This trip of contrasts continues in the English countryside, less than two weeks since I was trekking high in the Himalayas.
I'm sitting in sun bathed courtyard of a 1789 cottage in the pretty village of Steyning, in West Sussex, south of London. After a cold, wet week in the British capital, it is so good to see the spring sun. Today, I made the most of it, heading off on a three hour hike along the South Downs Way to Chanctonbury ring, a 2000-year-old hill fort.
When the weather is good, there is, in my humble opinion, little to compare with the English countryside, a mix of kempt and unkempt fields, muddy footpaths tracking this way and that, and herds of well-fed cows, in a variety of colours, liberally sprinkled across the deep green landscape.
Up on the South Downs this morning, huge crops of lustrous yellow rape flowers stretched across the slopes and the views over southern England grew ever more expansive as we crested the gentle hills above Steyning. Passing dog walkers, hikers and mountain biker were all full of the joys of spring, happily offering directions or a hearty "good morning".
After a few days staying in London, the contrasts in this country couldn't be sharper. Britain's largest city was barely crawling along, sirens blaring every five minutes, another rail strike - a continuation of industrial action that also affected my visit, with my daughters, in September 2023 - was causing chaos, and the mood seemed down and defeated.
It was no surprise then that the ruling Conservative Party, which has now been in power for 14 years, got hammered in last week's English local council elections, losing no less than 474 councillors and control of ten councils - leaving them in charge of only six - across the whole country. They also suffered an ignominious parliamentary by-election defeat, in Blackpool South, to Labour, with a swing of over 25 per cent.
For most people in this country, the general election, projected for July this year, cannot come soon enough. Yet, seeing the extent of the problems facing England, it seems like a poisoned chalice for the next government to inherit, and not something that can be much addressed in one (maximum) five year term.
While there is a real sense of economic struggle evident in London, it is still an exciting city, with innovation and culture at its heart. I was able to dip into that when I went to see an excellent play called Red Pitch. Set within the confines of a small football field, at the heart of a London housing estate, it follows three young black boys, with aspirations of playing the game professionally, as they meet to hone their skills.
It is a subtly complex, award-winning play, by Tyrell Williams, which beautifully captures the strutting uncertainty of teenage boys, with the titular "Red Pitch" a place to vent frustrations and test their friendships, in the shadow of aggressive redevelopment. The characters are strongly drawn and all three actors are outstanding, and the production's life-affirming themes of brotherhood and community drew a standing ovation, when I saw it.
Much less positive, although also football related, I went to watch my beloved Manchester United (in the return fixture of the one I wrote about last September) play Crystal Palace at Selhurst Park, in South London. I sat with my cousin Patrick and his son Charles, who are both Crystal Palace season ticket holders, and with United ravaged by injuries and those that did play barely turning up, saw United lose 4-0, in pouring rain. It was the worst single performance I have seen in 5 decades of supporting the team. Having secured a ticket for the FA Cup final, when Untied take on the all conquering Manchester City, I'm hoping for a miracle that day (Editor's note: this was written before the match).
That dreadful night already seems like a distant memory as I settle into this historic cottage in Steyning, another lovely house swap found via homeexchange.com. The village is full of half-timbered houses, some with their roofs bent from the burden of age, tea shops, country pubs and little alleyways called names like Dog, or Mouse, Lane.
Villagers here could not be more friendly and as I say, above, the South Downs in the sunshine is hard to beat, so it is good to see this more bucolic side of England before I head to Bilbao and the Spanish Basque Country.
