Two Walks and a Drive

A quick take on our recent vacation(s)

We recently took a vacation.

Scratch that: we took three vacations, each about five days long, and each uniquely different. Each was, in its own way, a “bucket list” trip: something we had always wanted to do.

The middle part—track days at Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps in Belgium and the Nürburgring Nordschleife in Germany—was what prompted the excursion, but we figured that since we were spending the time and money to fly to Europe, we might as well add on a visit with some old friends who had recently moved from Liverpool to the Lake District in the northwest of England and then—why not?—spend a few days wandering around Paris.

I’m not going to bore you with a lot of details, nor with (many) pictures. I don’t have any funny stories; I had no adventurous mishaps, unlike one of my fellow drivers had at the ‘Ring. (There’s no “track insurance” at the ‘Ring; if you crash the car, you agree to pay the cost to replace it. Shudder.)

But there were insights—oh hell, I’m just back from Paris, aperçus—that speak to the reasons I travel in the first place: to understand myself and the world better. To tell you the truth, I’m still processing these (that and all the vegetables that were bursting from our garden on our return). So today, I just want to offer a sneak peak into some topics that I’ll be visiting in the weeks ahead. 

A New Way of Thinking about Walkability

We planned nothing about our trip to the Lake District. Not true. We planned one thing:  we planned to place our trust in our friends Chris and Siobhan. “We don’t care what we do,” we told them. “Just show us the things you think are cool about where you live.”

What they showed us was a new way of thinking about walkability. Our first day there, fresh off the airplane, they took us on a 6-mile walk that ended at the Golden Rule pub in nearby Ambleside. The next day we walked 12 miles, up and over several fells (that is, hills), through bracken and by old stone walls, and popped into Tweedies pub in Grasmere before continuing our walk back home. The last full day, we walked another 12 miles, up and over Laughrigg Fell to a pub in Elterwater, then up and back to return home. And all the while, we talked about all the other walks they could take right out their front door—and the pubs they could string along the way. What a way to live!

Sara and I often talk about wanting to live somewhere with more walkability than where we are now ... and somehow we found it here by accident. The only problem: it’s in northern England. Our challenge now is to find this kind of walkability within reach of our kids. 

Stone walls and bracken on the way to Grasmere

Slow Down to Go Fast

When I learned that the entire first day of track driving at the Nürburgring was going to be lead-follow, I was bummed. In my experience, this way of learning a track forces you to be captive to the slowest driver in your group—and I wanted to go fast! By the end of the day though, I realized that I was driving more quickly and with more confidence than I could possibly have managed on my own. Our lead instructor had built us up slowly and the result was that we could handle far more speed ... and keep our car on the track. Most of us anyway. 

There’s a lot to unpack about these track days, from the sheer magnificence of Spa, to the complexity of the ‘Ring, to the bravado of Dutchman Ron Simon, impresario of the RSR driving operation, and finally to the power of lowering expectations, something I did in part thanks to the guidance of driving guru

Ross Bentley

of Ross Bentley's Speed Secrets. All I can say is that I improved my driving more in 3 days with RSR than I had in 40 track days before this. Understanding why will be the subject of a future essay.

Entering Pouhon/Double Gauche at Spa; photo of me taken by frozenspeed.com

Likable Parisians

Nobody goes to Paris expecting to like Parisians. But I did. What I liked best was how little they cared about being liked. Nobody put on a fake smile when I passed them on the street. When I bought a croissant or an espresso, nobody asked me how my day was going or wished me “a good one.” Typically, the only acknowledgment you’d get was steady eye contact. I see you, but I don’t know you. Yet with their friends it’s all laughing, hugging, kiss-kiss. They’re not cold; they just aren’t interested in wasting friendliness on strangers.

Parisians are independent as hell, and from a very early age. In the parks where we roamed (roaming to parks, by the way, was our mission), we’d often see kids running and riding bikes and scooters, as free as can be. Their parents didn’t hover over them like they needed to be protected from the world. One little kid biffed off his scooter and went face first into the gravel, but nobody came running and he didn’t burst into tears. He just stood up, shook himself off, and kept going. Teenagers roamed everywhere, often by themselves. 

These kids went round and round; their mother was immersed in a book

My favorite part of Paris, though, was the system of public drinking fountains that are spread throughout the city. Sprinkled among the hundreds of fountains are a handful that dispense cool sparkling water. Once we discovered this, we planned our daily walks around a visit to these fountains.

Our favorite water fountain in Paris

I intend to explore each of these insights more in the weeks to come. I’ll be interested to hear what you think, as always.