One of the challenges we set ourselves on this journey was to fast walk for 10kms daily. I discovered this fast walking exercise after reading about someone with PD reducing his symptoms considerably. While Corrie does not have PD, she finds it difficult now to walk at a slower pace, finding that it energises her, more than tires her. So we fit the walks in where and when we can.
The first walk was the ‘while the clothes are washing walk’. I spent this time walking through the local park, up to the railway station (another home for cockatoos) and old buildings (such as banks. pubs and churches and many more). Only a quick glance of course, but their form and pristine condition entertained me on every corner.
Then there was the Silverton drive/walk twenty five kilometres out of town full of sharp ‘dips’ and ‘floodways’ and risky sheep. It was here we came across hills for the first time in a long time, nothing spectacular but after days of flatness it seemed unusual. The architectural delights continued in this, the initial hub before Broken Hill, and a pub that draws even the ‘pub resistant’ inside to its log fire. A few relaxed donkeys joined us on this red earth walk.
Our need for a salad drew us back to The Hill, where I went for my ‘when Corrie’s in Coles fast walk’ and explored some suburban streets, seeing these small lanes with a dozen ‘tiny house lookalikes’. Such a wonderful way of creating housing for all and they look great.
The sculptors’ walk, a more official route, took us up a red rocky hill to its very top. Up here, sculptors from Bathurst island, Georgia, Mexico, Syria Australia and the Tiwi islands lived in the open for some weeks, creating their own special sculptings, depicting, sun dials, people, animals and occupants of the sky.
The neighbouring hill was home to a cultural walk which led us beside a range of native plants, bushes, Aboriginal etchings and kangaroos. Once again our way of walking does not often lend itself to collecting vast rheems of local knowledge. Maybe we’ll do more of this on our return home.
Still kilometres not done. So a good walk to the Barra shop, a ‘walking waiting time’ for a well cooked fish, mission accomplished.

The rule, it says: ‘don’t stop, very fast, must walk
Observe yourself: core firm, heels first, legs high,
Arms up, hands stiff, can breathe, and smile and talk
Look out: don’t get run down, beware at lights.
Regain your balance if trip you can’t avoid
Do not collide, must keep a safe distance,
Ensure you follow all these rules, devoid
Of freedom, this is keeping of a trance.’
But there’s a catch, if caught it may be trouble
There’s six police, their eyes are everywehre,
I’d crossed on red, “come here”, said constable
How could I break my rules and not despair?
I kept on walking but stayed close to him
His Sergeant said: “don’t go nowhere, stay here,”
This rule not on my list, but was no whim
Caused me to circle staying in high gear.
“You have some thing that shows me who you are?”
“Sorry, no,” I said, “I have to travel light”,
“Doing research I have to journey far
For Parkinson’s, it is my sorry plight.”
“I’m sorry constable, I broke the law”|
(I’m getting dizzy now, I need a break),
“I’ll give you my mobile, then talk some more”
This made no sense, but all that I could make.
I’d dropped the ‘very fast’ from this, my walk
My core had left, legs low, arms down, bit sad,
Blood pressure low, I need to walk the talk
And keep my balance, that was down a tad.
“Okay, you can now go”, he said at last
But don’t again just walk on a light – red,”
I straightened up soon walking very fast,
Another rule, to check where e’er I tread.