The Inevitable Book Giveaway...

The transition from doing the work to seeing the actual finished thing has been so crazy that I can hardly believe it happened but I think I can now safely say...

I wrote a book!

It's being published by The Tate on 1st June. It's about London, a little in the same way lots of my Paris posts on Badaude are about Paris: there's lots of hanging around, people watching and drinking cups of coffee, but also maps and useful information so that you can take each walk yourself. That said, it also makes a very good lavatory book: you don't actually have to do any walking.

Maybe I managed to describe it a little better here.

I just received an advance copy. It's been to a few pubs with me, and round Oxford on May Morning but has managed to remain unscathed. I'd like to give it to one of you in advance of the publication date.

There are a convenient couple of blank pages at the beginning of the book that are just crying out to be scribbled on so, to make the giveaway copy a little more special, I'd like to do a drawing inside.

If you would like to win this special pre-publication copy including a piece of original artwork, tell me a story about a walk you've taken below.

You have a week to think: I'll give the book away on Monday 16th.

(I'll be talking about the book at special 'not-just-a-booksigning' events at Shakespeare and Company Bookshop in Paris on 30th May; at The Idler Academy on 1st June; at Foyles Bookshop on 4th June - this event will involve cake - and at The Tate Modern Bookshop on 11th June where I'll be doing another one of those large drawings on glass all day -  You're invited!)

Comments

[Val]

It was during the early days when I and Alex started dating, he is from Mexico, and I am from Taiwan, so we are two persons who used to be far away, but meet in the middle of the world, UK.

One night we took a walk together, just start from the dark alleys behind my room, and then walk through the quiet neighborhood, parks, sports centers, etc. They we stopped in the middle of nowhere, just in front of a garage, and he showed me “the Big Dipper” in the sky. Its clear, crystal and twinkling. It was such a common walk without any famous landmarks involved, actually we couldn’t see much because it was all dark on the ground, but we see the most beautiful Big Dipper in the sky. A walk does not only mean seeing beautiful details of ordinary life, it could be something extraordinary in the sky, or even the outer space!

Now we are engaged and getting married soon. Another beautiful surprise we had during a walk was passing Wellcome Collection and decided to walk in to take a look, and see you working on the beautiful wall painting :)!

[Analienparisienne.wordpress.com]

Delurking here to comment that this book looks VERY cool! It makes me wish I were an illustrator and/or graphic designer and could draw my own walk. :) This is just the kind of graphic book (in the "drawing" sense, lol) I loved as a kid. Noting the June 30th date at Shakespeare and Company. I'd love to be there!

As for my walk, I posted a walk as my second blog post on An Alien Parisienne. I linked it in there (hopefully successfully). The short of it is this: it was one of the first walks in Paris I intentionally took by myself after more than a year of living here in the city. I was incapacitated by anxiety/agoraphobia when I first got here, and it took me that long to get over the anxiety enough to go out for a walk on my own. It was one reason I started the blog: to help myself get out and experience Paris. It meant a lot to be to be able to do that walk because of the courage that it took for me to do so.

I love Val's romantic walk up there! I kind of wish my most memorable walk were a romantic one like that, but I admire my walk, too. It reminds me of how strong I have become since moving here.

What a cool post, Baudade! :) Thank you!
Paris Karin
(an alien parisienne)

[Analienparisienne.wordpress.com]

(Looks like the HTML I coded for the link did not work. If anyone is curious, though, it is, literally, my second blog post. It can be found on my Archives page. :) )

[Mike]

Congratulations, J. Mighty effort. My next trip to London may be some time away (quite some time), but this will do nicely in the meantime. Next stop, Amazon UK.

[Adam]

Wow - congratulations! I'll do my best to be at the Shakespeare and Company event.

I once woke up and realised that my previous memory was of leaving a bar, and that I had no idea how I got home, nor how long it took me. It's the only time such a thing has happened to me, but it is now my favourite walk in Paris, simply becasue I can imagine different routes and stories each time I look back on it!

[Cynthia Morris]

I'd just graduated from university with no clue what do do..other than head to the UK as part of a student work program.

In London, I attended the orientation session, bought a phone card to call my friends in Edinburgh, then headed to the Tube.

But at the entry, I discovered that I'd lost my Tube pass. I'd just spent all my cash on an expensive phone card. I had nothing on me but my orientation packet.

Using my new A to Zed, I paged my way through London. The route and even my destination - a squat I was staying at with a friend - was totally foreign to me.

For hours, I trekked across the city. An occasional "Y'alright?" from a passerby. Yes, I was alright, I'd say to myself, refusing for some reason to ask for help.

Four hours later, I arrived at the abandoned school house where my friend was squatting. I burst into the kitchen, and there he was, sitting at dinner with at least a dozen other squatters. I'd never been so happy to be 'home' in my life.

Now, I love treks across cities, with or without a map. That terrifying walk taught me a lot, but mostly what I know now: I am safe in the world, even with nary a sou in my pocket.

Can't wait to read your book!

[MarieP]

Newly married. Young and, well, dumb. Day trip to Zion National Park.

“C’mon,” he said, “we can do this!” So they began to walk along the trail to Angel’s Landing. They weren’t wearing hiking shoes. They didn’t have any water. They had no idea what they were getting into. It started out as a walk.

It became a forced march.

“It can’t be much farther” became his mantra as the walk turned into a hike which turned into a climb. Literally, a climb. At one point, they could only advance along the trail by using chains! The switchbacks were insane. It was a five-mile, five hour ordeal.

Quote: “The Angels Landing Trail is one of the most famous and thrilling hikes in the national park system. Zion's pride and joy runs along a narrow rock fin with dizzying drop-offs on both sides. The trail culminates at a lofty perch, boasting magnificent views in every direction. Rarely is such an intimidating path so frequented by hikers. One would think that this narrow ridge with deep chasms on each of its flanks would allure only the most intrepid of hikers.”

These were not people who could be described as “intrepid hikers.”

They finally made it. The view was incredible. Their thighs were throbbing (and not in a good, newly married kind of way). They sat down, briefly, to enjoy their accomplishment.

And then they turned and trotted back down the trail, clinging to the chains, zigzagging through the switchbacks, skirting the edge of the cliff, and finally leveling out to a simple walk back to the car.

They survived it. And it was quite a walk. But she will never trust him again when he says, “It can’t be much further!”

[Rachel]

I was twenty and interrailing around Europe and had just arrived in Venice (it was my first time not only there, but in Italy). I caught the vaporetto from the station down to St Mark's Square, dumped my rucksack at my pensione, came out and was immediately struck by a disconcerting feeling that I now know many first-time visitors to Venice experience: Venice seemed to be populated solely by tourists and people who catered to them. Determined to escape the crowds, I started walking east along the Grand Canal, not knowing where I was going but not feeling too concerned.

Past the Riva degli Schiavoni, the crowds started to thin and I began to hear more Italian than English/French/German. As I pressed on toward Castello, the street gradually emptied - even though it was mid-afternoon - until it was just me, a handful of other pedestrians, a line of lampposts strung along the widening expanse of the canal with the sea fanning out in the distance. I felt as if I were walking on a narrow bridge between the sea and the sky.

As I continued on, I noticed what appeared to be a garden or park - cool, green, shady and silent. I found a gate and turned in. As I wandered along the path, I came across buildings that looked simultaneously pompous and official and forlorn and slightly crumbling. Each one had the name of a country on a placard over the door. I had no idea what they were but I assumed that they were all abandoned foreign embassies. Apart from a black-clad old woman creaking along another path and a two stray cats - one black, the other a grey tabby - padding among the deserted buildings, I was alone in this mysterious place.

Three years later I became friends with a Venetian woman. One day over coffee I told her about my walk in the garden of the abandoned embassies, and she burst out laughing. 'That's the Giardini Pubblici,' she said, 'and what you thought were embassies are the pavilions of the Biennale!' I felt more than a little foolish, but even knowing the truth, I prefer to remember the place as an enchanted garden forgotten by the world.

Congrats on the book, it looks wonderful and I look forward to reading it!

[sakura]

I think one of my most memorable walks was when I was living in Pimlico as a student. My flatmate and I decided to go for a long walk along the Thames and we talked and walked for about 3 hours, passing Westminster, St. Paul's, The Tower of London, Tower Bridge (David Blaine was hanging in his glass box but we somehow missed him) and just as we were getting tired and it was getting dark, we stumbled upon this hidden marina in the middle of London. There were loads of beautiful yachts moored in this place surrounded by pubs and restaurants and I was totally mesmerised and confused about where I was. It just didn't look like London! We were parched so had a drink and then headed back home. It was only later that I realised it was St. Katherine's Dock and my friends working in the City all knew about it. Such a lovely place.

[Stella]

Congrats on the book!

My favorite walk in recent memory was through the city I've been living in for the fast few years in Colombia.
We walked through and out of the city up into the mountains. We saw many birds and bugs that I had never seen living in the city. We had a beautiful view of the city that sparked my renewed interest in the place I've grown bored of.

[badaude]

Someone just told me that I make everyone who reads this blog work too hard. Actually I was beginning to feel like the baddy in Truman Capote's short story Master Misery - who gets unsuspecting New Yorkers to tell him their stories, somehow at the same time mysteriously robbing them of their dreams. (At least I hope it doesn't work out that way for you: wonderful, funny, moving stories! Thanks!)

[jamy]

The last time I was in London, fall of 2010, I planned a walk for myself from knitting shop to knitting shop. I visited three in total and saw neighborhoods I hadn't ever visited. Most of the walk was along the Regent's Canal. I only had to dodge one rainstorm and I came home with enough wool to knit a pair of sock and a large shawl. I think I'll do it again next time in town. I've done it in NY and Seattle and it's a great way to see places that you would never visit otherwise--and if you're a knitter, there is never enough yarn. I even wrote about it: http://www.gratefuldating.net/2010/11/yarn-shops-of-london.html

[La Fille mal Gardee]

The book looks great! Congrats :) I am adding it to my Mum's birthday pressie list right away - she loves offbeat travel books (better yet I can borrow it!) And I wish I could be at Shakespeare and Co... Actually I wish I could be in Paris full stop. Haha

My favourite walk was when mum and I decided to do the Cinque Terre in Italy. Just picture it: tiny tracks clinging to the cliff side and winding through luscious orchards, regimented grapevines and ancient olive groves all with unparalleled views of the vast blue ocean. And to cap it all off I managed to tread in a pile of vomit, neatly deposited at the end of the track - complete with blood and random bits of bone - by one of the local stray cats. Not quite the ending I had envisioned. Still, I managed to console myself with fresh porcini mushroom pasta and wine from the vineyards I had just spent the day meandering through. Heaven.

[Dian Parker]

christmas 1972
Champs Élysée
early early xmas morning with my love
around the corner comes a little boy driving a bright bumblebee yellow kids car - a porsche knock-off I think - followed by a monkey in little shorts with a scarf around its neck. took 5 minutes before the parents turned the corner. no one else was on the street! true story. mind blowing. trippy. what an image!!!
CONGRATS ON YOUR BOOK - WAY TO GO!

[Amy]

When I was in graduate school in Seattle I lived in this neighborhood on top of a hill, and when I needed a break from reading I'd start to walk aimlessly. After a year I felt like I knew the few mile area around my apartment like the back of my hand, that while I might see a new cat or a different car, I probably wouldn't discover anything completely new. Sometime in the middle of summer I walked past the mansions just north, bypassed the edge of the enormous park I usually frequented and continued down the hill. I walked past towering apartment buildings and stopped to pick blackberries from a dense bramble and discovered, right in front of me, the entrance to a forested park. A deep, dense valley of trees and streams there, between my neighborhood and the next. A hiking trail led down into the valley and branched off, and as I stood under enormous cedars among dense moss and ferns, it was almost silent. Seattle to many people means wild forests and hiking trails, but this was smack in the middle of the city, bordering two busy, loud dense neighborhoods. And I was completely alone. It felt like a present.

[Harveyandlulu]

When I was about 10 I left my south London home telling my mum I wanted to visit the Science Museum; I was confident of knowning the way, and said I'd be back for lunch. I was trusted, in the mid 1960's to do this. There was lots of walking plus a bus and train or two but I made it. It was wonderful, the museum was packed with wonders. I remember my feet telling me it was time to stop so eventually I made my way home. I recall seeing my mother looking anxiously out of a window as I rounded the corner. My feet had been right sometime earlier, it had been time to go home and now I was some 3 hours past lunchtime. Walking felt safe but mum was worried. Her anxiety and I presume a telling off, didn't disuade me; London cotinues to be an exciting place to walk.

[Laurie]

Many years ago I worked one summer at Walt Disney World's Magic Kingdom in Orlando, Florida. The place is riddled with a tunnel system used by employees to get quickly from one place to another without disturbing guests. After putting on the company-supplied uniform ("costume") in the employee locker room, employees (aka "cast members") would often walk a long, bare, industrial corridor to the exit closest to their assigned workplaces. Sometimes you skipped the tunnel and entered via an employee parking lot, walking straight into the theme park. I never got tired of the sudden change from a utilitarian 20th century space to a romantic, late 19th century environment seemingly straight out of a Booth Tarkington novel. Sometimes I would stand at the threshhold of an entryway, looking first at heat-beaten cars on steaming asphalt, then at an idealized Victorian "Main Street USA" patrolled by horse-drawn trollies and human-powered popcorn and ice cream carts (of which I was one). Before then or since, I've never travelled so far in so short a physical space, just with a twist of my neck.