PushCOP29 Climate Justice Walk, Day 6: Mystery, Legends, and Messages The morning began with a tug of memory—a dear friend’s suggestion and a nudge

The morning began with a tug of memory—a dear friend’s suggestion and a nudge from my son and daughter-in-law about our past visit to Wandlebury Woods. My left foot, still healing from its saga, protested faintly, but I decided this was doable.

The city was already alive, teeming with schoolchildren in bright uniforms, hurried parents, and academic staff bustling along ancient, narrow footpaths. The chaos of modern life pressed in, but I navigated the currents with resolve. Somewhere along the way, I asked a group of young people about "Baku." Their puzzled faces chorused, "Don’t know." How quickly things change—just five years ago, when Greta Thunberg ignited a movement in London, school kids brimmed with climate passion.

Above, the sun played coy, hiding behind a sky brooding with dark clouds. It mirrored the mood at COP29 in Baku, where news of stalled agreements and the obstinance of polluters cast long shadows. Veteran COP watchers whispered reassurances—this midpoint tension was routine, and hope lingered at the edges.

As I approached Wandlebury, the sun suddenly emerged triumphant, casting the landscape in a golden glow. The legends and myths of this place felt alive, humming through the air. The roar of the A1307’s traffic was deafening, forcing me to mute my hearing aid. Yet, as I passed Addenbrooke’s Hospital and entered a quieter stretch, the din faded. In the park, the silence was almost overwhelming, as if nature itself was holding its breath.

I craved tea against the chill but settled for water and a banana, shedding layers from the warmth of my power walk. Nearby, an elderly Welsh couple walked their exuberant dogs. We exchanged smiles. I asked, “Is the climate changing?”

“A little unpredictable,” the man replied. His wife added with a laugh, “But isn’t that just England?”

The place had a magnetic energy—ancient paths whispering stories, landscapes too beautiful to leave. I met a young mother chasing her chirpy child and a handful of others enjoying the day. Of the seven people I spoke with, only one had heard of Baku. Perhaps The Guardian was not their preferred read.

Pausing on a bench, I called Anil Annaiah, the creative force behind COPPush29. His latest video update crackled through my phone, a vivid reminder of his cinematic tribute to Sangolli Rayanna, the freedom fighter from Belagavi. Messages from Poornima in Delhi and others poured in, lifting my spirits.

By now, my left leg demanded rest. The walk back was slower, more contemplative. I reflected on messages of solidarity—from India, South Africa, and even Tamil Nadu, where 42 Swedish youth were embarking on their Ahimsa Journey to promote a non-violent economy. Their road trip through the lush heart of Tamil Nadu filled me with joy, a thread of hope weaving across continents.

As I ended my day with a warm, spicy meal and crisp dosas, I couldn’t ignore the bittersweet reality. COP29’s outcomes might not fulfill all our dreams for justice, but the momentum for a well-being economy is unstoppable. Walking alone through magical landscapes, drawing strangers into meaningful conversations, and sharing stories—it’s exhilarating and exhausting, inspiring yet lonely.

Still, every step whispers a purpose. The trees, steadfast and silent, seem to echo my thoughts: The journey matters as much as the destination. And so, I write, share, and prepare for another day