Another night, another hostel bed. The advantage of staying in certain remote hostels at this time of year is that you often get a whole dorm room to yourself, as I did at the friendly Mankinholes hostel last night. On the flip-side, the YHA's policy of letting people hire out whole hostels for functions means that many places simply can't be booked by individuals even if there are spare beds. This policy has angered many people, and has caused us a lot of problems in terms of booking places to stay on this journey - the concept of idly travelling through the country looking for somewhere to spend the night is simply not feasible any more; everything must be booked far in advance. One website attempting to alert people to this and to cater for individual travellers is worth checking out: UK Trail.
Before leaving Todmorden this morning we managed to get an interview with Nick from Incredible Edible, who told us about the community food growing projects in this interesting little town. The rhubarb is starting to make an appearance but apparently it's proven too popular with the locals - it's disappearing as fast as it's growing.
Despite my previous intention of avoiding the Pennines, we made our way from Todmorden to Bradford along the margin of the hills, and the pain in my knees was nearly worth it for the breathtaking urban panoramas laid bare at my feet.
Along the road I developed a theory about daffodils, which is that the way flowers are arranged is - to some extent - a deeper reflection of local political and social views, In the cities, for example, daffodils planted in council flower beds are separated strictly into colour and varietal groupings; it's probably someone's job to pick out the bulbs that dare to stray outside their designated territories. Here in Bradford, where the few daffodils are carefully allotted their special places, there is clear racial tension. People have ridiculously racist conversations out in public, while fish 'n' chip shops feel the need to clarify their ethnicity by stating that they're 'English' and flying ragged St George's.
By contrast, the willingness to mix up varieties and species of plants, and to accept the wilder, more random nature of nature in my experience reflect a general broadmindedness and sense of tolerance.
This crossed my mind again as we met the marvellous Marcela, a public artist who has recently embraced a more natural aesthetic. We spoke about how the spring has influenced her work, and in turn she left me with a reinvigorated passion for the whole concept of Chasing Spring, and some new ideas about where it could go.
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