Olga and I went for a walk this afternoon to Brigham and back. It is probably the furthest I have walked since I was in hospital. It was also very nearly our last walk, ever. As we approached the T junction with the A66 we had to jump for our lives as a white van turning in to the lane almost ran on to the verge due to the driver steering with his left hand and talking into a mobile phone with the other. It was a near miss and we were both quite shaken.
Olga had a bit of a job persuading me to go for this walk because I couldn't be bothered. To be honest I've been a bit depressed the last few days. I think the main reason is the lack of improvement in the state of my head. I've described it before as feeling a bit dizzy, like I've had too much to drink. But it's a bit stranger than that. Everything seems a bit fuzzy and unreal, like I'm viewing the world through a glass window. I'm not as conscious of this feeling of unreality if I sit at home and read or listen to music or watch TV or just doze, so that's what I'm inclined to do.
The choices of where to walk starting from here are a bit limited. I'm getting fed up with walking round the block. It's so frustrating not having a car because there are so many places to go and things we could do if we could just drive a few miles before setting off. If we have to run the gauntlet of drunk drivers using mobile phones for daring to venture along some of the country lanes on foot then perhaps staying at home is the best idea after all.