YONDERINGS
A few Yonderings from Nick and a trip he undertook back in 2018
It’s always great to have a common interest with someone close to you like your Dad.
In my case it’s classic cars in general and Land Rovers more specifically.
He currently runs a 1951 Series 1 and I have a 1966 Series 2a.
I recently had the pleasure of crossing Northern Spain from Bilbao to Barcelona with my father and six other hardy souls who thought it would be a great idea to drive 65 to 70-year-old Land Rovers at no more than 45mph over the course of three days from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean coast. The Land Rover community is a pleasantly close-knit bunch with clubs all over the world catering for all models and interests and this group more than proved that point.
With the excuse of Land Rover’s 70th year anniversary to celebrate, we were retracing the steps of Tim Dines’ Land Rover no.3, also present, which was originally on show at the World Trade Fair in Barcelona in 1948.
What is it about shared experiences that brings out the best in people? A common goal where the ‘how’ is just as important as attaining that goal. The experience, the camaraderie, overcoming setbacks; as you can probably imagine not all the Land Rover’s wanted to play ball all the time!
Then there was the chance for the UK contingent to meet the Catalans along with their Series 1’s. It really was quite a collection on display.
I’ve been living in Barcelona for 27 years now and with my father in the UK I don’t get to see him as much as I would like. Road trips are a great way of cramming in some quality time although as anyone who has ever been in an old Land Rover will know, conversation is limited to shouting as road noise makes talking quite challenging….
My interest in Land Rovers goes back to when I was 17 learning to drive and my first car was, yes, you’ve guessed, a Land Rover. It sticks with you and the interest grows, especially when you have friends and family who feel the same.
There are differences of opinion of course, Dad is all for the ‘showroom as they left the factory’ look whereas I prefer the worn-in patina ‘wear your battle scars with pride’ look. We agree to differ, which is not a bad lesson I suppose.
I’m already looking forward to the next Land Rover adventure, whenever that might be!
It’s always great to have a common interest with someone close to you like your Dad.
In my case it’s classic cars in general and Land Rovers more specifically.
He currently runs a 1951 Series 1 and I have a 1966 Series 2a.
I recently had the pleasure of crossing Northern Spain from Bilbao to Barcelona with my father and six other hardy souls who thought it would be a great idea to drive 65 to 70-year-old Land Rovers at no more than 45mph over the course of three days from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean coast. The Land Rover community is a pleasantly close-knit bunch with clubs all over the world catering for all models and interests and this group more than proved that point.
With the excuse of Land Rover’s 70th year anniversary to celebrate, we were retracing the steps of Tim Dines’ Land Rover no.3, also present, which was originally on show at the World Trade Fair in Barcelona in 1948.
What is it about shared experiences that brings out the best in people? A common goal where the ‘how’ is just as important as attaining that goal. The experience, the camaraderie, overcoming setbacks; as you can probably imagine not all the Land Rover’s wanted to play ball all the time!
Then there was the chance for the UK contingent to meet the Catalans along with their Series 1’s. It really was quite a collection on display.
I’ve been living in Barcelona for 27 years now and with my father in the UK I don’t get to see him as much as I would like. Road trips are a great way of cramming in some quality time although as anyone who has ever been in an old Land Rover will know, conversation is limited to shouting as road noise makes talking quite challenging….
My interest in Land Rovers goes back to when I was 17 learning to drive and my first car was, yes, you’ve guessed, a Land Rover. It sticks with you and the interest grows, especially when you have friends and family who feel the same.
There are differences of opinion of course, Dad is all for the ‘showroom as they left the factory’ look whereas I prefer the worn-in patina ‘wear your battle scars with pride’ look. We agree to differ, which is not a bad lesson I suppose.
I’m already looking forward to the next Land Rover adventure, whenever that might be!
Smells
The smell of new leather. New books. New candles. New kit. So exciting. So tempting. But it soon fades.
The smell of barbecues and fires? That lingers in your nostrils and on your clothes for days. But in the memory banks? Infinitely. I only have to smell a certain smoke and I’m transported back to Nepal, India or Africa. It’s like time travel. It is also undeniable. It requires no effort. It is one of life’s pieces of magic. For which there is no explanation I wish to know about. It just is. I won’t Google it because then the magic might fade. Sometimes facts get in the way of reality. Somethings just are. Let them be.
Like chocolate.
Plastic
800,000 tonnes of plastic is going into our oceans every year. Give or take the odd tonne.
This seems like a bad idea really.
I’ve been thinking about some of the reasons why. Bear with me.
Fish and chips - always better without added plastic. Salt and vinegar is better.
I like to swim and occasionally surf.
Sea creatures already live there. If I went round to my neighbours house and started putting plastic through their letter box I think they would be justifiably annoyed. So I think if Great White sharks or Orcas could get out of the water we would stop this practice pretty quickly.
Remote communities who produce zero plastic rely on fishing on a small scale for survival.
Sunets by the sea always look better when it is not floating with endless tonnes of rubbish in it. It ruins the shot.
This is not an exhaustive list of course. Perhaps you have some reasons of your own ? Please share…..
Wild…..always
Trains
The Lunatic Express they called it. East Africas long iron snake. The waiters offered drinks on silver trays. You could wash your socks in the sink. The curious wildlife sauntered past the windows. The sounds and smells drifted in. It rattled and creaked. Wallowing. Mesmeric. Soporific. Sometimes it would stop for no apparent reason. It was not convenient. It was sometimes dangerous. It was time stretched and malleable. Like an accordion. Breathing music. Life. Delight.
It’s gone now.
Replaced by convenience.
Efficient. Quick.
Soulless?
I can still hear it breathing.
Inconvenience
I love the word inconvenience. It tells me that it might be difficult. It tells me that I might have to try a different idea; a different thought or way. It tells me that others will avoid it. It throws down a challenge to me. Offers me an opportunity to grow. To re-wire. To adapt. Evolve. It says I can’t be lazy. I can’t have it easy. It won’t be quick. But it whispers of interests and thoughts and depths. It says I might fail. Fall. It might offer boredom. A hole for me to fill. On my own. Without any help. It might laugh at me. Others might too. I might laugh at myself. I might cry in frustration. Feel like giving up. Turn to face the convenient way. But I won’t step that way.
It’s dull. Trodden. Easy. Boring.
It’s not Wild.
Yonder is.
Here is to inconvenience.