Walks and Thoughts

of Michael Simes

An old Man's Tale:



West Vale

Clay House


Cragg Vale



Pecket Well

Luddenden Dean

Jerusalem Farm

Catherine Slack

Stone Chair

It's Just Like Home:

Hong Kong





Marlborough Sounds


Milford Sound



Blue Mountains

Northern Beaches


A City Of Revolution:




Notre Dame

Walking the Dales Way

It Must Be Awful To Be Old

The prologue Talking about my age old generation and its genesis. A story of our times unfolded in the steadfast walk from Bradford to Bowness.
Chapter One Bradford Cathedral to Shipley. Setting off on a wing and a prayer along the Dales highway. Discovering rustic retreat sandwiched in the urban expanse. Walking the model village of Saltaire before the first peak of the moorland heights of Baildon and Ilkley. Cherishing the longevity trail as we contain our recollections.
Chapter Two From Shipley to Ilkley walking the moorlands to the Roman town. Searching for vitality in advancing age. Time reflected as adversary and companion.
Chapter Three Ilkley to Bolton Abbey placing our foot in the Priory and Burnsall our frame enters the slump. In our late period learning that slumber will prevent the relapse.
Chapter Four Bolton Abbey to Grassington on the way to Burnsall Bridge we discover lusty desires thrusting the old to the edge.
Chapter Five Grassington to Buckden tumbling alongside the remote peaks and troughs of this limestone plageground. Heading down to Kettlewell where Anglo-Saxons made their own. Here we toast the vital olders testing the boundaries.
Chapter Six From Buckden to Winshaw House walking to the Roman Cam High road. Through detached homesteads of Hubberholme, Beckermonds and Nethergill. Crossing the watershed to picture the three peaks of Whernside, Ingleborough and Pen-Y Ghent. The man made spectacle of Ribblehead viaduct a constant companion.

A turning point where our belated pigeon holes abandoned to a sexual fusion and renaissance. Time to raise the embryonic cells for the hot tempered philanderer.
Chapter Seven Winshaw House to Sedbergh with time out for walking away our sorrows through Dent into Cumbria. We will not walk alone in our hushed monologue amongst the souls unseen.
Chapter Eight  From Sedbergh to Moresdale Hall we touch the cocktail of rival rivers in the Dee, Rawthey and the Lune. We drag ourselves by remnants of old railways. Deserted lines and bridges neglected and left to fester.

Facing the shadow of our former self our thoughts stray towards mortality.
Chapter Nine From Moresdale Hall to Bowness on the final leg stretching out through Lakeland villages of Burneside, and Staveley to Lake Windermere. In the last lament we follow the old folklore. After a lifetime of silence we save ourselves to sing the sweetest swan song.