Good News/Bad News

Ok. So I have some good news and I have some bad news. I will do the bad news first, just to get it out of the way. Here it comes... my camera broke. Yup. I was hiking (I will get to that) and I wanted to take a picture of myself so I put it on a fence post and it took the picture but fell off because of the wind and landed right on the lens part so now it won't turn on or whatever. To be more specific, it will turn on but the lens part won't extend at all, it just makes a grinding noise and then on the screen it shows E18. Then the camera shuts off. I was insanely depressed but I guess I have moved on now. I sort of wanted to get a new camera anyway, I suppose... Now I have my excuse. On the other had, I'll just say it, it sucks, a lot. That camera has basically been an extension of me since I got it two years and one month ago (exactly, as a matter of fact). It's like what I would imagine not having an arm would feel like. I feel very naked without it. Ugh. So there's the bad news.

More bad news I guess. Because of the broken camera situation, I can't post pictures today and I couldn't take pictures for half my day. So there will be no pictures until I can get another camera. Sorry!!!

Now for the good news! I had an idea in my head last night of something to do but I didn't post about it because the entry was kind of long and I wasn't sure if I would actually go through with it or not. Anyway, I went to Constable Country. That's an area about an hour train ride northeast of London where an artist named John Constable grew up and did most of his paintings. Constable Country itself is a very shallow valley made by the Stour River. That walley (before it was called Constable Country) was and actually still is referred to as Dedham Vale. It's mroe marshy and stuff than I had thought but it was still very beautiful. The most famous area of the Country is Flatford Mill. Constable made a painting of this mill with the bridge and the river and it sold for a ton of money. As a matter of fact, Constable's work is some of the most expensive paintings you can buy now. As I said, he is very famous (wasn't when he was alive though). He liked painting landscapes and sky and stuff like that and Constable Country is perfect for that.

I left my flat at around 8:30 this morning with a lunch and some books and other necessary things but no map of the area. The only information that I really had was some directions from the town of Manningtree (where the train stops) to Flatford Mill. I got on the train at Liverpool Street (picture 1). When I got off the train, it was really cloudy and I was worried because the forecast called for mostly sunny and I really wanted some sun while I was walking. So I walked and followed the directions. Turns out that in January the path is super muddy (picture 2). It made for an interesting hiking experience to say that least. I trudged on, avoiding mud as much as I could. Fields were the main land around me with the River Stour cutting through but they were still very pretty if you ask me (picture 3 and 4). I ended up taking the wrong turn somewhere and walked toward a town with a church spire sticking out it instead. On the way there, I ran into a group of people pheasant hunting. I had heard their gun shots as I was walking. They were nice and we talked for a little bit. I made my way to the church spire. It turns out that the town I came to was Dedham.

Dedham was where Constable went to school as a boy. He did some paintings of the town and stuff from far off. I guess I mean he didn't paint the town but he painted it within some of his landscapes. Constable's father owned a mill in Dedham and in Flatford (the famous one) and another mill somewhere else. John, being the oldest, was expected to take over the family business. He didn't want to; he had fallen in love in painting. So his dad let him. Back to my story, I walked through Dedham, I explored the inside of the church (picture 5) and church's cemetary (picture 6), walked along the main drag (not much to it but I still liked it), and even had a little conversation with a couple of older women who were on a walk in the town as well. Then I continued on my roundabout way to Flatford Mill.

As I was walking, I was thinking about the difference between being lost and not knowing where you where you are going. At this point in my journey, I was not lost, I just didn't know where I was going some of the time. I followed the well defined, and muddy, path but I wasn't sure how far it was to the Mill and all that jazz. I tried to take a detour to another little town where John's parents are buried but I wasn't sure where I was going so I turned around. I crossed over the River on a wood bridge (picture 7). By this time, the sun had come out I was at the top of a hill (picture 8) and it was really beautiful and I wanted to remember that moment so I decided to do something stupid. I put my camera on a small, woobly fencepost and take a timer shot. It took the picture (picture 9) but as soon as it did, a gust of wind came and knocked the camera down right on the lens part. I was devastated. I was depressed. I was really mad at myself. When I was putting the camera on the fencepost I knew it was risk but there wasn't anyone else around and the moment meant a lot to me. Oh well. Life happens. I walked back down the hill and continued on my way to the Mill by walking along the River. I was still very angry and sad but as I walked, those things melted away and I just had to smile because of the amazing scenary around me and the sunshine and the fresh air and the fact that I was hiking again.

I finally got to Flatford Mill and man did I wish I had my camera. I ate my PBJ sandwiches next to the mill, right on the river. It was fantastic. I decided to just keeping moving and not linger too long there. I was still mildly upset about the camera and none of the buildings were open, they are only open on Saturday and Sunday in Jan and Feb. Dumb. I walked my way back to the train station amid sunshine and blue skies. I proceeded to walk to the town of Manningtree inself. On the way there, I walked by a couple of city worker guys. As I walked past them, they looked me up and down and I heard one of them say, "Another one from London, eh" and the other worker grunted in agreement. That was awesome. One of the best compliments I have received. The town isn't much but I walked to the shore of the river. At Manningtree, the Stour opens up really wide before it goes into the ocean. It's a mix of salt and fresh water sort of. So I technically wasn't at the ocean but I walking along a big body of water. I loved it. I love walking by, looking at, and just being around water. It's very calming. I tried to walk back to the train station by another route but ended up not knowing where I was going again (not lost though). I eventually walked around enough to get my bearings (keeping the river on my right at all times was a good help) and got back to the train station at around 4. I estimate that I walked somewhere between 8 or 9 miles today. The train ride back was very pleasant, I had a book and my Zune and the there was a gorgeous sunset. I rode the Tube back and ate pizza for dinner and then read some more (I am devouring "Skinny Dip"). Now I'm here.

You know, even with my camera (probably my prized possession, at least 1A with my Zune) breaking today, this was still probably my favorite day here. That's saying something too. I mean with the Tower Bridge day or the first night I was here when I walked around with Vanessa or almost any other day that's a tough list to be the best of. I just plain forgot how much I love walking around outdoors with the sun on my face and a backpack on my back. I mean, it was just plain wonderful. The same thing happens on the first hike of each of our annual summer vacations. Anyway, i had a lot of fun with one bad spot mixed in. I wonder what tomorrow will bring? We'll just have to wait and see.

Au revoir!