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  • Writer's pictureNeil

From Hustyn Hill to Geraniums


There’s a hill. I’ve known it all my life as Hustyn Hill but it’s also known as Hustyn’s Hill or Bishops Wood Hill. It’s situated near Burlawn, just outside Wadebridge.


Now this hill is steep, if not the steepest then without a doubt, one of the steepest hills in Cornwall. If you drive down this hill the road seems to disappear in front of you. You might even regret driving this way. There’s no going back ....... then the road seems to disappear again. You’re committed, thankfully it’s not far to the bottom where you cross an Irish bridge. You’re likely to be slightly more sweaty than when you started the descent.


I found this description of the hill on a cycling website.

Start as you cross the stream, round the bend, pass the first 28% warning sign and then keep left at the fork. If you can climb this next stretch of road you'll pretty much be able to climb anything. Viciously steep, strewn with gravel and debris, punctuated by momentum-sapping ridges it's a perfect storm of obstacles. A large lump in the tarmac marks the end of the steepest stretch. It's still very hard after this, 20% easing back, then 20% again. But it does eventually abate and after numerous kinks right and left, you'll eventually reach the summit of Cornwall's hidden beast.


“Where’s he taking us today?”

If you look at the trajectory of my condition, it follows a gradual downhill path followed by an ever steepening decline at the end. A bit like driving down a country lane only to find yourself at the top of your very own Hustyn Hill. It’s steep and it’s only going to get steeper. I think if a fit and healthy version of me fell and bruised my ribs I’d feel sorry for myself but add that to my lot and its a real worry, am I nearing the top of my Hustyn Hill? I hope not, not yet anyway. I'm also a few days into my extended chemo recovery period. I feel no discernible improvement. In fact in some aspects I feel decidedly worse. I’m reluctant to let my consultant know my feet still hurt. Up until now, by the time I’m due for more treatment, my feet have been fine. Are my sore feet a sign that I’m reaching a point where the chemo is beginning to damage me irreversibly? Am I worrying unduly?


Whatever's happening it seems I’m totally in the lap of the Gods.


Whatever is going on, on Thursday I’m still walking. My feet may hurt but it seems that using them has little impact on how they feel. I suppose I'll find out.

Anyway today is a red letter day. We’re having a trip to Bodmin Airfield to book my scenic flight over Cornwall then we’re going to Trago. What a day to savour. We’re off to Trago for a washing line and maybe some geraniums.



The sun is shining.

It’s going to be a good day.


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