
My feet may be a little sore, but my hip sure feels a lot better, being away from that elliptical bitch slave-master. So I have now rescued the OFKAR's abandoned Walkman out of the junk drawer and am charging it up for some future walks. I think with music, walking around this circular neighbourhood will become something I can embrace.
As long as I don't end up developing an iBoner for personal listening devices.