As part of my so far hugely successful attempt to develop a lovely t-shirt tan, I was back romping from Lewes to Hassocks this afternoon.
And, it being a Saturday, there was a fair amount of the Youth released into the wild, looking all Duke of Edinburgh Award'd up. Nothing wrong with that, as those pro-National Service types would no doubt attest. That said (and I didn't DofE myself) I would be prepared to bet that at least part of the weight they were toiling along under was probably illicit cider.
But learning to outsmart authority, or sobriety, is a key life skill. So is orienteering and, as you can see from the sign, there's none more necessary a skill needed on the Downs. It's all very 'this way, that way' a la Alice in Wonderland.
What disappointed me about DofE is that it could be so much more. When I think of the Duke, it's not his outdoor skills which spring to mind, it’s his stunning way with words. Most teenagers have a creative line in insults, but while they’re boning up on tent pitching and late-night sleeping-bag-swapping, why not also chuck in something a bit more cerebral?
It’s long been my dream to be insulted by the Duke, although I fear my opportunity has passed. I met the Queen when I was three and was so overwhelmed by shyness and terror that the flowers I was due to hand over had to be prised from my hands. I assume the Duke was there - I had my eyes shut for the duration - so could have swooped in and insulted me at any point. There’s no record of this, however, which saddens me.
What we have learned:
Gordon Brown may be the first candidate for the new-style DofE, judging by this week’s antics
Boot update:
Smug comes before a fall and sure enough, I was on the verge of thinking they were the best shoes I'd ever owned when something happened to one of my big toes. No idea what. It felt like it was trying to separate out into its constituent molecules. Just goes to prove what I've long suspected - I'm not breaking them in, they're breaking me in.
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