Today Brother Tobias is a little babelas.
Nothing seems quite right. About twenty walkers have just crossed my line of vision, one behind the other like cows heading for a trough. All of them had Nordic walking poles, propelling themselves along with alternate arm movements like mad cross-country skiers. This on a nearly flat, grassy field in southern England, for heaven's sake.
I suppose they were trying to keep fit. According to one US supplier, Nordic ski walking burns up to 46% more calories than walking without poles. But, they warn, 'hundreds of backpackers have tumbled down the trail when their telescoping poles collapse unexpectedly'.
I am not a nice person; I find the image of hundreds of backpackers tumbling down the trail clutching unexpectedly telescoped walking poles funny. That'll teach them to be 'backpackers' and to walk 'trails', and to adopt an unnatural walking technique that is harder work and carries group tumbling risks.
I should never have drunk John's elderberry wine.