We'll Keep a Welcome in the Hillside

This is the title of the one the greatest Welsh choral pieces and sums up the spirit of comradeship I have always found in the hills and mountains of Great Britain. In the Powsers we often mused over the greetings between fellow mountaineers and how it varies from the car park to the top of the mountain. You will find that car park greetings, or the exchange of a cheery 'good morning', at the start of a day can be restricted to a muffled 'hello' at best, or, at worst totally ignored. In truth the latter example is usually the behaviour of the car park tourist; the specimen that rarely leaves a radius of 100 yards from his car and has his lunch in the pub. He never goes to the Lake District or North Wales between September and May and usually wears white trainers, his favourite team's football shirt and a baseball cap with NYC on the front.

As you move away from the car park and start a long energy sapping climb up a steep hill and meet other like minded groups you can often not only exchange a greeting but a comment or two on either the weather or steepness of the climb. A kindred spirit and a recognition that you are conjoined in the simple pleasure of walking.

Then as you reach the open tops and stride out in freedom and fresh air and with the breeze blowing in your face you meet others going their choosen way and spontaneously start a cheery quippy conversation on the lines of; 'It's a bit blowy today init?', or 'Hey up, you're goin well, pal'. The witty response would go something like 'Aye! It blows out the cobwebs dunt it' or 'There's along way to go yet, but it's a grand un today int it?'.

When you reach the summit of a big hill you often find that others there will greet you like an old lost favourite cousins from years ago. The joint sense of achievement, pleasure and enjoyment have transcended everything. Everyone around you is your alley and you share your love of the mountains and all that goes with it.

It is often the same at the end of the day as you sup on that thirst quenching pint of Jennings bitter (if you are in the Lakes), or a good pint of Robbie's (if you are in Wales), or a pint of Black Sheep (if you are in the Peak District). The comradeship draws a conversation and the banter begins. You had better watch out because everybody gets a share and you have to give back as good as you get!

I think this is typical of the British sense of humour and it is a rare find outside the brotherhood of British mountaineering. The French mountaineers can be 'stand offish', perhaps taking things too seriously. This is especially the case in the Alps if you happen to cross the path of guide, he will go out of his way to cut you up for daring to go onto the same mountain as him. The Scandinavians just show you up with their expert skills and innate confidence. In Nepal the Sherpas will bring you early morning cups of tea and do everything they possible can to make sure you are having a great time.

These are good times that make walking in the hills a great day out. The fellowship of man and a welcome in the hillside being stoked up and kept warm for the next time you go out, rain or shine!

Unfortunately the pleasure of 'sharing the good times' with 'your fellow mountain walker' hasn't reached the hills of Hong Kong. Whilst on yesterday's little jaunt, although I didn't see a great number of people the majority I did see were Chinese, and they passed by as if I was invisible. With eyes forward and head still there was no way they would say hello or share their thoughts. Hell bent on moving in a straight line. I tried to coax an utterance on several occasions and received looks as though I was about to mug somebody. I met a few Germans, a cluster of French, a bevvy of Aussies and a fit British bird and received greetings from each of them that brought a spring in my step. But the Chinese contributed nothing. Not a sausage! It was as though we were in the middle of Kowloon each protecting our own little space. Pity really.