FORGET THE WIFEY (Who’d want me?) or even the WIFI… let me introduce you to Eiffie, my new patriotic companion!
Like or loathe the idea, I intend to take this doubly iconic (but singularly symbolic) character up every Wainwright in town. Not that I’m French or anything, though with Liz Truss tossed and BJ threatening a Boris-jumpback, I’m seriously considering changing my nationality for good.
I noticed that quite a few folks take cute cuddly toys along with them on their climbs, celebrating with a group photo on top. That seemed fun and vaguely purposeful and I got to wondering what fluffy fellow could keep me company on my hikes.
Mr. Piggy was my first choice, a lovable old pink pig resembling a miniature fart cushion who emits a gruff ‘oink’ if you squeeze his tummy (or sit on him).
The sentimental value tickbox is covered, as I’m almost certain my daughter gave him to me many moons ago. So, I reminded myself that the last thing I must do upon leaving my place in the suburbs of Paris and heading for the Lakes is forget Mr. Piggy.
Sure enough, the last thing I did upon leaving my place in France was… forget Mr. Piggy. Yeah. The need for a Plan B suddenly became pressing. I’ll already have to do my first two Wainwrights, Latrigg and Blencathra, again with my chosen mascot; I don’t want any more to be without my new best buddy for the photocall on the summit.
Sure enough, the last thing I did upon leaving my place in France was… forget Mr. Piggy. Yeah. The need for a Plan B suddenly became pressing. I’ll already have to do my first two Wainwrights, Latrigg and Blencathra, again with my chosen mascot; I don’t want anymore to be without my new best buddy for the photocall on the summit.
I’d been thinking that a funny Eiffel tower would be pleasingly distinctive – she is my creative muse, after all. However, I hadn’t planned on it being quite so… patriotic, for a country of which I am a patron but not yet a patriot! I’d seen a soft pinky-purple one somewhere but it wasn’t to be.
At the Eurostar terminal there was only one option: a blatantly tricolour-clad model, but at least he/she/it had a cheery smile and a wink, so here it is!
Choosing the name was the next challenge. It makes me cringe when I say it, but I’ve gone this far and there’s no going back: Eiffie. Pronounced ‘eye-fee’. It is what it is; it’s vaguely cute; it’s not immediately clear if it’s a boy or a girl. It looks more like a boy, I reckon, but I refer to the Eiffel tower as ‘Lady Eiffel’, so maybe it’ll be a she after all.
Watch out for an interminable series of shots of her on top of various Lakeland peaks and groan if you wish at any ridiculous stories I might concoct around her ‘adventures’ – I get it and I feel you!
Happy hounding!
The Laggard of Lakeland 
(Lakeland Chronicles No.23)
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Wainwright Log: 4 of 214 Fells Felled / 0 Books Bashed / Visit Log
