I have been on an extended lock-down for about three years now. After the Covid lock-down , my wife started to develop symptoms of early-onset Dementia, which are now quite severe. So I have been looking after her 24/7, unable to leave her alone in the house save for the odd dash to the supermarket..

I think about what I most miss. It’s not travel, or restaurants or or going shopping, or going to the cinema.

It’s walking.

For me it started when I was a young boy in 1950’s Brazil. We lived in a house north of Salvador that was on an empty beach,. I would go for long walks up the coast to the nearest fishing village. Almost all my life seemed to be outdoors. I often chose to sleep in a hammock out on the verandah rather than in my bedroom. This was before air conditioning and I remember getting quite used to being bitten by mosquitos. To this day I seem to be immune to them.

Boarding school in England was based on naval disciplines, the headmaster having been a captain in the Royal Navy during the Second World War. Cross-country running every morning, except Sunday, before breakfast. Sports every day no matter what the weather. No central heating in the dormitories. I remember waking up in the mornings of the 1963 winter to find my bedside glass of water frozen over.

Fast forward to my early 20’s. I lived in the Sultanate of Oman and would go for long walks in the desert or go for camping trips with friends.

Into my mid 20’s - Back in England, it was woodcraft. Spending the night wild camping in a wood in Hertfordshire, learning how to make fires with flint and steel, cooking, building shelters and so on. Kit was from the army surplus store, always heavy. This was before Goretex or light-weight rucksacks.

There was a survivalist edge to what my friends and I did. That led to survival training, at first in the Welsh Brecon Beacons, then the Lake District and then to Norwegian winters.

A few of us joined the Territorial Army - again a good deal of walking, running and living out of ‘bashas’.

Travelling with a dog team, Norway. 1983

Then in the mid 1980’s I learned how to rock climb, intially at Plas-y-Brenin. I did a Basic Rock course, then an Intermediate Rock Course, then Summer Mountain Leader Training, followed by Scottish Winter Mountaineering. I climbed in Scotland, Norway and the French Alps. I also did some technical training in snow-holing, orienteering, ‘escaping a belay’. and rope methods.

In the 1980’s I walked the Coast-to-Coast, the Cambrian Way and the West Highlands Way. These were early days when very few people did these walks. Navigation was often a problem, particularly when the odd farmer wanted to be difficult. I remember being confronted by a farmer on Anglesey with a shotgun.

The Cambrian Way was walked in the winter and we had planned to sleep or at least eat in inns and pubs on the way. We didn’t know that they would all be shut for the winter. So we went hungry and slept out in bivvi bags. Obviously this was before the internet, so information was hard to come by.

I XC-skied in Jotunheiman and twice across the Rondane in Norway. XC skiing was to become my favourite pastime.

When I met my wife, we became walking and cycling partners too. We cycled from Bordeaux to Barcelona over the Pyrenees., taking 10 days.

My wife - take on the Cleveland Way, 1988. We slept under a tarp - you can see how rudimentary the kit used to be by looking at the sleeping mats. The bivvi bags were not goretex. My rucksack was an 80 litre Lowe. I remember it was too long for me. I still have it.

I have shared my love of the outdoors with both of my children. XC-Skiing and walking with my daughter and fly-fishing for wild trout with my son.

Gower Peninsula, walking with my daughter, 2020.

And finally, where possible, my dogs have helped or hindered me in one way or another.

A self-indulgent post, I feel. But I have come to realise how important walking is to mental health. I have always thought that, but thinking something’s being the case and feeling something’s being the case are two different things. Being denied a freedom to roam has affected my health to the extent that I have had to act. Last week I started to pay for carers to help look after my beloved wife. It was a difficult decision for me, being so independent.

And so, I am looking forward to having the freedom to roam again. But I will roam differently than those in past times. I will savour every moment no matter how challenging those moments are.

Walking my way to health