Drifting and striding with Geoff Nicholson - author of The Lost Art of Walking, and Walking in Ruins withcholson, author of Toff Nidrifting and stomping withcholson, author of The Lost Art of Walking, considers the narrower and wider shores of obsessive pedestrianism.

Friday, August 2, 2019


I’ve been listening to Toby Jones on BBC radio reading The Great Romantic: Cricket and the golden age of Neville Cardus, by Duncan Hamilton.

Some claim that Cardus is the greatest cricket writer ever.  I’ve always thought there was something not quite authentic about his ‘poetic’ style:  the guy on the right below seems to share my opinion:

It was interesting to hear in the broadcast that Cardus carried an ebony walking stick ‘purely for ornamental purposes' because it ‘allowed him to pose.’  There is supposedly some footage of this, but I can’t find it in the usual places.

Cardus did list walking as one of his hobbies, and in the radio reading, and therefore I suppose in the book, there was a nice quotation from him about walking.  He said, ‘The tragedy of what is called old age is that the body gets older and the mind gets younger.  I want to go for an eight-mile walk.  My mind goes for an eight-mile walk.  My damn legs won’t go.’

I haven't experienced that yet, and I hope I'm some  way from there, but it sounds all too likely.

Incidentally, there’s a street in Manchester called Neville Cardus Walk .  It looks like this:

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