Hiking airports: Luton

– Fantastic news! Tjekvik’s company get-together will be February 6th-8th, and we’re inviting you all to London. Mentioned dates are fully paid for, and we can get your flight tickets on other dates if you’d like to stay on your own.
– That’s awesome! Cracow to London on February 2nd, and back to Cracow on the 12th.
– Cool, done. You’re flying to & from Luton airport.

The saying goes — “every reason is a good reason to get wasted”. Company get-together sounds like exactly such a reason. Having a weekend before the main event, and a weekend after gives plenty of time for that. I’d take the first one easy, and leave the real fun for the last 2 days in the UK.

– What you’re up to for the remaining days?
– I’m not sure yet. Checking out at the hotel on Friday, going with the flow, you know.
– You must check out Brighton, it’s freaking cool
– No no! You have too little time for that! You’d better go to the British Museum
– Natural History Museum is the best, go there (that actually is true, it’s fantastic)
– You must hike The Ridgeway, it’s the oldest trail in the UK
– The countryside south of London is great, go there to stay in the nature
– It’s all bad ideas, you can get weed & drinks at Soho

The list went on and on. Everyone who heard I’m staying for a weekend alone, without plans, was super helpful and threw a must-do proposal at me. I’d need at least half a year to do them all, and just thinking about making a decision could’ve gotten me a headache. No decision it was then.

I said my last “see ya” on Thursday evening, got back to the hotel, and fell asleep. I’ve let the morning happen, packed my shit, and left the room in a blissful state of having no idea where the hell am I gonna spend the next two days.

I had a few dreams about the next couple of days. First of all, hiking was the activity of choice. A lot of it, preferably the whole Saturday and a bit of Sunday. The subway and buses were off the table. I’d either hike directly from where I was or take a train. And the hike should’ve ended at the Luton airport or some close surroundings. This gave me a general radius of up to 60km around Luton, and a starting point at a train station. Because I was already in London I didn’t want to go directly to Luton — I’d rather take a train _somewhere_. I like trains.

Having looked at those dreams, the whole problem of choice disappeared. The only fitting idea was to start hiking somewhere on The Ridgeway. Walk the entire Saturday, spend a night somewhere. Then either take a bus to Luton Airport or continue hiking there.
Opening The Ridgeway map I immediately noticed Oxford was kinda close to the trail — about 6 hour walk. I have no idea why, but I immediately *knew* this is the place to head towards. The train from London to Oxford leaves from Paddington station, I liked the name of it.

At first, I wanted to reach the station and then choose a final destination. But when I got there, a train to Oxford was standing on platform 4, departing in 10 minutes. Less time is less thinking so I bought a ticket to Oxford and boarded the train. I wanted to do some googling, and maybe leave the train a bit earlier if I can find a place to spend the night. But, I only touched my seat and fell asleep. I woke up exactly when the train was leaving Oxford station, and ticket control arrived.

– I have this ticket but I kinda didn’t get out
– Ah, no worries mate, just leave at the next station and take a train back
– Cool, thanks. Shall I buy another ticket?
– No, let me write a note on this one.
– Awesome, thanks

I finally got to Oxford, and found a hotel an hour walk from the train station. The town is fantastic. It smells like knowledge (which smells like weed). Every other person is wearing at least one piece of clothing with the logo of some university. Libraries, bookstores, and student homes all around. And all this in buildings looking like castles. Feels like magic.

The only question left, was where to start the hike the next day. As I was where I was, the choice was obvious — Princes Risborough. It has a freaking cool name, and if you look at the train route from Oxford it’s ridiculous. Like it’s too close to go there in a straight line. The train makes a circle so you can enjoy the journey longer.

The hike took me through the last (or first, depending on the way you’d do it) 30 km of The Ridgeway. It’s a lovely walk through a forest, with views over the countryside. Wikipedia notes this as Britain’s oldest road.
February weather, the lack of leaves on trees, and grey sky had a calming effect, not to say depressive. I consider myself super lucky because I’ve experienced not a single drop of rain. I reached Ivinghoe Beacon after about 5 hours of hiking. , I wanted to stay around Dunstable, but feeling good I decided to take it all the way to Luton.

When I got closer to the town, crossing through some open field I heard the loud noise of a taking off airplane. I immediately got pretty bad expectations about the town I was about to see. An airport so close to the city, combined with English weather and highways around the center, can’t make up for a good place to live. I expected a whole range of pathological situations to see soon: substance abuse, violence, poverty, homelessness, etc. Living under the noise of those airplanes would be enough to get me suicidal.

When I saw the first buildings of the town it felt like visiting Katowice in the early 2000s. If you haven’t seen Katowice during that time, well, you haven’t missed a lot. Or you’ve missed very much, depending on which side you look at it (I loved it).

I did my best to not judge the town too early. ”I’m tired, I entered it from the wrong side, every town has its wrong side” — I’ve been telling myself. I reached my place for the night, between trash piling on the street. I left my stuff and went out to a pizza place close by. I ordered a Margherita and got back home. As I’ve been eating the pizza something felt wrong with it… It wasn’t bad, but something was not right. So I took another bite, then one more, not able to figure out what it was. Suddenly, it struck me — there was yogurt in it. I’m a tolerant person, but this was fucking too much for the day. Yogurt on pizza? Is this a thing anyone would do?

The next day, I had only a 3kms walk to the airport, and departure sometime in the evening. I wanted to get rid of my first impression and enjoy all the beauty of Luton. I started with a coffee, somewhere in the city center. It was Sunday, a little after 11 AM when I got there. The area was dead empty. One open cafe, clientele yesterday-ish. Everything else–closed shut. City-wide hangover day?

The Mall takes a central location in Luton. The name I found very accurate, this is The Mall. It’s huge, and for someone who comes here for the first time, it has some kind of gravity. I left it many times, only to circle around and find myself next to another entrance. Leaving & getting back to The Mall took me quite some time, so I had the pleasure to experience people filling up the place.

A group of three girls crossed the street in the worst possible place to cross it. A car stopped and honked at them. The scene with all kinds of shouted ”FUCK YOU!” started.

As I walked through The Mall some guy was slowly heading towards the exit, with a sandwich in his pocket. The guard rushed after him:

– Hey fucktard! That ain’t your fucking sandwich!
– Fuck you, it’s my fucking sandwich!
– You have not fucking paid for that fucking sandwich, fuck you!

The guard added a couple more “fucks”, took the sandwich out of the guy’s pocket, and told him to “get the fuck out”. Guy listened. As much as I like the English language I must admit it’s pretty boring when it comes to swearing and insulting…

Still doing my best to stay positive, I headed out of The Mall. Then I saw a couple next to a litter bin, a guy forcing a bottle of water onto a lady’s hand. Next to them was an opened suitcase, with various shit laying on the floor. I couldn’t understand the language they spoke, but it wasn’t necessary at all. I headed towards a distant cafe. I was just enjoying a snack when I noticed a guy drinking a beer on a bench a few meters away. A few moments passed and a guard ran towards him, almost shouting:

– POLICE, POLICE, POLICE IS ON THE WAY!

I left The Mall, with no desire to get back there, like ever again.

I wanted to stay positive about Luton. It didn’t make it easy, yet I still enjoyed it. Would I get back there? Well, maybe… Some research may suggest the most important part of an experience is its ending. And in this case, there’s a sidewalk all the way from the center to the airport. No jumping over highway barriers, no illegal crossing of any railway. That was the most pleasant hike to an airport I’ve ever had.