Power-walking to little India, and yet more weather blether!

Welcome to this week's update.

Do you remember my bemoaning the fact that Hillary Rodham Clinton's visit to Cambodia didn't get a mention in the British Media? Well get this. I am delighted to report that a later stage of her trip did get into our esteemed press. Indeed. Just days after I posted my blog there was a nice photo of Hillary rubbing noses with a Maori in New Zealand. Glad to see our newspaper editors have got their priorities right.

 If you think that the poor of Cambodia might be slightly more deserving of attention then please sponsor us on our half marathon at www.justgiving.com/simonandcolin2 . Serious bit out of the way - let the blogging commence!

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We have had a request to stop writing about balmy autumn days and romantic canalside walks as it reminds Bridget from Grace House of her pre-Cambodia Days when she and husband Alan owned their own narrow boat. Of course, in Cambodia there are lots of boats, and a good job too, as rather than our civilised temperate climate with its four rather benign seasons, Cambodia has just the two really. Hot and dry or hot and wet. And the wet is seriously wet, hence a nice narrow boat could come in handy.

But I digress. The reason we continue to walk along the canal (sorry Bridget) is because I have a very nice book, an atlas of British Waterways, and one of its irresistible features is that it has mile markers all along the canals, so you know exactly how far you have walked. Which makes it a hell of a lot easier to plot your progress than using a streetmap and a piece of string. Map

geek? Moi?  

A canal, not dissimilar to "the Basingstoke"

Not wishing to harp on too much about the weather, (which obviously means I am going to) I was reminded on Monday morning of just how hideous our little 13.5 mile walk might be. A washout journey to work in the freezing cold took 2 hours instead of the customary 1, and left me convinced that I had lost all my toes in the severest case of rapid-onset frostbite known to man.

Now a five hour walk in those kind of conditions would be a serious challenge, even for hardened survivalists such as we. Sort of Hare Grylls types, if you will.

I am glad to report that Saturday's training session was not dampened by inclement weather. However, it was rather short as we were due to entertain that evening and hadn’t done any shopping. In fact it was a mere sprint of five miles. It took us east from Woking on the Basingstoke canal, a route which is altogether more bucolic than the westbound one through previously mentioned urban wasteland and al fresco drinking dens. Which only serves as a reminder of how broken Britain really can be. Hampshire's gentility was but a distant memory, our friendly greetings met with thinly disguised suspicion rather than an eager and welcoming smile.

I think it could be because Colin was wearing a Nike hoodie. Hug a hoodie? I don’t think so. I mean, would you embrace Colin down the canal?

Snack attack: But would you hug this hoodie?

We stopped again at the half way stage for a sugar fix. Ok, we didn't really need it after just 2.5 miles but those fine little traditions are so hard to shake, like tiffin and dressing for dinner (too much Downton, possibly). A banana and myriad fortune cookies. I'm not saying that we ordered way too much food from the Chinese takeaway the night before, but I can't think why else they would have delivered enough fortune cookies for a family of 6.

Anyway, the words of wisdom were not entirely inspiring. "If God lived on Earth people would smash his windows" was curious enough though. If God lived in Woking there's a strong chance people would smash his windows too, and it would have nothing to do with being God. My second effort was a bit more promising though. "Your first love is still thinking of you". Of course Music was my first love, and it will be my last. Which begs the question: can music actually think?

Onwards we went, dicing with death as we sneaked past a Great White shark. I know, you couldn't make it up.

Great White: The Sheerwater shark

And as we were short of time we had to incorporate a trip to the Indian Supermarkets on Walton Road for some ingredients. Little India might be more apt a name for this exotic area of town, there are so many authentic Indian shops, but we've decided to call it MG Road, as every major Indian town has one. Not "MG"  as in the hairdressers' sports car, but as in Mahatma Gandhi. All that aside, you would be amazed what you find in these shops, and I mean amazed.

Woking's very own MG road harbours all manner of culinary delights

We'd hope not to find one of these floating in that soup 

Five miles completed, and once again no rain. Next week we are in Limerick (now this is starting to sound like Countryfile...), for the 40th birthday of one of the volunteers we met in Cambodia. So, West of Ireland. November. I'd say the chances of a spot of soft weather were pretty good. At least there will be a good pint of Guinness waiting for us at the end. Slainte!

And one more sneaky plug www.justgiving.com/simonandcolin2