Holiday on a long distance path - The South Downs Way

In 2022, we walked Hadrian's wall and found that a long distance footpath leaves you fitter, well-slept and relaxed. 

Along the way there are encounters with both human history and natural history - two of my passions.

In the evenings, one is often at a hamlet in the middle of nowhere so there are few distractions from reading, writing and painting.  There is time to reflect on the day's discoveries.

It's not entirely stress free. A little thing like sunburn, blisters or a stomach upset could threaten the whole trip.  One is obliged to take good care of one's body - a good thing in itself. 

When looking for our next footpath, the choice seemed obvious. I'd walked sections of the South Downs Way before and I liked the simplicity of it - high ridges with views,  larks climbing into the blue, and the footpath, a white line scored into the chalk soil. It promised freedom.

The South Downs Way is a recent construct rather than an ancient Way, but still, it is composed out of many old paths and drovers ways, and it would allow us a transect through the fascinating villages of southern England.

And all that sky!

Two people, ten days, one rucksack

For years it has been my dream to walk the length of Hadrian’s Wall until various musculo-skeletal issues made me think it was off the agenda for ever. 

However, foot surgery, Pilates lessons and my excellent osteopath Claire have made me think I could do it.

Nigel is a hero for agreeing to carry most of our crap.  But I don’t want to break his back, so we have been giving a lot of thought to how to minimise the load. 

For the first time, we went to an outdoors store and bought lightweight clothing which would dry easily.

Our toilet bag contains only toothbrushes, toothpaste and anti-perspirant.  Instead of sunglasses, we have filters that clip onto our specs. We have downloaded our reading books to our phones.

My only luxury is a tiny watercolour pad and paintbox.

Pascoe, who undertakes v. challenging expeditions felt we still were not taking it all seriously enough – we should saw the handles off our toothbrushes to shed a gram or two.

I had a flashback to a long walk in the Lake District when Pascoe was just a little boy.  He was weeping with tiredness, which was not like him.  To help, I took his rucksack from him.  It was unexpectedly heavy.  On investigation, it appeared that at some point he had put a full-size brick in there, and had forgotten to take it out again.

Oh how times have changed!