Roads to Joy

I’m not a great fan of surprises. I feel confused by them, not sure how to react. But when I’m somehow complicit in the surprise, the dénouement can bring great joy. So it was yesterday.

We thought we’d see what all the work has been about, down at the Ken Bridge, where we’d seen diggers and earth movers rumbling about, as we passed on our way to the weekly shop in Castle Douglas. So we decided to park in the little space beside the bridge, and explore. To our surprise, a broad path, along which two can amble comfortably, opened up to us. We’ve walked on top of the dyke wall here several times, but the new byway also emerges, we found, at the top of the village of New Galloway.

The surprise is that a lovely footpath has been created which can bring walkers along the pavement out of the village to the new path and on down to Ken Water. We hoped, as we traversed it, that some of this path will be navigable by our dear friend whose ambulatory capacity is quite compromised these days.

Back to the little car, we smiled together as we returned home. I decided to attend to some writing exercises, but my phone bleeped a WhatsApp message at me. Our son in Edinburgh had seen a new MarketPlace listing for a free kayak with paddle, buoyancy aid, and splash deck, to anyone who might be able to pick the gear up in New Galloway. These ads are always taken up, in my experience, before we can get a look in.

But we persevered, and through our friendly contacts we discovered the story behind the ad, and I was able to twirl around immediately to squish the long boat into the little Panda. That was the second surprise of the day, that, just acquiring the thing.

The third surprise, however, is the most exciting for me, as it develops with the anticipation. Although I have never, in my life, sat down in a kayak, let alone paddle one on the high seas, it seems that my new task, assigned by our credulous family, is to test the craft out on Ken Water. Will it leak? Or will Grandpa flounder out into the drink as it flips away from me?

There’s really only one way to find out, and I shall aim to try to jump in with the buoyancy jacket, and a firm grip on the paddle, the handle of the kayak tied to my belt in case I should fall in to the water. If I can manage to manoeuvre the thing, perhaps half as well as I can manage a canoe, I shall be laughing along the river.

And that experience, I guess, really would be quite the surprise.