Open Writing

'What's that you're reading, Paul?' asked Tom, noticing that Paul was even quieter than usual.

'It's the biography of Alfred Wainwright by Hunter Davies. As it was Wainwright who devised the Coast to Coast Walk, I thought I'd learn more about him. We all know that he wrote the guidebooks to the Lake District and that he shunned publicity, but most people don't know much about him at all.'

'I think I have a lot in common with him,' I said.

'What, because you've got two legs and you're a grumpy old bugger, you mean?' Tom suggested, to unnecessary laughter.

'I was thinking more of the fact that we were both natives of Lancashire, except he was born and brought up in Blackburn whereas I come from Southport. And, like me, he had a love of the Lake District and he was six foot tall as well.'

'Now we know where those little scouse scallies sold the height serum they pinched from the nurse at Tom's school. It must have been Southport and Blackburn,' Andy said.

'So, you both love the Lakes and you're six foot tall,' Tom sneered, 'that must be true of about half a million Lancastrians. And don't forget that I'm a Lancastrian and love the Lakes.'

'Yes, but you're only a short arse little bastard,' Andy pointed out, eager to snatch at any opportunity to annoy Tom.

'But I have another thing in common with Wainwright,' Tom responded, resisting the urge to throw an insult back at Andy,'I've written a walking guidebook as well.'

'Oh yes,' I said, grudgingly.

Now sixty-nine, it is nearly fifty years since Tom left his Liverpool home but he still retains that unmistakeable scouse accent. At a little over five foot seven, his lack of inches is more than compensated for by the sort of wit for which Liverpudlians are famous. Being the youngest of eight children, he ¦was once asked why he had only had three children himself and, quick as a flash, he replied: 'I was going to have more until I read that every fourth child born in the world is Chinese.'

'Ah, the old ones are the best, Tom.'

'I most certainly am,' he responded, in all due immodesty.

He makes an excellent leader as he has an enviable knack of being able to judge personalities almost immediately and seems to know instinctively when to use the carrot and when to use the stick. This attribute was going to be put to the test over the next twelve days, leading a group of opinionated old farts across the country.

In addition to his leadership qualities, Tom is also a great organiser and had left little to chance in planning the trip. His original idea was that our overnight accommodation would be in youth hostels, wherever possible, and in Bed and Breakfast establishments otherwise. Those who enjoy hostelling seem to like conditions to be as uncomfortable as possible and hostels certainly try very hard to fulfil their requirements (and they are cheap as well!). However, there were two dissenters. Don had decided that modern hostels are not as disagreeable as they used to be, so he would be camping most nights. On the other hand, I had decided that they cater mainly for inverted snobs and vagrants and would spend at least some of my nights in the relative comfort of B & B's.

Tom had decided that the walk should take twelve days and chose the overnight stops accordingly, then sent each of us a list of the places, in date order, with columns for us to tick showing whether -we wanted to stay in hostels or B&B's (or camp), with asterisks indicating the nights when hostels would not be avail¬able. Very efficient. With the completed forms returned, he booked accommodation for each of us and sent us an itemised invoice for his services. No, he didn't really, although he could have done.

It was not only the accommodation that he organised, but also the equipment, based on his experience from nine previous trips. Each of us received a list of all the equipment and clothes we should take, bearing in mind that we ¦would be away for twelve days but would have to carry everything on our backs. I found the list very helpful and very thoughtful of Tom. Of course, Don would be camping, so had far more to carry. Indeed, it had been quite a struggle for him to lift his pack into the back of the minibus.

'You do realise,' said Paul, looking up from Wainwright's biography, 'that Wainwright always travelled light. Although he spent all his spare time on the fells, he wore ordinary walking shoes and a tweed jacket and he didn't even own any waterproofs. I've just been reading about when he went on a fortnight's hike in 1938, on his own, and he says that his rucksack was virtually empty and that he could have done without it.'

'What, for a fortnight?'

'Yes. It says he couldn't understand how some hikers can enjoy themselves with huge, fifty pound packs on their backs,' he said, glancing over the back seat at Don's enormous pack. 'Apparently, he used to take a light raincoat or a cape, but never a change of clothes.'

'But what if it rained?'

'He said if they got wet, it was unfortunate as walking in wet clothes is unpleasant, but they always dried out afterwards.'

'Yeah, after he'd died of pneumonia as well.'

'On that particular fortnight's walk, he reckoned that his pack weighed less than two pounds.'

'Bloody hell, Tom, you put far too much on that list you sent us,' Andy said, 'we'd have been better asking Wainwright what to bring.'

'Maybe, but he's been dead for more than ten years, so you might have waited a long time for an answer,' Tom replied. 'Anyway, I wouldn't want to be sharing a room with you after twelve days in the same clothes.'

***