en-es  REFLECTIONS V
Reflexiones
Una nota biográfica sobre el valor de la vida.
por Kim.
Parte V. En la mañana, nos dirigimos hacia York por carreteras secundarias, pasando a través pueblos pintorescos y aldeas y un paisaje tan verde que las palabras me desafían. Habíamos decidido viajar de esta manera por el resto de nuestro tiempo en las Islas Britanicas, manteniéndonos muy lejos de las carreteras principales. LLegamos a York dominada por enormes paredes de piedras que prácticamente rodeaban la ciudad. Primero, encontramos que el Museo del Ferrocarril Nacional estaba situado en York entonces entramos para investigarlo. Me gustan realmente las locomotoras de vapor y había tantas diferentes incluso la 'Mallard'' que, al momento de escribir, tenía el récord mundial de velocidad ,126mph alcanzado en 1938, y creo que no ha cambiado.
Saliendo del museo, vimos que era posible subir y caminar por las murallas por bastante distancia. De vuelta en tierra firma, deambulamos por la ciudad y encontramos la tumba del salteador de caminos John Palmer,más conocido por su alias Dick Turpin. También exploramos la magnífica catedral de York Minster, la iglesia gótica más grande de Inglaterra: ¡llevó 250 años construirla!
En el camino de regreso al automóvil nos encontramos con algunas ruinas romanas más, se estaban volviendo bastante comunes y corrientes. Saliendo de York, nos dirigimos hacia North York Moors. Esa noche aparcamos en una granja que también funcionaba como un campamento justo a las afueras de la ciudad de Helmsley. Aprovechamos la oportunidad de tomar una ducha muy necesaria. ¡Sabes que es muy necesaria cuando la persona ofendida por tu olor eres tú misma! Esa noche nos quedamos dormidos con el sonido del balar de las ovejas .
La mañana siguiente el viento había aflojado un poco comparado con los dos días anteriores. Metimos el equipaje en el coche y fuimos a Helmsley a visitar la panadería. Estas visitas habían pasado a ser muy habituales durante nuestros viajes. Creo que era el clima de Inglaterra, tan triste con constantes lloviznas que todo el tiempo teníamos hambre ....¡y queríamos ir al baño!
Antes de salir de Helmsley, aún vimos las ruinas de otro antiguo castillo - ¡este lugar está repleto de ellos! Fuimos a la ciudad de Thirsk donde visitamos una lavandería para lavar nuestra ropa. También compramos cosas de comer y llenamos el depósito de gasolina. Encontramos una tienda que vendía un libro de senderismo en los North Yorks Moors que compramos junto con un mapa de Ordinance, por si acaso.
A la mañana siguiente, salimos para una caminata de 6 millas, llamada la Ruta del Paraíso, en la mitad oeste de los North York Moors. Íbamos siguiendo el libro de senderismo, pero las direcciones eran un poco dudosas, así que decidimos seguir el mapa en lo posible.
Bueno, quien quiera que diera a esta ruta el título de "Paraíso" merecía que lo mataran. Nosotros habíamos comprado todo nuestro equipo meses antes de partir para el Reino Unido. Yo iba caminando al trabajo todos los días con mis botas de montaña, unos 11 km, para "hacerme a ellas". Lo hice diariamente durante un mes aproximadamente sin que se me formara ni una sola ampolla. Genial, pensé, estoy lista. Bueno, después de 2 millas de "Paradise" comenzaron a dolerme los pies. La idea de caminar 2 millas de vuelta ya era bastante mala, así que, al decidir no continuar, le dije "adios, diviértete" a Steve, dí media vuelta y huí al coche donde rápidamente me saqué las botas y liberé mis pobres pies.
Cuando Steve regresó al coche alrededor de la 1:30 pm, se puso lírico sobre el esplendor de la vista desde Boltby Moor, bla, bla, bla, salimos hacia el este a través de los páramos hasta Chop Gate. Aquí nos encontramos con un comité de bienvenida compuesto por un viejo granjero de Yorkshire. Me había vendado las heridas de los pies y estábamos a punto de emprender otra caminata de 10 millas, pero nuestro nuevo amigo no paraba de hablar. Esto contrastaba completamente con la señora del pub en el que nos habíamos detenido brevemente para tomar una cerveza. Todo su vocabulario consistía en "sí" y "no" mezclados con risitas. Esta zona del país está llena de personajes.
Nos pusimos en marcha para nuestra caminata sin saber lo que nos esperaba ya que a mí todavía me dolían los pies y Steve tenía una ampolla muy fea en su talón derecho. Pero mereció la pena. Las vistas de páramos cubiertos de nieve eran realmente espléndidas, incluso con los dolores. Probablemente alcanzamos el punto más alto de los Moors cuando ascendimos al Cringle Moor que tiene una altura de 1427 metros. Como caminar montaña arriba era forzar mi tobillo contra la parte de atrás de la bota, decidí cambiar la presión caminando hacia atrás, para diversión de Steve. Estoy contenta de que mi fuerte dolor lo divirtiese.
Después de perder la dirección del camino ( o, simplemente, perdiéndonos), mientras caía la noche, eran las 8:45 cuando volvimos al coche. Hambrientos y doloridos, habíamos caminado una distancia impresionante. Con todo, Steve caminó 30 kilómetros y yo 22 kilómetros. Decidimos que el día siguiente sería un día de descanso.

FIN DE LA V PARTE
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REFLECTIONS.
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A memoir on the value of life.
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by Kim.
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Departing York, we headed for the North York Moors.
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We took the chance of having a much-needed shower.
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You know it is much needed when the person offended by your odour is yourself!
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That night we fell asleep to the sound of bleating sheep.
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The next morning the wind had calmed somewhat compared to the previous couple of days.
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We packed the car up and drove into Helmsley to visit the bakery.
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These visits had become very commonplace during our travels.
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We drove into the town of Thirsk where we visited a laundromat to wash our clothes.
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We also bought some groceries and filled the car with petrol.
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Now, whoever gave this hike the title “Paradise” should be shot.
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We purchased all our gear months before we departed for the UK.
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I did that daily for about a month without forming a single blister.
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Great, I thought, I’m ready.
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Well, after about 2 miles of “Paradise” my feet began to become very sore.
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Here we were met by a welcoming committee consisting of one old Yorkshire farmer.
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This area of the country is full of characters.
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But it was worth it.
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The views of snow-capped moors were utterly magnificent, even through the pain.
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I’m glad my agony amused him.
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Hungry and sore we had walked an astonishing distance.
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All-in-all, Steve walked 30 kilometres and I walked 22 kilometres.
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We decided that next day would be a rest day.
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END PART V
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REFLECTIONS.
A memoir on the value of life.
by Kim.
Part V.

In the morning we headed toward York via secondary roads, passing through picturesque villages and hamlets and a countryside so green that words defy me. We have decided to travel this way for the rest of our time in the British Isles, staying well away from the main roads. We reached York which was dominated by huge stone walls that virtually encircled the city. First, we found the National Railway Museum was located in York so popped in to check it out. I absolutely love steam locomotives and they housed so many different ones including the “Mallard” which, at the time of writing, held the world record speed of 126 mph reached in 1938 and, to my knowledge, still does.
Exiting the museum, we found that we were able to climb and walk along the walls for quite some distance. Back on solid ground we wandered about the city and found the grave of highwayman John Palmer, better known by his alias Dick Turpin. We also explored the magnificent York Minster cathedral, the largest Gothic church in England – it took 250 years to build!
On the way back to the car we came across some more Rome ruins – they were becoming rather run-of the-mill. Departing York, we headed for the North York Moors. That night we parked on a farm that also operated as a campground just outside the town of Helmsley. We took the chance of having a much-needed shower. You know it is much needed when the person offended by your odour is yourself! That night we fell asleep to the sound of bleating sheep.
The next morning the wind had calmed somewhat compared to the previous couple of days. We packed the car up and drove into Helmsley to visit the bakery. These visits had become very commonplace during our travels. I think it was the weather in England, so bleak with a constant drizzle that we found we were constantly hungry … and wanting to go to the toilet!
Before departing Helmsley, we saw the ruins of yet another old castle – the place is littered with them! We drove into the town of Thirsk where we visited a laundromat to wash our clothes. We also bought some groceries and filled the car with petrol. We located a shop that sold a book of walks in the North York Moors which we purchased along with an Ordinance map, just in case.
The next morning, we set off on a 6-mile hike called the Paradise Route on the western half of the North York Moors. We were following the book of walks, but the directions were a bit dubious, so we decided to follow the map as far as possible.
Now, whoever gave this hike the title “Paradise” should be shot. We purchased all our gear months before we departed for the UK. I took to “breaking in” my hiking boots by walking to work in them every day – some 11 kilometres. I did that daily for about a month without forming a single blister. Great, I thought, I’m ready. Well, after about 2 miles of “Paradise” my feet began to become very sore. The idea of walking that 2 miles back was bad enough so, deciding not to continue, I said “adios, have fun” to Steve, turned tail and fled back to the car where I swiftly removed the boots and freed my poor feet.
When Steve returned to the car at about 1:30pm waxing lyrical about the splendor of the view from Boltby Moor, blah, blah, blah, we set off further east through the moors to Chop Gate. Here we were met by a welcoming committee consisting of one old Yorkshire farmer. I had dressed the wounds on my feet and we were about to set off on another 10-mile hike, but our new friend would not stop talking. This was in stark contrast to the lady at the pub we had stopped at briefly for a beer. Her vocabulary consisted entirely of “yes” and “no” intermingled with giggles. This area of the country is full of characters.
We set off on our hike not knowing what to expect as my feet were still sore and Steve had a nasty blister on his right heel. But it was worth it. The views of snow-capped moors were utterly magnificent, even through the pain. We reached probably the highest point in the Moors when we ascended Cringle Moor which had an altitude of 1427 metres. As walking uphill was forcing my heel against the back of my boot, I decided to reverse the pressure by walking up backwards, much to Steve’s entertainment. I’m glad my agony amused him.
After losing the direction of the route (or, simply put, getting lost) as darkness fell, it was 8:45pm by the time we returned to the car. Hungry and sore we had walked an astonishing distance. All-in-all, Steve walked 30 kilometres and I walked 22 kilometres. We decided that next day would be a rest day.

END PART V