I am not a natural jogger. Stalker, yes. Jogger, no. But it is the persona of a jogger that I must inhabit if I want to follow in Fleabag’s footsteps.
Series 1 episode 3 of Fleabag begins with the eponymous heroine jogging in Kensal Green Cemetery. If I were a jogger, I might jog there. It is a72-acre oasis of peace in central London. As G. K. Chesterton remarked: “Paradise by way of Kensal Green.”
Jogging here, I could be kept company by the spirits of Anthony Trollope; of the Hockney immortalised Ossie Clark; of the original W. H. Smith no less. In the shadow of the gas holder in Canal Way, Freddie Mercury is commemorated.
The cemetery has two designated conservation areas and is home to a good cross-section of London’s indigenous bird and animal life. And yet, amidst all this biodiversity, I seek just one Fleabag.
I run where she ran; stop and pant where she stopped and panted; sit on the bench she shared with her sister. I’m not surprised she needed a rest. She must have been knackered. After all, Kensal Green Cemetery is a good 5kms from her café in Dartmouth Park.
Really, Fleabag, if you want a jog, Hampstead Heath is a hell of a lot closer.
© Stephanie Snifter
Deep breath. Celebrity bloodhound, Steph Snifter, needs a good long sit-down after her jog.