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  • Writer's picturematilde tomat

reserv·ātiō /03

Same place, another day.

Soon I'll find the right words, they'll be very simple

[J Kerouac].

I have been thinking about the water of the reservoir as a mirror and of my lonely walk becoming a vehicle for self-reflection. Do I talk to myself? Do I imagine conversations with others? Do I go over and over old conversations? Do I set off with a topic in mind and then off I go on a tangent? Do I daydream about a possible future where everything looks bright and things go the way that I want them to go? I am free to imagine my large house, minimalistic besides the sheer amount of books, a large table with maps, plans and my passport. I can see loads of friends and colleagues around this table, and food, wine, and conversations. Two large sofas and more people and we all there planning our next adventure, exhibitions, travelling, and synchronising our calendars. I am surrounded by possibilities and opportunities. Like nature, here. There is always an empty spot that can be filled by a leaf, a branch, or some more nettle. Still, regardless of all the possibilities and opportunities, I always walk clockwise around the pond, zigzagging in a fake sense of adventure because the zigzagging off-piste always happens in the same places: that stretch to the little bridge, facing west; that other short walkway which obliges me to be very careful walking down in the mud [my little taste of pushing the fear asunder], that other wooden walkway just because I like the noise of my boots on wood, and that short walk to a hidden stony sort-of-bridge. Not much of a risk taker, am I? Always the same route, always in the same way.

I could decide to have my walk anti-clockwise but what kind of a witch would I be? But then, even when at home, I tend to follow the same path, cutting the same corners, placing my feet in the same positions, leaving the car keys in the same bowl, and repeating the same movements as I did for the past 10 years. Maybe this is why I like travelling. Movements change, and repetitiveness is kept to a minimum even though I drive in the same way, I stop for a coffee along the way in the same brand of establishment, and during the day I tend to eat similar things: soups at lunch, and meat in the evening. Still, people and places are different. I am not used to them as to the surroundings around my house, or my street. Time seems to slow down because there are new shops, new houses, new faces, new smells, and new gardens. I know: a rose is a rose everywhere, you could argue. But it isn’t.

And still, this walk around the reservoir feels the same every day.

When I drive here, there is, at times, a Land Rover Defender pickup. I look at that car and I wonder what it would mean, to me, to have something like that. Well, first of all, would I buy something like that? My dream has always been a Toyota 4Runner or a Landcruiser. I always saw myself in one. Dark metallic blue. I could sleep in one of them.

So, what is with this attraction of sleeping out? Sleeping outside, under the stars. I could see myself. Would I do it? Yes. If I had something like that I would be out and about every day, and if not every day, every weekend. Away. So, what is the difference between me being out and about in my little C2 every day?! I think that I feel fragile in this car. Exposed. I am aware of that immense sense of freedom I felt in this car all the times I drove across the Pennines to York, or to Manchester, London, Glastonbury, north and south Wales, or to the Lake District. I do not want a 4x4 to drive to the park or to another reservoir. I want a traveller’s life. I want a schedule in my calendar where it says that I will be in a different place every week. I want a schedule to make me feel comfortable at home... where coming back home is looked for. This is it: I want a schedule where I look forward to coming back home. Because in my life most of the time coming back home was a dread. I felt at home only in a couple of places, or maybe just in one, Coppull. Coppull was nice, small, quiet, tiny, warm, cosy, mine even if rented out.

By the way, an amazing dark blue Land Rover Defender [long-base] just parked next to me. It’s muddy, dirty, with ginormous tyres and God I would live in that thing! Imagine writing in something like that instead of being crammed into this little thing. I would have benches at the back that could turn into a bed, a fold-up table, cushions, my gas canister and stuff to make coffee and soup. Chargers and batteries for the laptop and phone, water tank, walking gear...

Well, I know what I can daydream about now!


onwards + upwards > out + about



Date : 4 OCT 2023

Duration : 01:00:51 - 4.39 km

Steps: 5,779

Location : Turton and Entwistle Reservoir

Weather : covered and windy

T : 15°

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