Letter from a terrace in Palma 9 The Sugar Loaf

                                                                             22 September, 2017

Good morning,

The Sugar Loaf

I woke this morning in a cold sweat.  It took me at least five minutes to think clearly and to realize that my dream was just that, a dream and no more than a dream.   

In my dream, then, I was climbing the Sugar Loaf, one of those lovely hills in the beautiful country near Abergavenny in Wales.  Seen from the little town at its foot, it has a perfect shape, a little like a Welsh Mount Fuji.  The old loaves of sugar looked something similar. Hence the name.

Let me explain what terrified me last night.  

I joined a large group of walkers at the foot of the hill. First we all had to go to a machine and scan the walking permit which we had downloaded and printed a month before.

On scanning our permit, we were each given a number which was our identity for the day. On the Sugar Loaf you are nameless from when you check in at the ‘Up Entrance’ until you check out at the ‘Down Exit’ at the base of the hill.  Once you have checked out, your number goes into the data base and you are not allowed to visit the hill for the rest of that year.

At the ‘Up Entrance’ there was a large sign with the text in big letters “Enjoy your Sugar Loaf Experience.  An Award-winning Attraction”.  Entry to the ‘Up’ path meant joining a long queue. This queue was organized in those zig zag lines where you have to shuffle along one way then turn and walk back in the direction from which you have come.  This is how you queue when you have to show your passport at airports. At each turn you see the same faces, tired but resigned, of all the other people.

Having spent twenty minutes going backwards and forwards we at last passed through the ‘Up’ security gate. Any sandwiches, flasks of tea and bottles of water in our rucksacks were confiscated. No personal food or drink is allowed on the walk. On the other side we were met by a robot which smiled mechanically and addressed each of us in turn ‘We hope you have a lovely time while participating in your Sugar Loaf Experience’.

There was one route up and one route down the hill. These routes were cordoned off from the base to the peak leaving a path about two yards wide.  Straying into the heather and bracken on either side was strictly forbidden. Offenders were fined heavily if they did this and on a second infringement they were banned from walking on any hill in the country for the next ten years. 

We then began the ascent.  Walkers are asked to go at the same speed so that a regular line is maintained the whole time.  There is to be no bunching or grouping.  Chatting is allowed but only to one person at a time. Pairs are permitted.  Groups of three or more are not. Nor were we allowed to stop to take a photograph.  All walkers are given 30 seconds at the peak when they may take photos. No walker can change direction or choose another route.  It is like being in Ikea.

In this way we went up this beautiful hill, too frightened about disobeying one of the rules to take in the views over Wales with the wooded valleys and peaks of the Brecon Beacons beckoning hazily in the distance. One older man near me found the pace of the line too much and we took turns to help him along so that he would keep up with the rest of us and not exceed the time allotted for the climb.  If he arrived late, penalty points would be added to his walking permit. Collecting ten penalty points means a ban from walking in future on any hill over 500 metres high.

Each person was allowed 1 minute 30 seconds at the top because we were so many.  The time is calculated by a sensor which counts all the people walking in the Up lane. An extra 30 seconds were available if you wished to take photographs but this had to be paid for by credit card before a personal photography permit was issued.

There was a fast food franchise at the top of the hill selling hot dogs, ice cream and Coca Cola.  The prices corresponded to the altitude we had reached. No food or drink was allowed unless purchased in the fast food stall. A stream of pure, cool water which had originally crossed the official ‘Up’ path had been diverted and was no longer accessible though it still remained in sight about ten yards from the path.

At the peak the Official Experience Photographer took a picture of each walker, whether they wanted it or not.  This could be bought later at the Down Exit at the bottom of the hill.

After the photo, we shuffled along to the start of the Down Lane, occasionally snatching a glimpse of the hills in the distance. Loiterers were reprimanded and their walking permit numbers were scanned for future reference. Two offences of slow walking at the peak meant they would not be given another permit for two years.

We began the descent and did our best to keep up a steady pace in the same way as we had gone up.  There were no pauses and no stops.

At the bottom was a machine with faces ranging from a broad smile to a small smile. We had to press one to assess our ‘Sugarloaf Experience’.  Having chosen a face, we then applied for a ‘Personalized Sugar Loaf Certificate’.  This was issued once we had swiped our credit cards once more.

Just before we left by the Down Exit we were met by another robot which said, ‘We hope Your Sugar Loaf experience will be something to remember.’  I do not think that I will ever forget it.  

‘Tell others about your Sugar Loaf experience’ continued the robot. 

Well, now I am telling you.

Next month, all being well, I will be in Wales once more.  I will go the Sugar Loaf and I will walk up it. I will walk sometimes slowly and sometimes fast. I will stop from time to time.  I will walk willy nilly around the top as much I wish.  I will take as many photographs as I want and I will chat to other walkers, three, four or five at a time. I will sit down on the grass on the far side sheltered from the wind. I will slowly eat my sandwiches and drink my tea. I will quietly gaze at the mountains, hills and valleys around me.  I will enjoy the purple of the heather and the sight of the clouds racing eastwards towards England. I will walk down when I am ready and, above all, I will reassure myself that, for now at least, my dream was no more than a dream.

Yours sincerely