My elevator speech: from the margins to the mainstream

Goole to Castleford (17.5m)
Start bright and early with pub in full swing at 6am ( had it closed?) with punters arriving for breakfast and ordering pints ( they didn’t get them). Goole even sadder in the cold drizzle of the morning but there really is only one train today to get me over the river and it leaves at 7.06!.
Soon landscape is pure East Anglia, huge sugar beet plantings, irrigation, sheep and country houses. But what’s this? A power station (Drax) smoking ( vaping?) into a clear blue sky. Those towers are enormous gosh they are huge; then there’s another (Eggborough), then another (Ferry Bridge) and yea another! The horizon muddled with their strutting pylons and steam; so much energy in so little space strung along the wiggling and writhing River Aire. So different from yesterday.
My selfie breaks, my boots split ( send for more), the footpath has been trashed; where are those endorphins?
Castleford at last, the birthplace of a hero , Henry Moore; but where is it? Here’s someone to ask who I recognise “I think I know you” I offer, “I’m Yvette”….ah yes the local MP on walkabout. ” I hope used to work for you,” I burble “I’m on my way from Hu……” she cuts me off as I struggle to extract my visiting card from my pocket, “Sorry it’s my daughter, must go….”; ah the elevator speech, what happened?
Arrive at my daughter’s house in Leeds. Very comfortable, especially with the addition of a few cans of Brew Dog and a new selfie stick to fathom.
Medical Report: normal for Norfolk really. No blisters but feet ache from a lot of road pounding. Will be straying into Lancashire tomorrow so will change the boxers in deference.

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