Landscape Painter, Life Writer, occasional Nomad in perpetual pursuit of a dream
Campbell’s office was a tiny, wooden shed with one window, near the mouth of the river. Inside was a metal filing tray atop a wooden table and two chairs; Campbell was slouched into one of them, his legs on the table, arms folded behind his head. His eyes snapped open as we entered the room; …
No permanent address, no budget for hotels, needing somewhere quiet, warm and dry to lay your bags (and your head) while you catch up with mountains of neglected admin? Most importantly, desperate for feline company, but can’t think about adopting because you are constantly on the move, with no immediate plan to settle down anywhere? …
Ask anyone – a local, a visitor or a good old search engine – to name the main sights around the small town of Tafraoute, which nestles among the Anti-Atlas Mountains of southern Morocco, and they will come up with a list such as this: Le Chapeau de Napoleon (Napoleon’s Hat): A distinctive rock formation …
‘Why don’t I add my £120,000 to your £80,000?’ suggested the man on the platform. ‘Then we could get something better.’ We? I don’t remember an introduction, as he strolled across to where I stood at the foot of the escalator, leaning on the wall where it opened onto the dark, uninviting railway platform at …
‘He’d do anything for you, wouldn’t he?’ she said, and I supposed it was true. You’d do anything for anyone, I thought. I tried not to take advantage of your helpfulness, but you never seemed to mind. You’d water my plants (including the imitation ones); you’d take in my mail and empty my buckets when …
This time, I had to plan carefully. I wanted it to be perfect: clear skies, preferably with some sunshine – to make everything look prettier – but not too hot for sweating up the hills, and requiring twice as much water to carry. My bag needed to be a lot lighter, too. Then there was …
Day 6: Saturday, July 27th ‘That’ll be a long last day,’ Helen insisted, when I told her I’d be coming from Grassington, instead of the usual Burnsall or Appletreewick. ‘You’ll be tired.’ I hadn’t appreciated, then, that I’d be tired every day, and that the extra three miles would, indeed, make a mountain of difference. …
Day 5: Friday July 26th The five Germans at breakfast were going all the way to Cowgill. Admittedly, they would save one and a half miles by not staying at the Station Inn in Ribblehead, but that’s still an extra two miles or more than I had been intending to do. Everyone I encountered during …
Day 4: Thursday, July 25th 2024 I woke up to the sound of something gently dripping. I hadn’t left a tap running, so it could only mean one thing. I pulled the curtains aside but there was nothing to see – I mean, there was nothing to see. Even the raindrops disappeared into the mist; …
Day 3: Wednesday, July 24th 2024 Finding affordable single accommodation along the Dales Way was a significant challenge, and one I had to rise to well in advance. Gone are the days, sadly, when one could study the weather, pack a bag and hasten out the door at the last minute, stopping when tired and …
Day 2: Tuesday, July 23rd 2024 Today, I’d been told, was the toughest day. But that’s if it’s your penultimate, I kept telling myself. It’s only my second. I’d be full of energy and determination. I didn’t sleep too well. Consciously or not, I was concerned about my clearly absent way-finding skills, and adding miles …
Don’t ask me how, but a year – more than a year! – has passed since I set out to walk the Dales Way, shortly after I left Scotland. It was something I had wanted to do for a very long time, and one of the most pressing achievements of last summer. If only the …