eleutheria

John Hillaby - Journey through Britain

John Hillaby's Journey through Britain, I recommend. "It is a beauty" (to quote Maurice Wiggin - Bookman)

Hillaby gets through the country at a stunning pace - the book reads very quickly indeed. Not really believing the walk from Lands End to St Ives could be done in a day, we walked to St Ives, from home, the other day (over land, avoiding the coastal path which wasn't so established 30 years ago, when the book was written), and realised it was possible, and a very pleasant walk. Our house is about half way along, and we walked the other way (to Lands End), a few days later. Over land, and avoiding main roads, this was not such fun. Like John Hillaby, I hate going back on myself, and won't retrace my footsteps unless absolutely necessary. As now seems inevitable on all new walks, to reach the destination where we lost the way, we walked through boggy paths and fields, climbing though trees in overgrown woods, over barbed wire and electric fences, and waist high in bracken, nettles and brambles. Leaving Sennen in the evening, we lost the path on the moor, but thankfully not my sense of direction, and finally got home around 12 midnight! Hillaby himself ended up stepping into waist high bog in the misty Dartmoor! Terrifying to all those of us who know practically anything is better than turning back, and could therefore (theoretically at least) be in this position ourselves.

"The fact that I went on is less foolhardy than it sounds. I tended to sink in if I stood still"

later in Scotland, more danger:

"Unwilling to go back, I struck inland, following a stream that took me up to the roof of the brae. How I got down by wading through a bog on the other side is painful even to recall.... And there was nothing ahead I could recognize. I had the feeling that I had strayed into an entirely unmapped, unknown corner of Inverness-shire."

I read the last 2 chapters with my toes tingling absolutely achingly, at the thought of him walking on with his "lost toe-nails"! (This is a familiar feeling to me. When B & V came to visit, we had a conversation about where you feel terror in your body [eg, if you are climbing rocks and lose your grip but don't fall]. I said I felt it in my feet, flooding upwards, and B said his father felt it in his groin, I think. B, where was your equiv? The feet isn't such a good place to feel these aches of fear, and confusion. It makes it difficult to keep your footing too. Thanks for your visit, by the way. We had a lovely time!)

Hillaby highlights something else that I have frequently observed; in a open space with plenty of places to chose from, people will often chose to camp (park, sit, etc, etc) right beside you, in the solitary spot you have chosen for yourself. He does this very funnily:

"Late that night, I got within five miles of Inchnadamph and looked for somewhere to sleep. A hillock beside a stream seemed pleasant enough, but the sight of one man putting up a tent drew first one caravan and then two more off the road. I had started yet another colony.

Unfortunately, I had chosen a very bad site. It hummed, not only with mosquitoes, but black-flies, a little needle-point-sized creature said to be responsible for the Highland fling. Hoping that the caravanners wouldn't think it downright unsociability on my part, I packed up and went higher up the braeside. They watched me go. I turned around and waved my hands, violently, trying to give the impression that I was swotting at flies, but at that distance it probably looked like an abusive gesture."

He has written 2 other books: Journey through Europe, and Journey to the Jade Sea.