When I was little I hated walking.  If Mum and Dad uttered the dreaded ‘we’re going for a walk’ I pretty much instantaneously developed a tummy ache. I’m not sure why I bothered as I’m pretty sure the response was always that ‘a nice walk would make it better…’

It wasn’t just as a child either.  I remember a Boxing Day walk as an adult where my sisters packed their pockets with Celebrations chocolates to entice me around, the way you’d get a reluctant dog to follow you with treats.  And there was a holiday in my 30’s with two friends who loved walking, so I had no choice, but did insist that I would only walk if we finished at a pub or somewhere I could have a cream tea.  I just didn’t see the point of walking for walkings sake.  If there was a reason, that was fine, but otherwise…nah.

It was slightly ironic; my maiden name was ‘Walker’, and I did not get the whole walking thing.

But now – no longer a Walker – I seem to have become a walker.

It might have been reading ‘The Salt Path’.  It might have been that the weather changed just enough for it to be a pleasure, it might be my age, or it might be because all the stars all suddenly aligned, but suddenly the thing that used to give me tummy ache is the thing that lets the knots inside loosen and my head to (mostly) empty of the thoughts that usually circle and circle and circle and circle….

For the last few weekends Mr R and I have packed into a rucksack a round of banana and peanut butter sandwiches (him) and banana and almond butter sandwiches (me), two cheese and pickle rolls, a pack of bourbon biscuits and an apple each (which we pretty much always bring back, slightly bruised).  One small flask of tea to share, three bottles of water, Percy’s walking water bowl and two cans of cider.  Himself has mapped a route on his OS map app, we’ve put on the Percy hiking harnesses and off we’ve gone – at least 10 miles and usually including at least one big hill (top of the world!).  And I have (mostly) loved every minute.

We’ve downloaded a plant recognition app and a bird call app and we’re trying to educate ourselves between our breakfast and lunch stops.  And although it’s taken a good few decades to get here; I’m rather proud of this new part of me.

And today I am especially proud.  Because Mr R is away…and I did it anyway.  I am notoriously bad at map reading (not sure if I mentioned that time I drove from Somerset to Cornwall rather than to Kent?  Right road; wrong direction).  Even last week with Mr R supervising I took us the wrong way twice and had an actual paddy with the app because it was just stupid. So yesterday Percy and I did a 13.5 km loop from home that I mostly knew, but followed the map to make sure I was doing it right.  There was only one slightly awkward moment when I asked some scouts if they were ok with their maps and directions…and then had to backtrack as I’d read mine wrong and missed the turn….

And today.  Today Percy and I got up at 6am ready for a 6.30am departure only to discover ‘all trains will be replaced with a replacement bus until 8.30am’.  So we delayed things a bit, and then we:

Got the bus:

Got the train:

And walked back – only 12.5 km, but the first half was entirely new to me…and we didn’t get lost!

And I don’t know if it was the fact that I had to map read and convince Percy to behave like a normal dog on his harness rather than some sort of strong man hefting a lorry along with all his might.  Or whether it was having breakfast in a lovely quiet graveyard of a church so different to others that it has a toilet to use and tea, coffee and squash to help yourself to.  Or having lunch looking at the Chattri, which is a really special place to be. Or whether it’s because I finally got to see a woodpecker as it flew at head height across my path.  But my head was only interested in what was there in that minute.  And that was blimin’ lovely.

Lovely, that was, until the critical care nurse called (yes, on a Sunday!) about  Mum and Dad.  But frankly, if you have to have those sorts of conversations, having them sitting on a hill, looking across the South Downs at cows and sheep while you sip your cider and eat another bourbon, isn’t a bad option.

So yesterday and today was Epic Walk 4 & 5.  There may be a plan brewing.  It might be a terrible plan. But one thing the blog has taught me is that terrible plans do at least make blog posts.  And there might be a few walking exploits in the lead up too, as did I tell you about who I met today…?  I’ll make that a post for another day 🙂