Several decades ago, which sounds like an eon, but isn’t, a playwright named Tennessee. Williams wrote A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE. The main character was a woman named Blanche Dubois, and she was a rather lonely, emotionally destitute woman of a certain age. She had a particular quality of helplessness that wasn’t endearing but more demanding. Her sad eyes and mildly whiny voice was more manipulative than charming. But that is how she got through life, manipulating. Given that, perhaps her famous line, “I have always relied upon the kindness of strangers,” is not the most appropriate here, but I’m going to use it anyway. Because this is what happened to me today.
Earlier in the morning, I had filled up my camelback with 2 1/2 L of water. I figured that would be more than enough to hike 14 miles along the Hadrian’s Wall Path. It wasn’t. The sun came out, the wind died, and the temperature rose. I began to go through the 2 1/2 L of water like my buddy goes through bottles of whiskey.
At the halfway point, 7 miles or so, I had the tube in my mouth and was getting some water when it went dry. I figured I could do the last half without water. I’d come this far and it shouldn’t be a problem. Except that I dehydrate like a raisin in the sun. After that happens, there are bad consequences.
I was approaching the village of Crosby and it seemed to be off a size. I planned to stop in a pub or restaurant and fill up, easy solution. I came into the village, strolled by an elementary school that had just let out for the day, kids in their uniforms running to parents, a lot of smiling faces, but I kept to the back because, at that point, I looked like the wrath of hell. was covered with sticky mud from the knees down, and mud was smeared on my face, had stained my hands, and who knows where else it was on my clothes in little spots, driblets and drops.I wanted to ask one of them about a pub for water when I spotted the Stag Inn up ahead.
The door was locked and the sign said closed. Turned out, it was closed forever, bankrupted by the pandemic. At that moment, a tall young man and an attractive lady walked past me. I didn’t want to be rude but I needed water. I excused myself and asked if there was a public tap near here since the pub was closed.
Both smiled and told me to follow them home, just around a bend. Theirs was a lovely brick place. Elaine, she’d introduced herself and son Tom, helped me take the Camelback out of my Backpack and disappeared into the house. I refused her offer to come in because, as I explained, she’d had to have the house professionally cleaned and deodorized. Her house would have smelled like cow and sheep. You smell like what you’ve been around all day.
She returned with the water and helped me slip it into the pack. The kindness of strangers, I thought, sometimes it’s the best path forward. I took their photo, thanked them and set off for the path.
What struck me then was the common decency of it all, the ease of helping a stranger. They didn’t worry I’d pull out a gun and shoot them and I didn’t worry about them calling the police to report harassment. The mindset is entirely different.
This was an act of trust for all of us, given freely. A simple question, an act of kindness became another confirmation that this adventure was not just about the hike but more important, about making human connections, something poor pitiful Blanche never understood.
Hey Donna, it was so unexpected especially since I looked like muddy afterbirth and smelling of Eau de Cow aftershave. I now believe it is the magic of Hadrian's Wall Path. It transforms people.
I just love random acts of kindness!