We went for a walk to Bluewater Shopping Centre on Sunday, or should I say, a 3 mile hike. According to our recently acquired map, it appeared to be about as far from our place as Dartford Town Centre. Channing and I had already done the walk downtown earlier to use the internet cafe so it wasn’t like either one of us was looking for some extra exercise. However, Rick had been working on lessons plans all morning and I thought it would be good to get him out for a bit.
About half way there, we (more me than them) realized that it probably would have been better to take the bus. The walking route took us along the freeway (thank goodness for pedestrian walk ways) and virtually past the mall and then finally down into the valley where the shopping centre was situation (which interestingly enough was dug out of a massive chalk pit). We tried to entertain ourselves along the way to keep our spirits up and our feet moving. Once Channing discovered that the majority of white rocks scattered along the path were actually chalk, he wrote, “I am Canadian” on the sidewalk. About 10 steps ahead, Rick wrote “Chan is an idiot” and Channing fought back with, “So is Rick”. I had to tell the two of them to knock it off.
Rick picked what he believed to be blackberries and freaked Chan and me (mostly me, really) out by nibbling on it. We joked about dragging him to the hospital (I would get his feet and Chan his top half because Rick is such a lug head) which we passed a mile earlier. And by the way, it wouldn’t be me doing the explaining to the bloody doctor about how my husband died from being an idiot by sticking god knows what kind of berry into his mouth.
I noticed that countless rosehip bushes and batches of holly bordered the sidewalk too. English Ivy formed a blanket at their roots. There was another kind of bush that looked very much like oversized blueberries. Fortunately, Rick and Channing were too busy flipping a heel at each other’s butts and pretending to toss one another onto the road (I know, mature, eh?) to notice the berries. I was still watching for signs of hives, delirium, or fainting from Rick’s earlier stunt.
I thought of Christmas time back home and how we would pay way too much for a sprig of decorative holly, and here we were passing one lovely bush after another. As well, I would have to visit a health food store to buy rosehips and they would be dried. And the English Ivy would come from the Depot in a tiny plastic pot.
Our outing made me think that sometimes the longer and more difficult path is the most rewarding.
