We live in a wonderful country peopled by many kind and fascinating souls. Just saying. It’s not said often enough. Over the past month, I’ve been all over the place making films for the BBC’s Countryfile programme. I’ve travelled by train and motorbike, marvelling every mile at the changing landscape. The train to Penzance, a long haul wherever you start from, was further delayed, but I cared not a jot with my nose pressed to the window all the way. When I finally arrived, I went to check something at the ticket office. “Alright Ade,” said the lady, in the strongest Black Country accent. I asked her what had brought her there. “I came here 20 years ago and I loved it, so I stayed,” she said.
At times, with war raging despicably elsewhere, and the cost of living crisis biting, the places I’ve been to have felt quite indecently tranquil. Floating but barely moving in a coracle on the River Teifi in Pembrokeshire, time and space lost all meaning for too short a while.
OK, the weather’s not been completely wonderful, but what of it? This week we filmed atop the Isle of Man’s second highest hill, from where the view is wonderful if you’re not enveloped in thick mist. I saw nothing but the camera crew, and I could barely see them if I strayed more than a few strides away. This mist, I learned, was the work of the Isle of Man’s kind of founding deity, Manannán. They call it his cloak, which he throws over the island to shroud the people, protecting them from their enemies. But I came in peace! No worries though, even sea gods make mistakes.
Whatever the weather, I love this time of year. Spring has not quite shown itself in the trees; only the daffodils seem to have got the memo that it’s time to shine. Everything is full of promise. Bring it on.
• Adrian Chiles is a broadcaster, writer and Guardian columnist
