Walking and Canoodling Couples

 

Mum used to walk for miles. I’m told that Alzheimer’s patients love walking which is part of the problem as they will head off knowing where they are going, forget on route and get lost.  Even before she got Alzheimer’s though mum loved walking. One of her favourite walks was round Strathclyde Park, a manmade lake and park just outside of our village – a good 90 minute walk.  She would try and get other people to go with her but if they wouldn’t she would just head off on her own. I would often worry about her especially as she got older as some of the paths could be very secluded and I could just see her getting attacked. However she was always fine.  Strathclyde Park was (and still is presumably) a haven for all sorts: there were the campers cycling or walking round the park; there were the sailing enthusiasts on their boats on the lake; there were the rowers, practicing on the water; there were the dog walkers, striding along with dogs everywhere; there were the families having picnics; there were the people feeding the birds usually surrounded by huge menacing looking swans. And there was a lot to look at:-  funfair with roller coaster and big wheel; waterskiers, rowing boats, sailing dinghies; swans, cygnets and ducks; football games at one side, a small beach in the middle, and the Water Sports Centre which boasted a rather good cafe overlooking the lake at the other side.

When she was sectioned in hospital I used to take her there just to get her out in the fresh air. Then she had been in hospital for a while without any exercise and really could not walk very far. That was the first indication that physically she was deteriorating. She would ask to sit down on one of the many seats, then resume the walk but we never made it the full way round. Suited me, because after having broken my leg and ankle not that long before, I wasn’t so much up to it either.  So we escaped to the cafe as often as not both for something to do and to escape the cold . And we would partake of the very typically Scottish fare: Tunnocks snowballs; plates of chips with lashings of salt vinegar and brown sauce, bridies and pies, bags of crisps, toasted sandwiches, steaming hot broth of one kind or another and endless cups of tea.

When she arrived in Sri Lanka, it was quickly obvious that I needed to get her out and about walking as she was slowing down and was incredibly wobbly – probably both as a result of 5 months in hospital with no exercise and also from generally getting older. Not the easiest of things to find in Sri Lanka – a place where you can safely and comfortably walk.  I thought it would be easy – lovely weather; long stretches of beach – what could possibly be difficult about it? However it was. Beach walks were attempted and quickly discarded. Sinking into the sand made her even wobblier. My ankle is also not that great on anything graded. Steps are fine. Slopes are not. So beach walks we don’t do.  

Galle, post tsunami, now has a long ‘promenade’ running along the sea front.  Ideal I thought. However with no shade, traffic belching smoke, menacing dogs and passed out people often strewn around to be walked over, not really. We did stick to it for a while in the early evening when it was cooler. Galle Fort you would think would be good. Again, tried it for a while. The walls make the roads cooler ; but there isn’t a view and the roads are cobbled. If you do manage to get mum onto the ramparts, a feat in itself, you quickly get sunstroke. Even with a huge umbrella, you sit looking out to sea wondering if it was all worth it. Another deterrent in Galle Fort are the rather large ladies who block your path insisting on trying to sell you lace tablecloths when they can clearly see that mum is about to fall over (if she stands for more than 10 seconds she keels over – not connected to Alzheimer’s; she has had this balance problem for a while.) Lace tablecloths I have never had any need for; and my mother certainly doesn’t need one now.   

So where is good? Here's the criteria:-

•  a flat walking surface that you can’t trip over
• some shade or times of the day that are cooler
• a view
• somewhere to sit quickly if need be - does not need to be an actual seat
• easy to drive to and easy to park at (ie no parallel parking)
• no people hassling you to buy things, visit temples, go on river cruises, visit craft shops, buy gems, and pledge money to various dubious charities (or any of the other million and one things that could potentially be on offer).

There are a few.  Down south there is a very picturesque and shaded walk just past the Fortress next to a children’s play park. It skirts the coast and there are stilt fishermen and regular fishermen with their boats. It’s also the place for the canoodling couples under their umbrellas.  Lots of motorbikes give them away. Nobody in sight until you see the umbrellas further in. Any time we turn up they have beaten us to it.  Luckily there are a lot of seats; they are stone and hot but we (like the couples) can live with that. The Fortress also has lovely grounds for walking and the staff greet us cheerfully as we do the rounds of the lawns and the corridors.

 In Colombo we also join the canoodling couples. Galle Face Green is the ideal place for walking. At one end is the Galle Face Hotel, colonial grandeur at its best; at the other is the Fort, the commercial centre of Sri Lanka. The Green has now been returfed, boasts lots of little stalls along the front, and looks out onto the Indian Ocean before it becomes the harbour. We go after I finish work when it’s cooler. A breeze invariably comes of the sea. Parking is easy though these days you have to pay for it. You can walk for as long as you want. And we don’t get hassled. Maybe the touts in Colombo can see how wobbly mum is. There are plenty of seats of different kinds. The seats that the couples prefer are tucked into the wall. The seats comprising a brick wall round the trees are road height. And there is always something happening there. Around 5pm groups of about 40 or so of the army or police doing their exercises on the green; they walk and run endlessly in circles; they do press ups and leg exercises.  Never very politically correct, “Those black men are at it again,” mum’ll say (to give her her due though they are all dressed identically in dark navy tracksuits).  We can watch the schoolkids running around; the kites flying high; the joggers belting along; the more sedate exercisers working out on the grass. Out to sea mum can count the number of her favourite tankers waiting to go into port.  It really is ideal. No lace tablecloths in sight! It’s a hive of activity but never so crowded that you don’t feel you have your own space.  So if you ever want to find me and mum on a late cool afternoon, look for the canoodling couples, and probably we will be somewhere nearby.