“I believe you need to create a system that prioritises women at every stage, which means not just the design but the business model and company structure itself.”

That’s one of the changes Veronica ‘Ronnie’ Legg thinks needs to happen in the outdoor gear industry to switch the focus of design from men to being more inclusive of women.

Ronnie’s the founder of Vertura, an outdoor clothing brand with gear designed by women, for women. We met at the National Outdoor Expo in 2025 thanks to Rebecca Dawson who tipped me off that there was someone at the show taking a female-first approach to designing outdoor gear for women. Having struggled for years with finding technical gear that fits right and feels great, I headed to the Vertura stand where Ronnie told me a bit about how and why she launched her own brand.

Ronnie’s had an impressive design career. She spent 5 years as a garment designer for Rab before moving to Alpkit where she worked for almost 10 years – starting as a senior designer and moving up the ladder to become the brand’s Head of Clothing Design.

Having held a high position with an outdoor brand I was intrigued by why she’d launched her own clothing brand specifically for women, so I got in touch to ask her about it. I feel I’ve learned so much from our chat and I hope you enjoy it, and feel as inspired by Ronnie’s story, as I do.

Hi Ronnie, please tell our readers about yourself

I was always into the outdoors as a kid, and dabbled in a lot of activities through Scouts and then university. I did everything from sailing to kayaking, hiking to caving – but the one that stuck was climbing. I was pretty academic and enjoyed science at school, but I also loved textiles (although I didn’t feel like I had much of an artistic side). And although I was kind of rubbish at PE, I loved being active and understanding how the body worked – which is what led me to study Sports Science at university. Luckily there was a degree course at Leeds that had an outdoor activities focus, and allowed you to choose modules in textiles and design as they related to clothing and equipment. I found I was most interested in human physiology in extreme environments, and how textiles plays a part in enabling people to survive and perform in those environments.

I would have gone straight on to do a Masters in Sportswear Design, but sadly the course stopped running the year I graduated – so instead I took a job living and working at Plas Y Brenin (the National Mountain Centre). That allowed me to get lot of my outdoor qualifications, and discover what it was like to work as an instructor but ultimately I realised it wasn’t the job for me. I love being outdoors and introducing people to your passion is very rewarding, but the stress of being responsible for other people’s safety day-in, day-out and meeting a new group every couple of hours I found exhausting. North Wales was a fantastic place to live and play though, I made friends for life there and it’s still my favourite place to go rock climbing.

After getting a basic grounding in textiles during my undergraduate degree, I eventually found a Masters course in Clothing Product Development. That touched on aspects of design, fit and sizing, marketing and business – but honestly so much of what I know was learnt on the job itself, and out on the hill using clothing and observing others. It’s a hugely broad vocation, and involves more science, maths, spreadsheets and email than drawing – which often surprises people!

The Masters course led to a job at Rab where I worked for 5 years in the design team before moving on to Alpkit. I spent almost a decade there developing the entire clothing range from what was originally one down jacket and some t-shirts, to a full range covering everything from hiking to biking and even swimming.

What came first – climbing or designing clothing for climbers?

I fell in love with climbing the first time I got on a climbing wall and then those first moments outside on Southern Sandstone. I was totally hooked, but the great thing about it as an activity is how broad it is. I’ve progressed from trad rock climbing outdoors, to winter in Scotland and Canada, then on to bigger mountains in the Alps, the Andes and the Himalayas over the last 20+ years. I have always been obsessed with the clothing and gear involved, spending hours poring over Field and Trek catalogues as a kid, but the design side took a while for me to discover. Not identifying as a naturally creative or artistic person (I can’t draw!) meant I didn’t see Design as an obvious career path. I considered becoming an outdoor instructor, and did that for a little while, but the more I learnt the more I realised that designing outdoor gear was as much a science as it was an art – and it was something I could do.

You’ve been designing outdoor clothing for over 15 years. Can you tell me about the most challenging, unusual and fun things you’ve worked on?

The most challenging thing to design from a technical perspective was one of the last pieces I worked on at Rab, which was a waterproof down jacket using a bonded baffle construction to reduce weight and eliminate excess fabric. It was a new way of making something so it took a lot of figuring out compatibility between different materials, the order of make and the impact it had on production processes – all of which had to be communicated to the factory responsible for making it. I’m pleased to say it worked and the product is still in the range today, while the construction technique has been applied to more and more styles.

The most unusual – or rather, the thing I never expected to be designing, was swimwear. It’s quite different to a lot of outdoor design, as you’re intentionally going to get wet in it! And it’s basically underwear, so it comes with a different set of challenges.

It’s hard to pick what was the most fun, as I enjoy the variety of different types of products I’ve worked on over the years (and there have been so many!).

When did you first notice a problem with outdoor gear aimed at women? And what were your frustrations?

It was apparent to me from the start that the choice of options for women was much more limited than it was for men. In my early years hiking with Scouts I was wearing men’s clothing; army surplus trousers that would fall down, a men’s Helly Hansen baselayer and my brother’s waterproof jacket. That worked ok (although everything was a bit big!) until I hit puberty and started getting curves. Then I realised I needed women’s fitted styles, but half of the things I wanted only came in men’s – or they had less features, or were less practical in some way. It has got better over the years, but there is still a disparity of choice when you look at the more technical options.

With so many women not just getting outdoors, but leading the way these days, why is it still so hard for us to find gear that works for us?

The thing that people don’t realise is how much of the industry is dictated by men. They are the gate keepers and decision makers at the top of the vast majority of companies; middle management may have more women involved, but there are very few companies with more than a handful of women at Director level or above. That matters, not because those men don’t care what women think, but because they are blind to their own biases. It’s been proven in extensive research that companies with more diverse leadership teams (and that can be in age, gender, sexual orientation or race) are more innovative and more successful in the long run, because they are better at problem solving.

The issue has always been that women’s styles sell fewer than men’s, and are therefore seen as less commercial. But that’s because they’ve been created in a business structure designed for and by men, which impacts the product range and marketing output. Lack of diversity means this ‘problem’ isn’t seen as an opportunity to really listen to what women want and respond to that through product and marketing, but is reduced to looking at the bottom line of figures on a spreadsheet. It is possible to avoid these pitfalls but I believe you need to create a system that prioritises women at every stage, which means not just the design but the business model and company structure itself.

Designing a product is the easy bit: getting permission to design it is the first barrier, and then actually getting it made is the next. There are many more along the way which might prevent that product ever reaching the woman who would really appreciate it. Most of those barriers are gates which have to be held open by men for you to get anywhere. I got sick of there always being another gate to push through, so I decided to take another approach and try and build a business that has engineered out as many of those barriers as possible from the get-go.

What other things contribute to the male-centric design focus, such as the training, research or a lack of female champions within the industry itself?

There is very little academic ‘training’ in outdoor gear design available. Some people come from fashion design which is often streamed into menswear or womenswear, but not from a functional perspective – it’s more style and convention based, which then bleeds through into outdoor design. That’s not to say that’s always a bad thing, but sometimes it can lead to compromises in functionality.

The male-centric bias issue is more insidious than that (if you haven’t read it, Invisible Women by Caroline Crialdo Perez explains how the gap in data has led to a world designed in a way that disadvantages women at every turn).

It’s vital that we start from women’s needs, using data that is taken from female populations, and applying it to the problems that real women face in the outdoors. So rather than saying ‘make a waterproof trouser in women’s sizing for walking that costs £X, that we can sell at least 500 of – oh and it has to be in black because it needs to use the same fabric as the men’s version’, starting from first principles and making what women want and need (not what men think will sell to women because they have no other choice!).

We also need to challenge the idea that ‘not enough women do that’ is a valid reason to not serve those women. We might be a smaller slice of the market, but it is growing and the more women discover the outdoors, and are comfortable in their outdoor clothing, the more role models that creates and that has an upward spiral effect.

How important is it to use the right gear for the activity you’re doing, including the way it fits and feels?

My stint working at Plas Y Brenin and as a leader on expedition to Svalbard definitely hammered home the need for durability in clothing that you rely on for your safety.

The difference between ill-fitting or poorly performing clothing, and the right fit and functionality can be as severe as life or death in extreme cases. It’s entirely possible to catch your crampon on excess material around the ankle of your trousers and end up in a crumpled heap at the bottom of a slope. It might seem innocuous, but in high consequence situations these little things can make a huge difference. Or take the thermal insulating properties of a jacket that someone relies on to keep them from getting hypothermia; fit affects how much warm air is trapped, and could make the difference between an uncomfortable experience and ending up in hospital.

At a less extreme level is simply the fact that if you are more comfortable you have more fun! That’s really important when people are first starting out in the outdoors, because if they have a good experience and enjoy themselves they are likely to do it again. If they have a miserable time because they got cold and wet, or because they felt self-conscious in the trousers that don’t fit their body shape, then they are less likely to want to repeat the experience. It can literally make the difference between someone developing a life-long healthy habit of exercising outdoors, or never wanting to leave a city again.

What gear needs are unique to women and where are the mistakes most outdoor brands make with this?

Fit is a huge part of this. Women are so much more varied in shape (particularly with hip to waist ratios) that we need more options to choose from (not less!). Making the same model of trousers in several different fit options (not just sizes) is one thing that is often overlooked. It’s not easy for small brands, but the bigger ones could be doing this and a lot aren’t. Building adaptability into clothing using stretch and elastic can also help as many women experience fluctuations in our weight and shape over the course of a month (and the years!).

The second biggest issue is clothing that facilitates going to the toilet outdoors, particularly when it comes to layers in winter. It’s seen as a bit taboo, or just not really thought through properly at the design stage, or it ‘costs too much’ to solve – when it’s a problem every single woman has every time they go out for a long day.

Third is pocket placement and functionality. Our shape affects what works, what is comfortable and what is accessible – and it is different according to our different shapes. Again, this often isn’t well considered, or deemed too difficult to solve or not important to women so the pocket gets left off entirely!

What advice can you give women when it comes to choosing gear in terms of function and fit?

You have to feel comfortable. That means physically and psychologically. If you don’t feel confident in what you are wearing, it can impact your mood and that affects your enjoyment. If you find leggings comfortable and you like wearing them, go for it. But if you prefer not to be so on show, choose legwear that fits you well and won’t ride down during the course of the day or rub under a rucksack. Just make sure you’re choosing fabrics that are appropriate – avoid cotton as it holds onto moisture and gets really cold when damp.

Choose clothing that will protect you from the weather and keep you comfortable, whether that’s a waterproof to keep the rain out, or enough layers to keep you warm (and that you can take off to cool yourself down). Consider how all your layers work together: do they fit over the top of each other in the order you want to wear them? Can you ventilate to cool down without swapping out layers?

Check key areas for places that interact with your rucksack if you are carrying one, so avoid seams or fastenings that might rub under your hip belt or shoulder straps.

Think about how you like to organise things: are you a person who wants their phone handy in a pocket at all times? If so, make sure the layers you wear allow for that. Do you really keep a folded map in your jacket pocket, or wear a helmet under your waterproof? Look for features that serve your needs, not just because a (male) magazine reviewer said you need them.

Remember you are an individual, and what works for you might not work for someone else. So experiment and find what works for you – and have fun doing it!

I’ve noticed how some outdoor brands lean more towards the style, fashion or look of their clothing and it feels like the technical aspects are secondary. How important is style and fashion when it comes to outdoor gear?

Many people like to think they aren’t influenced by style or fashion, but if you take a look at yourself or a catalogue from 20 years ago you will see that’s not the case. Outdoor clothing design does evolve alongside fashion trends, although there’s usually a lag of several years. (Trouser fit is a good example – skinny jeans influenced how tight fitting outdoor legwear became popular in the 2010’s, and it is heading back the other way now that wide leg cuts have come back into fashion).

What is important is that function is considered where it is the primary concern: baggy wide leg trousers might be great for functional movement while bouldering, but would be inappropriate for mountaineering trousers. One aspect of fashion that doesn’t have too much negative impact on function is colour, although it could be argued having a bright visible colour jacket is safer if you get into trouble compared to a black or beige jacket.

The current Gorpcore / Athleisure trends are almost working the other way round, with outdoor influencing fashion. That’s no bad thing: with more younger people getting into the outdoors, it’s important that they are prepared for the weather, so better that they are wearing clothing that has a chance of protecting them from the elements. Although don’t get me started on the cropped waterproof or down jacket styles out there…!

There are loads of outdoor influencers, often ambassadors of clothing and gear brands. Who do you think is missing from the story when it comes to gear specifically designed for women?

It is slowly getting better, but there has been too much of a focus on women who are young, white and conventionally attractive. We need more diversity across the board – not just one type of woman, but women of different ages, sizes and shapes, race and background that reflect real people in the outdoors.

As a designer your work is both technical and creative. How do your own outdoor adventures, like climbing or walking, play a role in the creative aspect of your design work?

I’m always thinking about design, especially if I’m out walking or climbing. It can be a creative inspiration like the colours, textures or patterns I see out in nature, or a more technical issue around temperature regulation or zip placement. I’m always looking at what people are wearing, talking to the people I’m out with and storing up a bank of ideas for later. I find being active outdoors can also unlock a problem that I’ve been struggling with, by helping me think differently (or by letting my subconscious work on it while I figure out the next move).

What’s your walking style?

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

Wild Weekender.

Headphones or head in the clouds?

Mostly head in the clouds, unless I’m doing a repetitive training hike somewhere I’ve been loads of times before – in which case I need a podcast to distract me from clock watching or the sound of my own breathing.

What’s the most memorable walk you’ve ever done?

This is a hard one, as there have been so many. I’d probably have to say the approach to Ama Dablam up the Khumbu valley above Namche Bazaar. It’s such a spectacular region, and obviously because it’s on the route to Everest Basecamp it’s a trail that has so much meaning to so many people. It’s so varied too, from the dusty trail to the Rhododendron forests, to the pray flags and suspensions bridges, the temple gongs and juniper bush fires, and the views of countless summits over 6000m high. It’s somewhere I’d recommend anyone went at least once, even if you’re not a climber.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

Julie Tullis – she died on K2 in 1986 but it was her book Clouds from Both Sides that inspired me to get into mountaineering, and her son was the first person to take me rock climbing outdoors.

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk?
  Snacks

• One word to describe how you feel about design?
  Excited

• One word to describe how it felt to launch Vertura?
  Liberating

Finally, please can you share a walking- or climbing-inspired reflection for our readers?

You are always capable of more than you think.

Ronnie, this has been so inspiring. Thanks for talking so openly and generously about Vertura and your passion for climbing and the outdoors.

If you’d like to see Ronnie’s range of thermal legwear and accessories (the wrist warmers are fab!), visit the Vertura website, follow on Instagram or head to the National Outdoor Expo on 21-22 March where she’ll have a stand.

Happy walking and writing until next time.

Sarah and Ronnie

More from The Writer’s Walk

If you enjoyed reading Ronnie’s story, take a look at my interview with Rebecca Dawson, founder of Vampire Outdoors, former Chair of Trustees at the Ramblers, and plus size outdoor gear champion who’s helping every body get outdoors.

These words are from Vikki Ross: writer, walker and relentless champion of copywriting and copywriters. It probably shouldn’t have surprised me that she can’t pin down her fave bit of copy. Vikki’s been writing for major brands for more than 25 years, helping them find their tone of voice and bring their words to life.

She’s a vital voice in the copywriting industry – regularly sharing knowledge and jobs through her LinkedIn posts, giving talks, mentoring writers, and shouting non-stop about the value good writing – and good writers – bring to brands.

In 2012 she started #CopywritersUnite, the hashtag that’s connecting copywriters and copy lovers all around the world, both online, and in person through CopywritersUnite nights and lites – informal drinks with no tickets, no speakers and no agenda. Just a chance for people to connect and chat.

Vikki and I met ten years ago when I went to my first #CopywritersUnite night in London, which she was hosting. I’ve always admired how she celebrates copywriting and copywriters. In a competitive creative industry this is rare a gift. So I was truly honoured when she agreed to meet me for a #CopySafari in Shoreditch – one of the best places in London to see advertising in the wild. As we wandered, we talked about the ads we spotted and some of the brands she’s written for (get ready for some name drops). We hope you enjoy reading our interview.

Hi Vikki, please tell me about yourself in your own way: who, what, where

I’m Vikki, I’m a copywriter and I’m coming to you live from London.

You didn’t start out as a copywriter – how did you get your first writing gig and what was it?

I was an admin assistant at a tiny direct marketing agency. Their Creative Director wrote reader offers in the national press. One day, I asked if I could write one – it performed well so I got to write more.

What was the first thing you wrote for TV or a billboard?

I think the first thing I wrote for TV was a voiceover script for a Sky Cinema ad. And the first thing I wrote for a billboard was for four billboards – Sky was promoting its newly rebranded TV channels, Sky One, Sky Arts and Sky Living, and introducing a new one, Sky Atlantic – I’d written the tagline (that was the headline) for each brand.

How did it feel seeing your words in the wild for the first time?

Oh, it’s so exciting. Not just for the first time but every time.

What’s your favourite bit of copy that you’ve written?

I can’t choose a favourite bit of copy – what would all my other bits of copy think?

I’ll give you a recent favourite…

Last year, I created a new voice for Range Rover, Defender, Discovery and Jaguar. The brief was to create a clear distinction between each vehicle brand as they’d started to sound the same.

Now, Range Rover is the sophisticated one and says things like ‘Seasoned traveller’ to describe itself and its driver. Defender is the active one and says things like ‘Cliffhanger’ to show off its capabilities on tough terrain. Discovery is the one for adventures with family and friends and says things like ‘For you and your plus one. And your plus one, plus one, plus one, plus one, plus one.’ to talk about how much space it has. And Jaguar is the creative one so there’s a lot of wordplay like ‘Light up the dark’ to talk about its presence on the road.

What’s your favourite bit of copy that you wish you’d written?

I can’t choose a favourite bit of copy – what would all the other bits of copy think?

I’ll give you a recent favourite…

LEGO launched a campaign a couple of years ago with the tagline, ‘Rebuild the world’. I love how, all at once, it talks to and about the state of the world, it includes a word that connects straight back to the brand (‘build’), and it’s a call to action. All that in just three words – things in threes, like statements and slogans, are scientifically proven to make messaging more memorable.

Any #CopyFails that you want to admit to?

Oh yeah, here’s a recent one. There’s a billboard on tube platforms with a line on it I shouldn’t have written. I included it in a list of recommendations because I knew the client would like it, but I hoped they’d like the others more. And now it’s all over London annoying me every time I see it.

And not a #CopyFail but a copy-related fail that I really need to tell someone about – not that anyone can make me feel better about it. I recently wrote an email to Barbara Nokes – you know, the British copywriting legend. After I sent it, I saw it – the typo in the subject line. I couldn’t believe it.

You’re the (often hidden) voice behind many brands. Who would you love to write for but haven’t yet?

Netflix. But Netflix in 2018 when they really nailed their voice.

Apple. I’d love to encourage them to bring back their enviable style. It inspired us to think different and write better.

Tiffany & Co. Their storytelling could be so much more compelling.

Can you tell me about #CopySafari? How did it start? How do you turn what you see on billboards into inspiration for your own work?

I’ve never thought that just looking at stuff on screens at our desks or in meeting rooms was a good enough exercise for reviewing work that needs to work in the wild. We need to know how people act around ads and in-store promos and notice how they react to them. So in 2018, I started taking industry friends out and about to see stuff in situ. As it’s intended.

A #CopySafari informs the techniques I use in my work more than inspires it. While people will read for as long as they’re interested, a billboard isn’t always the place for long copy. Or tiny text – I’m looking at you, Audi. Their copy is consistently good, but drivers can’t read it from their car.

Any tips for people who want to try a #CopySafari of their own? Best places to hunt down words, what to look for, and so on?

Look up and around. Words are everywhere. When you see them, think about where they are, what they’re saying, how they’re saying it and who they’re talking to.

I take brands and agencies out and about to think about all that – they book a #CopySafari as an alternative to a workshop or as part of a team or company away day. It’s a great opportunity to think differently – and to walk and talk.

What’s your walking style – or choose your own if none of these float your boat

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

Wondering Wanderer.

Headphones or head in the clouds?

Both. Either.

If I’m wearing headphones, I’m listening to a podcast.

What’s the most memorable walk you’ve ever done?

You might’ve noticed from my answers to your earlier questions that I really don’t like picking favourites!

I live in London, and I love London – so much, but I love a walk along a beach. Nothing beats seeing the sea.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

Bernice Fitz-Gibbon.

I read her book, Macy’s, Gimbels, and Me, and thought she sounded so fabulous and fun. I would’ve loved to have known her, and worked for her.

Read more about her and other legendary copywriters on this LinkedIn post.

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk?
  Phone
  (I need it to make notes – ideas always come to me when I’m out and about)

• One word to describe how you feel about writing?
  Lucky

  (I still can’t believe I get to write all day for work)

• One word to describe #CopywritersUnite?
  Connection

  (We’re all over the world but the hashtag connects us all)

I know, I know, I cheated and added sentences to my one-word answers. But hey, no one ever told me off for challenging a brief.

Last question: please can you share a walking-inspired writing prompt for our readers?

When I get a brief, I read and research all I can about the brand, their product and their audience. Then I go out for a walk. The idea, the line or even just the word will come to me when I’m not looking for it. So my prompt is to feed your mind then trust it to do the work for you.

Thanks so much for taking me on a #CopySafari Vikki, for sharing some of the thinking behind the work you’ve done for brands like Range Rover, Defender, Discovery and Jaguar, and for everything you do to support and encourage copywriters.

You can follow Vikki on LinkedIn, find out more about #CopywritersUnite, and if you fancy hosting one for copywriters in your city, Vikki’s shared how to do that in this post.

And if you’d like to know more about #CopySafari you can read about it on her LinkedIn post, and if you work for a brand or creative agency and want to book her to take you and your team out, you can email her at vikkirosswrites@mail.com

Happy walking and writing until next time.

Sarah and Vikki

These words are from Olivia Sprinkel – a nature writer, photographer, sustainability consultant and nature connection guide whose work is focused on the natural world and our connection to it. And she shares some of her experiences of connecting with nature in her book, To Hear The Trees Speak. It’s a beautiful account of the lessons she learned from listening to ten trees on five continents.

Olivia took the time to share one of her local walks in the South Downs with me, where she introduced me to the tenth tree from her book, a grand old beech tree that lives in a small wooded area outside of Lewes. As we walked, we enjoyed the views, met some four-legged locals, and talked about nature and the importance of listening to it. We hope you enjoy reading our interview.

Hi Olivia, please tell us a bit about yourself: where you live, your work in sustainability and how you got there.

Hello! I live in Lewes, East Sussex, on the South Downs. Alongside my writing, I am a sustainability strategy and communications consultant. I’ve been working in sustainability since 2008 – when it was not yet called sustainability! Before then, I’d been working in employee engagement and my first sustainability role was on engaging employees with climate change.

To Hear The Trees Speak, is a personal account of your journey around the world to meet ten trees so you could listen to, and learn from, them. What inspired you to travel around the world to meet ten trees?

The book was the result of hearing a call from the trees. I was working in New York at the time. One June morning in 2018, I read a headline in a newsletter about how the baobab trees in Africa were dying because of climate change. I had lived in Malawi for a year when I was 17-18 years old. I knew the baobab trees, these giant trees that are designed to withstand times of drought. It filled my heart with grief that they were dying. If these trees that had lived so long were dying, it really brought home to me the impact of climate change on the natural world. It made me wonder what collectively we were doing, and what was I doing?

I thought about the trees all day and that evening when I went home to my apartment, I pulled a new notebook from a shelf. I wrote down the original working title of the book, ‘A History of the Future in 10 Trees’. I noted down some of the trees that I wanted to visit and learn from, before it was too late. It felt like such a clear call from the trees, that this was something that I needed to do, it was a now or never moment. I was in a position where I wasn’t in a relationship, I didn’t have dependants. I could give up my job and go to travel to the trees.

The trees you visited each have a specific story or significance, with some being quite famous. How did you choose the ones you met?

There was a mix of reasons. I chose some of the trees as they had a particular history. For example the Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi tree in Sri Lanka is the oldest tree recorded to have been planted by humans, over 2000 years ago. I thought that a tree with such a long relationship with humans would be one to learn from. The Vernon Oak in Sheffield was one of the trees saved by the tree protectors when the city had targeted 17,500 trees to be cut down. I wanted to include an urban tree because of the importance of trees in our cities. Others were not specific trees, but species of trees, some of which had a personal significance to me, such as the birch tree in Finland, where my mother is from. The giant sequoias are trees which are being affected by the intensification of wildfires caused by climate change. And some of the trees chose me, such as the olive tree in the south in France and the beech tree outside Lewes, which became my lockdown tree.

When you visited the Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi tree you were unable to see it properly or touch it because it’s protected by a wall. How did it feel to visit a tree and not be able to connect with it physically?

It was the tree that I felt least connected with, probably because of this physical separation. The tree is a sacred pilgrimage site for Buddhists and I also experienced feeling that the prayers that people were offering there were not part of my tradition – and the feeling of lack in not having my own tradition. But then visiting the Botanical Gardens in Kandy, I realised that this is my temple, that the trees can be sacred to me, wherever I am.

In Ecuador’s Amazon you used a microphone to listen to the trees. How did it feel the first time you heard water running up the roots and into the tree?

It was such an amazing feeling, full of awe and wonder. Rationally, we know that water is transported from roots up the trunk of the tree, but to actually hear it was ‘wow’. It was even more special, as we had tried listening to a number of different trees without success. Then I had a moment of intuition to try this particular tree, and when it worked, it was a Eureka moment.

Did you practice walking meditation during your time with the trees? If so, what did you gain from that practice?

I didn’t consciously label it as walking meditation, but I definitely practiced mindful walking. That was a key part of my practice – walking slowly and using all my senses. I heard the walking artist Hamish Fulton speak recently, and he said that ‘Walking is the best way I know to be influenced by nature’, and I would agree with that. Walking mindfully connects us physically with the earth and opens us up to the world.

What’s the most significant thing you learned from your time with the trees?

The importance of slowing down and paying attention to trees and the natural world. Trees and plants have so much to teach us if only we take time to listen. And it is our separation from nature which is the root cause of climate change, and there is an urgent need to heal this separation.

Did you always intend to write a book about this experience or did the idea form later?

The idea to visit the trees came as the idea for a book. I wanted to tell a different story about climate change, one which put trees at the centre of the story. As I began to write the book, I realised that I needed to tell the story of my journey to the trees, and therefore needed to include some of my background as well. I think this helps it to stand out from other books about trees – readers have told me that it was the personal story that provided a strong narrative thread, and that while they wouldn’t have read a book of tree facts, they enjoyed learning about the trees through my journey.

You quote the storyteller, Martin Shaw, (p29) who says “We don’t need new stories, we need to go back to the old ones.” If our readers were in search of an old story – a folklore – to connect with, which one would you recommend?

It’s difficult to pick out just one as there are so many! If this is something that interests readers, I would recommend the books of Martin Shaw or Sharon Blackie as a starting point. And going to hear a storyteller if possible – there is something about hearing a story, in community, rather than reading it. There is so much wisdom in the old stories about how to live. One of the recommendations that Martin Shaw makes is to listen out for the image from the story that really resonates with you. It will be different for each of us.

In the book, I mention the Kalevala, which is the Finnish national epic, and it shows how nature was an integral part of the Finnish way of life. The hero says at the end, ‘Nature was my greatest teacher.’ I was lucky enough to attend a session recently hosted by an Indian storyteller, Sowmya Srinivasan. One of the stories was about a girl who could turn into a tree, and it so well illustrated the greed that people show towards the natural world, and the importance of taking care of it.

Other than your own, what’s your favourite book on trees?

The Overstory by Richard Powers is my favourite tree book, and possibly favourite book ever. It is an epic of a novel, spanning human and tree generations, and takes us into a world where the trees are central characters.

What’s your walking style – or invent your own if none of these float your boat!

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

Mindful Moseyer! I definitely enjoy taking my time and stop to take photographs and make notes. I’m also sometimes a Haiku Hiker, writing haiku as I walk!

Headphones or head in the clouds?

I now mostly walk without headphones so that I can pay attention better and listen to the sounds around me, to allow space for processing thoughts or ideas, as well as connect with the land.

What’s the most memorable walk you’ve ever done?

Oh, that’s a difficult question! I walked the first 10 days of the South West Coast path on my own at a difficult time in my life. It is such a beautiful walk, and I was walking in May when all the hawthorns were in blossom. I’d love to do another long distance walk like that. There’s something about being on the road day after day.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

Jane Goodall, in Gombe, Tanzania. I would have loved to see how she related to the land and animals she came to know so well.

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk?
  I have to say my phone! But that’s mainly so I can take photographs. I’ve been taking a picture a day since 1 August 2016 and most of these have been taken whilst walking.

• One word to describe your approach to writing?
  Curiosity

• One word to describe your feelings about trees?
  Love

Last question: please can you share a tree-inspired writing prompt for our readers?

Here’s an invitation for a tree connection walk and write. Next time, you go for a walk, set an intention to connect with a tree. Set out on your walk mindfully, perhaps slower than usual. Let your attention be open and curious towards trees. Let yourself see if there is a particular tree that calls to you. Stop there. Explore the tree with your senses. Touch it (hug it if you like!). Smell it. Observe it, how it moves. Are there any birds, animals or insects there? Sit or stand with the tree for a little while. Observe how the tree is part of where it lives.

From your observations, write a letter or poem to the tree to express praise, and gratitude. As a follow up, you could write a letter from the tree to you – how does the tree see you, what would the tree like you to offer to it and the world.

Thanks so much for the walk ’n’ talk, Olivia. You’ve given me so much to think about in terms of our connection with nature and how we can be more mindful on our walks. And your prompt to write a letter to a tree and then write a letter from the tree back to you is a lovely exercise on reflection.

You can find Olivia on Substack where she writes To Hear The Trees Speak, learn more about her on her website, follow her stories on Instagram where she posts a picture a day, or hire her as a sustainability strategy and comms consultant.

And you should definitely check out her book. To Hear The Trees Speak is a journey into listening. Of listening to the world, of listening to nature and of listening to the trees. But, ultimately, I think it’s about listening to ourselves and to our hearts.

Happy walking and writing until next time.

Sarah and Olivia

More from The Writer’s Walk

If you enjoyed reading about Olivia’s journey into listening try Walking in silence where I explore how to find moments of quiet in a noisy world.

Hello walkers and writers 👋

Long time readers might know that I enjoy going on walking tours and have met some incredible guides in London and learned lots of interesting facts along the way.

One of them is Jonnie Fielding who runs Bowl of Chalk – one of the best London Walking Tours according to Time Out London (and me). I first did a tour with Jonnie in 2024 when he ran a weekend of walks to raise money for London’s Air Ambulance Charity. He led our group around St Paul’s, sharing fun facts and introducing me to what is now my favourite tree in London: the Cheapside plane, which casts its branches over a shop on the corner of Wood Street.

I also discovered that Jonnie’s quite the writer, having written for TV, film and theatre, as well as writing articles for the Londonist and London Calling. Another walking writer?That was something I had to investigate. So I joined him for another walk, this time around Spitalfields and Shoreditch, and asked him if he’d do an interview with me for The Writer’s Walk.

We chatted about exploring London to fall in love with it, growing a business purely through word of mouth, why having no shame is the key to discovering new stuff, and the launch of his new book, Why is Downing Street Painted Black? (and 364 other fun London facts) which comes out on 25 September. We hope you enjoy it.

Hey Jonnie, please introduce yourself

My name is Jonnie Fielding, I’m originally from the Midlands but have lived in London for 25 years, currently residing in south east London with my girlfriend, step daughter and two cats.

I started doing walking tours about 16 years ago after I was asked to leave a job due to a ‘lack of interest and enthusiasm’. I really disliked both London and history, so applying to become a tour guide seemed an obvious next step. I had to learn a lot of info myself and absolutely loved exploring and the more I learned about London, the more I enjoyed living here.

If I have to study something or do something in an official capacity, I have little or no interest in it, but if I can do it on my own terms, then brilliant. I would call myself a ‘curistorian’ (which doesn’t exist as a word …yet) rather than a historian. The tour company I worked for folded after a year or so, so I started my own walking tours. My very first walkees (for the want of a better word) had seen a poster I put up in the window of a bike shop in Old Street. For the first 10 years, it was completely word-of-mouth.

The name of your walking tours is interesting. What gave you the idea?

A lot of walking tour companies in London have the words ‘London’ and ‘Walking Tour’ in them, so I wanted to do something a bit different. Although obviously not a Londoner (or Cockney) I turned to Cockney Rhyming Slang. With a lot of rhyming slang words, there are variations. The most widely known or oldest one for ‘walk’ is ‘Ball of Chalk’. There’s also ‘Bowl of Chalk’ and I think ‘Penneforth of Chalk’. I preferred ‘Bowl of Chalk’ so went with that and have had Cockneys writing to me ever since to tell me it should be ‘Ball of Chalk’.

You share lots of unexpected and fun facts on your tours. How do you dig up all this good stuff?

The first is to be curious. If you’re curious and ask questions you find stuff out. The second is exploring. If you explore and are also curious then you find even more stuff out. If you are curious, explore, ask questions and have no shame, then you find even more stuff out, so on this basis I’d walk in to buildings, shops, knock on doors and ask people ‘What’s that thing on your wall?’ etc. Quite often people don’t know themselves, so it’s added to the list to find out, or sometimes, you get a great nugget of information.

Clearly, books are a great source of information. I have a huge amount of books. Amazingly, many of my books have come from people (who I didn’t know) who are aware of my interest in London and have known someone who has died, and had a similar interest in London, and also had many books that needed a new home. Therefore, I’ve been bequeathed books.

The internet is clearly a great place to find things out, but there’s also much misinformation. However, I have on occasion used Google street view to find little details on buildings or walls from the comfort of my own home.

What’s the most surprising thing you’ve learned about London from walking it?

Perhaps not surprising, but it’s a multi-layered, bottomless pit of intrigue.

I see loads of walking tours around London and sometimes see people stop to listen in on them. Do you ever end up with more people at the end of a walking tour than you started with? If so, do you have a bit of a story to share here?

Very rarely. It’s happened a couple of times, but I usually tell them it’s not very good and should probably do something else. On weekends I do ‘group’ walks which can sometimes have quite a few people, but during the week I do private tours for families, couples and sometimes individuals so to the untrained eye it doesn’t look like a tour, but just a few people wandering around together, which means you don’t get people trying to join.

You like to go on walking tours when you visit other places. Talk about a busman’s holiday! What’s the best walking tour you’ve ever been on as a tourist?

A number of years ago, me and my dad went to Rome for a few days and I found a wonderful guide called Silvia who runs A Friend in Rome and gave us a brilliant tour. As a ‘one man band’ it’s really nice to meet other guides in other places that I can recommend (and vice versa). Another is Mark who runs That Dam Guide in Amsterdam and next month I’m going to Germany to meet Jonny Whitlam who runs tours in Berlin. We’ve actually collaborated on a video that included both London and Berlin but have never met in real life.

Two facts I loved from your tour around St Paul’s relate to plane trees. The first is on Wood Street on the site of a medieval church, St Peter Cheap, which burned down during the Great Fire of London in 1666. Wordsworth wrote about that tree in a poem and I love how it stands out among all the tall buildings. The second is down the road on the site of an even older church, St Mary Staining, which also burned down in the Great Fire of London. It’s been there 100 years, survived WWII and is considered so important that when a new office was being built next to it a condition of the planning permission was that the tree must be given enough room and light to continue growing, so the architects designed a building that curves away from the tree. Anyway, this is a long backstory to give our readers context to my question: If you could protect one natural thing in London to prevent it from being moved, cut back or destroyed, what would it be, and why?

Ooohhhh …good question. I would feel inclined to say The Thames, but as it’s more likely to destroy us, I won’t. In London, we’re incredibly lucky with the amount of green space we have …our parks, gardens, woodlands and of course Hampstead Heath. Compared to other capitals, we’re positively spoiled for green spaces, quite a number of which started out as hunting grounds. One of my own local parks was saved from development by Octavia Hill, who became one of the founders of the National Trust in 1895, and is a wonderful resource for locals …so it’d be those green spaces.

You’ve brought loads of London facts together in your new book Why is Downing Street Painted Black? (and 364 other fun London facts). Please can you give our readers a sneak preview of one of the facts?

Well, if your readers fancy a bit of a walk, then a couple of weeks ago I teamed up with artist Ben Wilson, who features in the book. For over twenty years he’s painted tiny pictures on to bits of chewing gum that people have spat on the floor. That’s the fun fact. Ben has a website and posts pictures of his masticated art on Instagram. One of his favourite spots is the Millennium Bridge and there are so many, my step daughter calls it ’the chewing gum bridge’.

Anyway …Ben and I did a treasure hunt around London, whereby Ben painted on to gum, 5 facts (on 5 bits of gum) that relate to 5 facts from the book. I’m giving away a copy of the book to the first 10 people that can find all five. The clues to find them are on my website.

At the time of writing, 6 people have completed it. Here’s one of them, to give your readers a bit of an idea of what they look like. They’re incredibly detailed and having spent a bit of time with Ben doing this, I think one of my favourite things about it, is the sheer joy it brings to people when they discover what he’s doing. It’s an incredible gift.

What’s your walking style?

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

I guess I need two. As a tour guide I’m leading groups, so therefore I’d be more of an Affable Ambler, but if I’m actually on a walk, then maybe Sunday Stroller would do the trick.

Headphones or head in the clouds?

It’d be neither I’m afraid …It’d be more ‘eyes fixed on the pavement’ or ‘looking up at the tops of buildings’. No headphones.

What’s the most memorable walk you’ve ever done?

Ten years ago I walked the length of the river Thames from the north sea to its source, which took me about 3 weeks. I did it on my own, and absolutely loved it. The Thames flows through 9 counties and is officially 215 miles long, although, as I picked my way through Essex (not a designated route) at the start it was far, far longer. Anyway …I wrote about that, not that anyone has read it, but not only did I learn a great deal enroute about the places I passed through, but it was great for clearing the head and knowing each day that you’ve got to get up and just walk. I could have happily just carried on.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

What a great question. I reckon, Beckie, my childhood dog. That’d be pretty cool.

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk?
  Phone (unfortunately) so if it’s not a phone, it’d be a chicken breast (wrapped in foil)

• One word to describe London?
  Big

• One word to describe how you feel about leading walking tours?
  Nervous

Last question: please can you share a London-inspired writing prompt for our readers?

You’re in central London in anytime period, past, present or future. Choose your favourite …could be Roman, Elizabethan, Georgian, 1940s. Step out of the door. What can you smell? What can you hear? What can see?

Blimey, those are fab answers! Thanks for chatting with me, Jonnie.

If you want to find out more about Jonnie Fielding, you can find his walks on his website, Bowl of Chalk, discover the London facts he shares by following him on Instagram and TikTok or buy his book. And there’s still time to get involved in his treasure hunt for a chance to win a copy of the book by following the clues he and Ben Wilson have popped around London.

Thanks for reading – I’m off now to drop ‘curistorian’ into as many conversations as I can. Happy walking and writing until next time.

Sarah

More from The Writer’s Walk

If you enjoyed this interview, try the edition on Walking with a tour guide.

Hello walkers and writers 👋

There are some people in life who sweep you away with their enthusiasm and joy from the moment you meet them. Emily Ash Powell is one of those people. We met almost ten years ago at a #CopywritersUnite night in London, organised by the fabulous Vikki Ross, and immediately bonded over words, wine and a love of doggos.

Since then, I’ve seen Em go from strength to strength, writing her way up the ladder from junior creative roles to becoming the global head of creative and copy for brands like Tony’s Chocolonely and Bumble. Along the way, she’s drop-kicked the barriers in her path and used her power with words to talk openly about issues that many people might be afraid to approach – all while sending a blast of positivity and joy out into the world along the way.

We’ve chatted about doing something together for ages, so we finally got together for a waddle along the Regent’s canal in London where we talked about being working class but hiding our accents to fit in, overcoming career hurdles, and – the most important topic of all, so maybe I should have just led with it: crisps.

We’ve loved putting this interview together for you and hope you enjoy it.

Hiya Em, lovely to catch up with you. We’ve known each other for yonks, so for the benefit of our readers, please introduce yourself

Hiya. My name’s Emily (though most people call me Em, unless I’m in trouble) and I’m a Welsh writer. I’m currently Global Head of Copy & Editorial at Bumble by day, and a writer for other brands, publications and my Substack, Hurdling, by night and other corners of the day. I live in North London with my husband, who is my favourite person ever.

My writing career started at the age of 7, when I had a poem published in the Donkey Sanctuary magazine. This is when I peaked. After that, I found myself only really caring about the subjects in school that revolved around writing, music, language and using my imagination. That led to a degree in English Literature, Language & Creative Writing at Swansea University, which led to an existential crisis about how on earth I was going to find a job that would let me move to London and do the things I was good at (and most importantly, interested in) while still having fun.

After what felt like hundreds of applications and rejections later, I finally had a call from a recruiter about a Social Media Editor role. It was an early stage subscription startup that made and sold personalised dog food on the internet called tails.com. Somehow, with no experience and only enthusiasm, I got the job. At that role, I spent two years inhaling everything I could possibly learn and try in the world of brand, marketing and creative. In addition to running the social media channels, writing articles and creating content, I started writing all the words for the website, emails, inbox comms and packaging, and discovered that this was called ‘copywriting’.

Once I had a little taste of this life as a ‘real’ writer, it was all I wanted. I spent the very little money I had (£21k a year with £900 rent for a room in London doesn’t leave much spare change in your pocket) on workshops and courses and events, and threw myself into the creative world, figuring out how I could actually convince my boss (the Chief Marketing Officer) to let me leave social media behind and become a full-time word merchant in the creative team. I met Vikki Ross after her D&AD workshop on copy and tone of voice and stayed behind to help her clear up the pizza boxes (only the best writing workshops have pizza, you see). I introduced myself and explained my situation and asked if she mentored any writers and she said that she did, but that she was fully booked at the moment. Slightly dejected, but nevertheless persistent, I asked if we could swap emails and if she could email me if a slot ever freed up.

For some reason, Vikki decided to make space and time and energy for me, and over the course of a few hour-long sessions, she helped me form a plan to convince my boss to let me formalise the fact that I was writing all the copy for the brand, and add ‘Copywriter’ into my title. I pitched the role, like we’d practiced, and was met with a simple, ‘What makes you think you’re a writer?’ I was speechless. I was 23 and couldn’t understand why one minute she’d be praising all my words, asking me to write more, then the next hitting me with this? Now that I’m older, I have a few more theories as to why.

I left that meeting in tears and replied to Vikki’s ‘How did it go?’ message with a spluttering phone call. She asked me what I wanted more, to work at the startup that I so dearly loved, or to become a writer? I chose the latter, pulled together a portfolio, applied for every copywriter job I could see on LinkedIn and eventually accepted one as European Copywriter for a fintech company. Finally, I was a writer and no one could tell me I wasn’t. I’ve been writing ever since.

Blimey, that’s a lot of hurdles to get over. Is that what eventually led you to launching Hurdling, your Substack about how we get over the things that stand in our way?

I started Hurdling back in 2022 because I got so fed up of reading people’s ‘success’ stories, where they only really talked about what happened after they cleared their hurdles – glossing over all the blood, sweat and tears that actually got them over it in the first place. I remember seeing someone online tell their story of having such bad burnout that they took a year off work, then re-emerged having written a memoir, which got published and immediately hit the charts. But I wanted to know how exactly they did that? How did they afford to do that? What were all the practical hoops they had to jump through? Like, literally how did you do that?

I wanted to create a space where I could take a good look at (and even celebrate) the hurdles that so many of us face in all the corners of our lives. I wanted to ask questions and find answers – not just for me, but for others, too. I wanted to interview people from all walks of life (not just all the regular famous guests who do all the podcast rounds) and show that every single person has a story and everyone is interesting if you’re interested enough in finding out why.

Now, it’s a place to peek behind the scenes of the highlights reels we all produce for our lives. It’s somewhere where I can reflect on the messy bits, the things gone wrong, the lessons we have to learn and to share real stories, honest thoughts and unfiltered reflections from myself, and other brilliant people, too. Some of my favourite interviews include Simon Thompson, a Botanical Horticulturist at Kew Gardens, Lo Constantinou, the founder of the CV writing agency, Good Copyand Dave Buonaguidi, the artist and printmaker (who you probably know better as Real Hackney Dave). They’re all so wildly different, and that’s the whole point. Everyone is interesting if you’re interested.

Has anything unexpected happened for you as a result of writing Hurdling?

It’s made me feel a lot more confident in writing in my own voice. When you’re the voice behind the brand, it’s pretty daunting to hold your hand up and say in a tiny voice, ‘Hi I actually have my own voice and I have something I’d like to say!’ But if you know me, you’ll know that I pretty much always have something (too much, usually) to say. It just took me a long time to pluck up the courage to publish it myself.

That knock from the CMO I told you about earlier impacted my confidence for a very long time. But somewhere along the way, it turned into fuel to say, ‘What makes me think I’m a writer? I’ll show you right now.’ I’d started pitching articles to magazines and publications, and used holiday days to take time off work to do an unpaid internship at the Sunday Times Style, so that I could find out how it all actually worked, and what editors wanted from writers. I got a few bylines at Stylistfor reviewing books (though this was unpaid, btw!) and that led to a commission from Refinery29 and then more from HuffPost, Cosmopolitan, Metro, the i Paper and a few others, too.

But for every piece published, there’s probably 50 rejected (or unanswered) pitches. Hurdling has allowed me to have somewhere to write these things anyway, and somewhere to continuously figure out my own writing style.

Someone recently left a comment on one of my pieces that said, ‘Everything you write is so you.’ Until I read that, I don’t think I’d realised just how much it mattered to me that I could show up as myself and not only just be tolerated for it, but appreciated for it. Having spent a lot of my life being made to feel like I’m too loud, too talkative and too much, I don’t think there could be a bigger compliment. Hurdling has given me a tiny (orange) space to really feel like myself again.

You’re from Wales and now live in London – and as someone from Yorkshire who came to London I know how the cultural and class differences can feel overwhelming. Have you ever felt imposter syndrome or found yourself changing things about yourself to try and fit in? Like how you present yourself through your voice, accent and identity?

Oh my god, yes. This is something I’ve wrangled with from the moment I landed in London, and I recently wrote about losing (and re-finding) my accent. It is all so overwhelming and so confusing. I can remember being at work drinks, and a guy from the marketing team asked me which school I’d gone to. I’d excitedly replied with, ‘Archbishop McGrath School in Bridgend! Why, do you know it?!’, not understanding that what he was actually asking was whether I’d been to one of the well-known private schools in England. Needless to say, he had not heard of my school.

After a while, I began to realise there was this secret language of privilege and access that was spoken in startups, advertising agencies and tech companies – but it was never really spoken in a Welsh accent. I’d get comments about my Welsh accent all the time, would smile through the usual jokes that implied that Welsh people were all stupid, and accepted that being ‘exposed’ as Welsh was essentially an admission that I was not really supposed to be in the places I’d worked really fucking hard to be in, and somewhere along the way, I gradually heard my accent slip away. Now, it makes my heart ache when people tell me I ‘don’t really sound that Welsh anymore’.

But when I moved from London to Amsterdam (for just under a year for a maternity contract as Head of Creative at Tony’s Chocolonely), all of that changed. My husband and I upped and left our life in London (prompted by some pretty horrendous bullying and emotional abuse from his parents, who are no longer part of our life) and we sought to unravel all the things that made us feel like we couldn’t show up as ourselves.

I picked up the pieces of my shattered confidence, and unravelled a significant amount of tangled opinions about myself that had never belonged to me in the first place. I stopped doing the things I thought I should be doing. I started doing the things I wanted to be doing. And over time, I heard my accent start to come back.

It was like a fresh start with a blank canvas of a city on which to re-paint ourselves again, and I found that with a community of expats and without such an obvious privilege and class divide, my accent came back and I was able to my Welshness more than I’d ever felt able to in London. When we came back, I was determined to never let anyone make me feel like I needed to lose it again.

How did all of that make you feel?

I felt so sad and angry that I’d ever let anyone make me feel like I wasn’t enough! Enough for who? For someone who I didn’t care about anyway? I’ve now learned instead to try to be enough for me and for the people I care about. It takes a lot to unlearn the people-pleasing tendencies, and don’t get me wrong, I still spend the majority of my days wracked with self-doubt. But I am now so much sure of who I am, how I show up and what I can bring to rooms, people and my work.

As I’m sure you’ll know too, when you have an accent that’s not like everyone else’s in the rooms you’re in, you do draw attention to yourself. And it’s not always for the right reasons – people will always make the joke and do the impressions. But I don’t want to stand out for being the only Welsh person in the room. I want to stand out for being good at what I do. For being good at what I do, as well as being Welsh, instead of for being good at what I do, in spite of being Welsh. I used to feel it was the latter, but I’m determined to prove that it’s really not.

As a writer, your job is to help brands bring their voices to life. Do you think the chameleon effect – the tendency to mimic or mirror another person's facial expressions, nonverbal behaviours and verbal expressions – has given you an advantage?

I have never thought about it in that way before, but absolutely. I give different accents and speech rhythms to different brand voices and I read my copy out loud in those accents (my colleagues are very grateful for remote working, I’m sure). I always say that being a copywriter is like being an actor – you’re taking on a character, all their personality traits and their big worlds of language.

I think you’re right – the chameleon effect is definitely an advantage, but I would say that empathy is too. I am a huge overthinker and very curious and interested about other people and what they do and why they do it. I think writing for brands is ultimately about understanding what makes people tick, and speaking directly to them in the way that makes them feel understood.

You’ve written for lots of amazing brands, but I know that writing for Skin + Me was a turning point. How did that come about?

Thank you, I feel so fortunate to have had the experiences I’ve had. With Skin + Me, I’d been invited to a focus group of women in their 20s by an ex-colleague from tails.com. A lot of the brains behind tails.com had also been behind graze.com and Innocent Drinks, and Skin + Me was to be the new brand on the block revolutionising another industry via subscription. At this point, there was no factory, no brand, no product and no name. So I went to the office in Soho to share insights on how I, a young woman who represented the target market, shopped skincare and felt about my skin.

After the session, I noticed a whiteboard on the wall of the office with a list of roles to hire. On that list was ‘Copyrighter’. On my way out, I grabbed a pen, circled the mis-spelled word and wrote ‘call me’ with my name, number and email underneath. They did and I pitched myself for the interview and got the job.

For the next few months, I had the job of a lifetime where I got to create a brand personality from scratch and create a tone of voice that truly spoke to our audience. It won a Women in Marketing Award a year or so later and it is still probably the piece of work I’m the most proud of. Not because of the award, but because of the emails we got from customers who said, ‘I finally feel seen’ because of the writing across the signup flow, packaging and emails.

From there, it sort of got me known as ‘the subscription startup writer’ and it led me to projects with Lick, Freddie’s Flowers and more. I don’t know that I’ll ever get another experience like that again, but it really was one of the best opportunities I’ve had as a brand writer.

You’ve done a few side gigs and I love the ‘I Want To Eat Crisps With You’ print that you created with artist, Dave Buonaguidi. How did that come to life?

Ah, my pride and joy! I’d been a huge fan of Dave Buonaguidi’s work for a long time – good words written, fun moments captured and big, bold statements. I met him the Affordable Art Fair back in 2021 and I bought his ‘Party Like It’s 1999’ print (and I got to put the glitter on myself). He had an ‘I Want To Eat Biscuits With You’ print for sale and I said ‘Dave, everyone knows that crisps are far more superior than biscuits’ and he said ‘Fuck! I love crisps too!’ and I said ‘Can we do a ‘I Want To Eat Crisps With You’ one?’ and he said ‘Yeah!’

We turned them into different colours; red for ready salted, blue for cheese & onion, green for salt & vinegar and pink for prawn cocktail. All of them are on my kitchen wall and a few of my nearest and dearest friends have some copies too. It’s always fun to see your words in print, but even better to see them on a wall.

Let’s settle this debate: Crisps in sandwiches – yes or no?

Absolutely yes, but there are many conditions and caveats. At my wedding, we made little brown bags of crisp sandwich ingredients for everyone. In the bag was a bread roll, a small square of Welsh butter, a knife and a bag of crisps. I’d done this big Tesco order with pretty much at least one of every crisp available. But not all crisps are created equally as suitable for a sandwich. I felt sorry for those who had Wotsit sandwiches. Basically anything that’s got a maize base instead of a potato is wrong and doesn’t belong in the crisp sandwich. Walkers or Tayto are always the best.

For me, the ultimate crisp sandwich is made of:

• 1 bag of Cheese & Onion Walkers crisps

• 2 slices of Hovis Best of Both bread

• Too much Lurpak butter

• A handprint from where you’ve squished the bread with your hand, making sure all those crisps crumble into the smallest possible pieces

It also has to be cut into triangles, like a meal deal sandwich. This gives you more filling. I don’t know how this is true but it is.

What’s your walking style?

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

Sarah, I know you are the queen of walking so please don’t hate me but I am absolutely a Reluctant Rambler.1 I find it really hard to do things (tasks, activities, work) that feel like they don’t have an objective or a purpose. I find it so hard to convince myself that the purpose of a walk is simply… to walk. I also tend to go everywhere on my bike, which puts me in the wheels, not heels club.

That said, once I’m actually over the hurdle of getting out of the house to go for the walk that I know will get me out of my own head, give me a dose of creativity or refresh my tired brain, I would probably say that I am a Wide-Eyed Waddler. I am basically a Welsh Corgi, waddling about on my short legs and gazing at everything around me with my mouth open, smiling at everyone I pass and peeking through windows and inventing backstories for the people who live in the living rooms I can see.

Headphones or head in the clouds?

If I need clarity, my head is in the clouds (and I am in my own head). If I need a reset or to get out of a funk, it’s music. If I need to be inspired or distracted, it’s a podcast. If I’m walking home alone at night and it feels a bit sketchy (hello, being a woman), I’ll have headphones in but nothing playing, though I do have this huge delusion that no one is going to murder me while I’m listening to Fearless by Taylor Swift. Like imagine being murdered while that song is playing in your ears? That would be ridiculous and embarrassing for the murderer.

My husband and I are obsessed with The Rest Is History podcast. The Titanic is my Roman Empire (as a child, I used to stand over the bannister of the staircase at my mum’s house and drop a necklace over the side like Rose does in the film, LOL) and I just loved the episodes where they brought to life all the stories and backgrounds of the passengers who weren’t famous or ‘of note’, and dive into their backgrounds and realities. It was fascinating. My other favourite podcast is Sentimental Garbage, with the author Caroline O’Donoghue, where she looks at the culture we love that society can sometimes make us feel ashamed of. It’s just gorgeous and funny and silly and wonderful.

Tell me about the most memorable walk you’ve ever done

My most memorable walk was on Wiseman’s Bridge beach in Pembrokeshire. It was New Year’s Eve, it was raining and my poor husband had to spend the entire morning trying to convince me to go for a walk with him (I told you I was a Reluctant Rambler). When we finally got to the beach, the tide was in so he suggested we go to the pub instead, then walk after. We sat at that pub for hours drinking pints and eating crisps until the tide was finally back out far enough to walk across the sand, across the bay to Saundersfoot. Not too far into the walk, he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. On the sand, in the rain, full of crisps. Everyone says their wedding day is the best day of their life but this one was mine.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

I would always take a walk with my grandparents. I’m very lucky to be 31 and to have all four grandparents still with me. I love spending time with them and hearing all their stories (no matter how many times I’ve heard them before) and asking them more questions about their lives, decisions and opinions on the world. They always have the answers, and the ability to help me figure out my own, too.

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk? Hula Hoops.

• One word to describe how you feel about writing? Painstaking (emphasis on the ‘pain’).

• One flavour of crisps you can’t live without? Salt & Vinegar (specifically, the Sea Salt & Chardonnay Vinegar from the Co-Op).

Last question: please can you share a walking-inspired writing prompt for our readers?

Describe everything about a walk, from the point of view of the insole in your left shoe.

Em, that has to be the most specific, most niche writing prompt we’ve had so far on The Writer’s Walk. I love it! Thanks for walking with me and for being so generous with your answers to all my questions.

You can learn more about Em and her work on her website and follow her on Instagram. And you should definitely subscribe to her Substack, Hurdling:

Subscribe to Hurdling

I’ll leave you with this final thought from Em on copywriting, which is also a pretty good way to approach life:

Happy walking and writing until next time.

Sarah

That’s just one of the challenges Rebecca Dawson has had to overcome in order to enjoy outdoor activities like trail hiking and wild camping. And it’s these barriers to access that motivated her to do something to change the story for tens of thousands of other people.

Rebecca and I met at a CampWild community campout. Over a campfire chat and some paddle boarding I discovered that she’s the owner of plus size outdoor gear store Vampire Outdoors, a former Chair of Trustees for the Ramblers and co-founder of Every Body Outdoors, a community action group fighting for clothing, gear and representation for plus size bodies in the outdoor movement.

Representation matters – in all walks of life. But for people with bigger bodies there are numerous hurdles to getting into outdoor activities like hiking, climbing, cycling, paddle sports and camping. From finding gear that fits and overcoming self doubt, to experiencing stigmas like body shaming.

Rebecca’s changing all of that. Acting as a champion for people of all body sizes and challenging outdoor brands and leaders to design products and experiences that work for everyone, together with improving representation.

Having bought something from Vampire Outdoors already (hello Kula Cloth!) and having followed Every Body Outdoors and their work for a while, I was thrilled to meet someone in person who I find so inspiring through their social media. So when we saw each other at the National Outdoor Expo I asked if she’d chat with me for The Writer’s Walk – and was honoured when she said yes.

Hi Rebecca, thanks for chatting with me – please tell our readers about yourself

Thanks Sarah. My name is Rebecca Dawson. I grew up in a village in Surrey where I spent a lot of time in the countryside, and now I live in South Cambridgeshire, in a rural village, with my two lovely Burmese cats. I work for myself and run two businesses – Spadeworx, a marketing business focused on farming and agriculture, and Vampire Outdoors, an online shop that specialises in plus size outdoor gear and accessories for everyone, including some outdoor hygiene products that are specifically focused towards women. I'm also, on a voluntary basis, a director of Every Body Outdoors, a non-profit community interest company.

Have you always been a walker?

No, I haven't. I've always been outdoorsy, and loved nature, but I was a horse rider when I was a child, so I spent a lot of time outdoors, experiencing the countryside, but on horseback, not on my own two legs. And actually, I really hated walking! When I was a child, I used to moan when my family would drag us for a walk. It wasn't until my early 30s that I discovered that I actually liked walking. I went through a marriage breakup in my late 20s and suffered with depression, and as part of recovering from that my GP advised me to do some walking, but I didn't really know where to start. I was like, oh, I don't really know where to go. I knew a bit about footpaths and bridleways from when I was a rider, but I was now living in a completely different area that I hadn't really explored.

So I did a bit of walking locally, then a friend suggested I do the London MoonWalk with her and some friends – that’s an overnight marathon walk in London to raise money for breast cancer causes, and you walk in decorated bras. So that was just absolutely madness and right up my street. So I said yes, having never walked any significant distance at all, and I started training, because obviously this was a thing I needed to train for. I'd never walked 26.2 miles before. So I started training with local friends and in the evenings we'd go out for a little walk around the villages and pound the pavements overnight. I started exploring a little bit further, finding footpaths that were sort of connected together to increase my mileage. I did the MoonWalk, but it was very painful as I was injured beforehand, but I finished it.

Then another friend said, do you fancy walking the Hadrian's Wall long distance path with me, as a holiday? And I was like, I don't know what that's about, but yeah, sounds good. So again, I had no experience. I had to buy hiking boots. I had to find a backpack that was big enough. We didn't camp. We used a baggage service and carried a day bag and stayed at B&Bs. It was a good introduction, but we had to do it in a really short period of time because of our individual commitments, which meant we had to do huge mileage each day ­– 20 to 22 miles a day, which was massive. But I really enjoyed that walk. That long distance path was pivotal in creating this sort of feeling in me of being more connected to the outdoors, of really enjoying long distance walking.

I did the MoonWalk again the following year. Then I decided that if I was going to keep doing these mad challenges, it would be better if I found a walking group, so I could walk more regularly. And it took me quite a long time to find a group that I felt comfortable with. I didn't want to walk with a bunch of older people because, at that time, I was single and didn't know many people in the area, and I wanted to make new friends who were my peers. And I kind of resigned myself to having to join the Ramblers because I couldn't find another walking group. But then I found a young walkers group, with people in their 20s and 30s. That’s what propelled my walking hobby and it led to a lot of other things.

I’m guessing one of the things it led to was your role as Chair of Trustees for the Ramblers – can you tell me more?

So the Ramblers is the nation's walking charity. Not only does it have a lot of walking groups – we're up to around 600 now – around half of its work is on protecting and expanding the places where we can walk. The Ramblers is a statutory body that has to be consulted on any changes to the path network – things like getting new or improved access and maintaining paths. We have about 25,000 volunteers and just over 100,000 members. We are the voice of walkers in Great Britain, and I’m pretty passionate about it.

My involvement came about after joining the Stag Walkers group after years of looking for a group I wanted to walk with. It was a very small group and the person running it had been doing it on her own for many years and had asked people to help but no one had, so she was on the verge of closing the group. And I thought, oh my god, I have just found this group, I really don't want it to shut down. So I said to her, I know nothing about the Ramblers and nothing about walking groups, but I have a background in marketing, and if I can help keep this group going, then let's do that.

So within months of joining, I was running the group with the help of the lady who'd been there before and I ran it, effectively as Chair, for eight years. At the start, I didn't know what I was doing, so I reached out for help and got to know Paul, the Chair of a young walkers group in the Chilterns. He was really helpful and encouraged me to go to my Ramblers Area Committee, which is where all the groups from a county work together. So I went to those meetings, which no one from my group had gone to for donkey's years, and started learning more. Paul also encouraged me to go to the Annual General Meeting (AGM) as a way to learn more about the organisation. So I went as a visitor, rather than a voting member, and I was baffled by the whole thing, to be honest. But around two years later, after Paul’s encouragement, I decided to stand as a trustee because I’d learned a lot more about the Ramblers by then and had strong opinions around what younger people who love the outdoors or walking would benefit from.

And, you know, it was very bad. It was non digital at that time. And I was frustrated, as a person in my 30s who worked in marketing, and felt it was madness that we were not doing this, that and the other. So I stood as a trustee in Southampton, and was elected at the AGM in 2016 and joined the board. I’d never been a trustee before and it was a huge learning experience. I was a trustee for seven years, doing a three-year term as an ordinary trustee before being re-elected and spending nine months as Vice Chair. The current Chair, Kate Ashbrook, kept encouraging me to stand as Chair, so in the end I did, was elected, and did three years as Chair of the board.

It was a huge time of change. I led the organization through a complete strategic refresh, where we looked at our 10-year revenue strategy and appointed a new chief executive. We'd just come out of COVID then, but we were starting to realign ourselves and think about our future. And it was just the most incredible experience being a trustee of a charity like this. We had a whole digital transformation programme as well, which happened during my tenure as a trustee, and which has revolutionised the organisation – although it wasn't easy, it was really difficult.

And it's things like this you don't get to do when you're self employed, despite the fact that I've worked in-agency and in-house before, you don't get to do these sort of things unless you are sitting on the board of a company. So I got to do things that I don't get to do all the time in my professional life, but I brought all of my skills with me. Then there was skill sharing. I learned loads of skills as a trustee and Chair at the Ramblers, and I've brought them into my professional life where they also lead into the work that I do with Every Body Outdoors.

Having seven years in governance of a national charity fired up my understanding of how inaccessible the countryside and nature is for a lot of people, and how difficult it is to do the things that a lot of us take for granted. And honestly, the Ramblers, not just the time I was a trustee, but as an organisation, has totally changed my life for the better. It really, really has. I'm ever so grateful for that, which is why I will continue to support the organisation forever.

You co-founded Every Body Outdoors – can you share how you met your co-founders and why you set it up?

Yes, so I am one of five co-founders of Every Body Outdoors. It started during lockdown, when one of the other directors, Steph Wetherell, brought us all together. We were all ranting on Instagram about not being able to get outdoor clothes that fit us, all that kind of stuff, so she connected with us all individually.

I was really fired up about doing something about this anyway, but because I then became Chair of the Ramblers, I just didn't have time to do it myself, and so Steph brought us together. We started off as five angry women who wanted to make a difference to plus size people who wanted to take part in outdoor activities, be that walking, hiking, outdoor swimming, climbing, mountain biking, paddle sports, all of those kinds of outdoor sports. All of us have a particular interest and we cover a big range of activities that we really like doing. I'm obviously more on the hiking and the camping side. Kumbi Kariwo is a climber and Emily Williams is really into cycling, wild swimming and paddle sports. Sara Huws does a bit of everything – swimming, hiking. Steph is into hiking, camping, cycling and a bit of swimming.

We set it up thinking that we were just going to really be trying to influence brands to make things in bigger sizes. Like doing reviews and helping brands out with fit testing and that kind of stuff. And that's kind of what we were working towards. And we thought it'll be lovely to have group walks and stuff, and have a community. Steph had already created a closed Facebook group, which was more about the kit side of stuff, so we launched an Instagram account and within 48 hours we had 1,000 followers.

And we were like, oh, that's interesting. There's clearly more people than we thought that were also really passionate about this. So we quickly discovered that there was a big community out there and the community element of what we do – the group walks and hill skills, courses specifically for plus size people – had to happen a lot sooner than we thought it was going to, which was amazing. Now our work is very much split between our community work and our work with brands. We’ve got 26 volunteers across the UK who run walks for plus size people. We have courses on hill skills, navigation and stuff like that. We've done climbing taster events. We're going to do some mountain biking stuff. So all of these things are part of what we do now, alongside the work with brands and the advocacy piece around raising plus size voices in the outdoors.

I’m guessing that you’ve personally experienced stigma or prejudice. Could you share an experience with me, how it made you feel and what you did to overcome it?

One thing I will say, is I very much benefit from size privilege. I am the smallest of the Every Body Outdoors directors in terms of body size. When I first started I was size 16, and now size 18, and I'm still the smallest. So I definitely benefit from size privilege in that there are more things for me to buy. Maybe they don’t fit very well, and I obviously have much more choice than others with bigger bodies, but I still find it really frustrating.

Because I love long distance walking, I’ve been trying to find kit that’s as lightweight as possible. And what you find is that, as a bigger body person, you're pretty much excluded from most ultralight outdoor gear because it's made for people in small bodies. You know, sleeping bags are really skinny. They don't fit me. The really ultralight clothing isn't available in my size. From a gear point of view, I find that really, really frustrating.

In terms of prejudice and stigma, the thing I struggled with a lot was that I'm quite slow, and I find hills difficult. Even in my walking group I would often be at the back, and it would make me feel embarrassed and ashamed that I couldn't do it and I often felt left behind.

I think people don't appreciate they need to pay attention to other people in the group. We find this a lot with our community members who tell us they've been on group walks, and they find themselves being left behind or being stigmatised for being slow. And people having to wait for you, and then when you get there they don't give you a chance to get your breath back. You know, they've been stood there for five minutes and feel ready to go again, but they don't give you that opportunity. And that's frustrating and upsetting. So I've definitely experienced that.

Other things that happen on the trail is stiles being too narrow. It's still difficult to get through kissing gates and gaps and stiles. It's embarrassing, you know? It's really embarrassing. And for people who have bigger bodies than me, it's completely impossible. Sometimes I've had to climb over walls to get through a gap and it's not fun.

But I've done a lot of work on myself with therapists, and recently I have found a lot of peace with my body and with what I'm capable of. There's an element of gaslighting yourself and I'm still working on it because it's hard to stop the negative talk and telling yourself stories, which are not necessarily true. So I'd say it's an ongoing piece of work, but I definitely have felt better about myself for the past few years.

What’re the positive things to have come from your work with Every Body Outdoors and Vampire Outdoors?

The real positive is seeing a movement of people who share a passion and a desire to make the outdoors more accessible to more people, and to people who face specific barriers to access. And in the case of Every Body Outdoors and Vampire Outdoors, that is predominantly people who have bigger bodies. And it's also, not deliberately but quite predominantly, women. Although Every Body Outdoors is not biased towards gender, we have a majority of women in our community. We do have some men, and it seems that men face some slightly different challenges, as well as the gear problems that women face. But I think a lot of women who are plus size and want to get into the outdoors also face a significant confidence issue, and that's something we try to help them with – with the courses and group walks and all that stuff. It’s where they can walk in a non-judgmental space and really explore what it is they love about the outdoors without fearing being left behind or being shamed or made to feel like they're not welcome.

And that obviously crosses over into Vampire Outdoors, because in enabling people to buy the clothing that they need, and that fits them – and feels and looks great – they feel more confident, because they feel like they fit in. One of the bigger issues is that if you can't find something that fits your body, and you're making do with something and see other people in the outdoors who have got all the gear. I'm not saying you have to have all of the gear to go into the outdoors, but there becomes a point at which it is critical. Like having a decent waterproof if you're going into the hills, having a backpack that fits you and doesn't rub and cause you pain. There's a safety element when it comes to things like climbing harnesses and personal flotation devices (PFDs) for paddle sports. There’s actually a very real safety risk if you don't have the right gear. And I should say, I don't do climbing harnesses or PFDs at Vampire Outdoors, but it's one of the things I'd like to do in the future.

Being able to access gear that fits you makes it not only more accessible, but also more comfortable. And if you're more comfortable, you're more likely to enjoy it, and if you enjoy it, you're more likely to do it again. And I think that is confidence building in people who either weren't sure that it was for them, or they maybe used to do it when they were younger or in a smaller body, and then they just didn't really feel like they could do it anymore. But through the community they see other people doing it and realise that it is for them. And that, for me, is one of the most wonderful and hugely validating things.

Can you share some advice for plus size people who want to get into outdoor activities but might not know where to start?

I think the trouble is that we see people on social media doing the Wainwrights, climbing big walls and going on Epic Adventures, and while that is obviously super inspiring, it can also be overwhelming.

So the trick is to start small. If you want to start hiking start going for small walks. You don't have to go to a national park – we are blessed in this country with a myriad of footpaths, bridleways, byways and so many places where you can go for a walk in the countryside. And often you don't have to travel too far.

And if you're in a city, you might only have to go to the outer edges of it, where the greenery starts, and you'll start finding beautiful places. Finding a local walking group is good way because you haven't got to worry about navigation. You can get books with routes in them that are often well signposted and you can get routes off different apps. Start by doing an hour, see how you get on, and it will start building your confidence slowly.

The same thing applies to cycling. Road cycling can be accessible because you can literally do it from your door. There's a cost in getting a bike, but you can get second-hand bikes or go somewhere where they do bike hire and follow a set route. And remember, you don't have to cycle all of it. So if it's your first time, you might not be able to go for an hour cycling, because it might be too painful on your bum, but you could cycle some of it, and then you could push the bike for a bit. Take a backpack. Take some food. Stop multiple times. Have a snack, have a picnic. Sit down and enjoy being outdoors and don't make it all about the activity.

With paddle sports, you can hire paddle boards, canoes and kayaks and what I would say is, talk to the hire provider in advance. Tell them your weight. Telling people your weight might be quite triggering, but it's really important, because they need to be able to find the right board or the right size kayak or canoe that's going to work for your weight. And it's really important, particularly paddle boarding, as they come in different sizes. Do it somewhere safe, like on a lake, and have a little introductory lesson. There’s also some great plus size paddle boarders who post on social media and share tips. And you can make it fun by doing it with friends.

Camping is so accessible. It's fantastic. And you don't have to wild camp or backpack. You can buy a cheap tent that you can even stand up in and book a campsite and just spend one night if you're not sure if it's for you. When it comes to things like sleeping bags and mats and stuff, just buy an inflatable mat that you would use as a spare bed at home and take a duvet. If you're just going for one night on a campsite and you're going with your car, you don't need ultralight stuff. You can get away with trying stuff out. I used to camp in a big five-person tunnel tent that I could stand up in, with a big mattress and my duvet about four years ago. I wasn't into wild camping or camping in a small tent. I would only go to campsites with a massive tent with my car full of stuff. And you know what? That's perfectly valid. And I still love camping like that. You don't need to go ultra-lightweight or try and follow what other people are doing. Just go and try it out in your own way.

And what advice would you give to people who run outdoor businesses – like outdoor leaders, gear and clothing brands, campsites and so on?

My main advice would be to think outside of your own perception of what it looks like to be somebody who enjoys the outdoors. I find a lot of people who work in the outdoors are surrounded by other people who look like them – you know, pretty fit people who scale mountains or do loads of climbing or are very adventurous. Sometimes we forget that we all start somewhere, and that people who have bigger body sizes are just like us – they love the outdoors or want to spend time in nature – and that the experience of those people who have bigger bodies is as valid as the people who are in smaller bodies, have high fitness levels or who look more outdoorsy. So whether you’re a mountain leader, run a campsite, or hire equipment, look at what you’re doing and the people you're excluding.

I would say that bike hire is one of those things that excludes a lot of people because of weight limits on bikes – when you can get bikes that will take bigger and heavier people. It’s the same with wetsuits. If you’re a water sport business and hire wetsuits, you really have to think about what you offer and a lot of them do not offer plus size wetsuits. And they are available.

And for outdoor leaders, if you've got plus size people in your group, it’s about really thinking about that person's experience. Mountain leaders should already be trained to manage groups properly, but unfortunately, it doesn't always happen. And if you're joining a group walk and you're worried about it, talk to the leader in advance, because they're more than likely to be able to reassure you.

And clothing brands need to make stuff in bigger sizes. Half of the female population are a size 16 and above, and the average size of a UK woman is 18, according to data from Mys Tyler. Not only are you excluding people from the outdoors by not allowing them to get the kit that they need, you're also missing a massive trick in terms of income. You’re ignoring a huge amount of income because you refuse to see plus size people as valid customers for your brand. So make stuff in bigger sizes, please. Thanks!

What’s your walking style?

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

I would say I'm a happy hiker. I love walking, and I find joy in just going for a walk. And it doesn't have to be a massive walk. I sometimes go for a very short walk in my village if I'm feeling really overwhelmed or I just haven't got time for a long walk. I’m also planning a week's long-distance trail in June, and those are equally happy things for me to do.

Headphones on or head in the clouds?

I never wear headphones. I'm actually deaf in one ear, so I feel really vulnerable if I cannot hear in the outdoors. And I would say my head is not in the clouds, I think it’s in the trees. I'm pretty present and I like to observe as I'm going around. So I love listening to the birds, and I love watching like the landscape change. I like listening to the sounds of nature.

What’s your most memorable walk?

That's a really difficult question to answer. There's so many. But I’ll share a walk that I felt was really profound in a few different ways for me. I did a long distance trail called the Affric Kintail Way that runs through Glen Affric into the Kintail mountains. It's a sort of valley walk, not a lot of elevation, and is 40 miles. I did it over four days with a friend, and it was my first time walking and wild camping. In fact, we wild camped for two nights, but we camped at a campsite, then we did a wild camp, then we stayed in a really, really remote youth hostel. It was the first time I'd done a long distance hike carrying everything. I’d done very little walking in Scotland and it was just the most incredible landscape. It was awe inspiring. I was quite deep into my therapy journey at the time, and really learning to reconnect with myself. That time spent in nature with a friend who was super supportive and just lovely and never, never judged me, was a really validating experience. Both the incredible landscape and the emotional journey that I went on through that landscape, and how I learned more about myself. I learned what I'm capable of. I learned what it was like to spend four days in the wilderness, because it's really, really, really remote.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be?

I'm not very good with celebrities because I don't really know who they are, to be perfectly honest. But do you know what? I think I would love to go for a walk with Dolly Parton. I am a huge fan of her music, and love her altruistic approach and as a business woman, as well – she's an incredible business woman. She also fights for the things that matter without getting political, like the support she's given to healthcare, to children, to education, which I find really inspiring. I'd love to pick her brains. I'd love to just be in her presence. And I think she would love a walk. She comes from the Smoky Mountains and I think she would love to go for a walk and talk about stuff. And I'd love to do that with her.

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk?
  Water

• One word to describe how walking makes you feel?
  Alive

• One word to describe how you feel about inspiring people to get outdoors?
  Proud

Thanks for chatting with me, Rebecca, and for sharing your walking story and the work you’re doing to make the outdoors accessible for more people.

If you want to follow Rebecca’s outdoor adventures check out Vampire Outdoors on Instagram, where you can also follow Every Body Outdoors.

Happy walking and writing until next time,

Sarah

More from The Writer’s Walk

If you enjoyed learning about Rebecca’s story and work, you might also enjoy my interview with Hana Sutch, Co-founder of walking app Go Jauntly, who’s helping to break down barriers and improve access to green space.

Hello walkers and writers 👋

If you’re a copywriter, or in any way interested in how brands speak and where they get their voices from, then chances are you’ve heard of Nick Parker. He’s spent years delving into language, unpicking the stitching to see how it all works, then using his knowledge and talent to help the brands he works with. He’s had a brilliant career, from deputy editor of The Oldie to strategy partner at The Writer, to setting up his own language studio. He’s helped hundreds of brands find their voice, trained thousands of people and writes the brilliant Tone Knob newsletter where he geeks out about brands that are doing interesting things with their voice and language.

Endlessly curious, always experimenting with new things, Nick’s what you might call a *whispers* polymath. Except he probably wouldn’t use that word cos it’s a bit fancy, innit.

As fellow brand writers, we kinda move in the same circles, except we’ve not worked together directly and haven’t had the chance to chat much about writing. Nick’s done lots of interviews, podcasts, talks and conferences – where the focus is usually on brand tone of voice. So I thought it’d be interesting to peel back the layers to find the source of all that creativity. Where does it come from, what does it eat? And why?

We met for a brand ramble aka a Bramble (trademark pending) in Oxford to find words in the wild. Our walk took us along the canal, through Port Meadow, St Sepulchre’s Cemetery in Jericho and into Blackwell’s. We also strolled around the Pitt Rivers Museum where we had a fascinating chat with a curator about magic, witches, totems and wands, and I showed Nick my favourite ever museum object – a silvered glass bottle said to contain a witch.

We had a brilliant time putting this interview together for you and hope you enjoy it.

Hiya Nick, thanks for ‘walking n talking’ with me. We’ve known each other a while, so for the benefit of our readers, please introduce yourself

I live just outside Reading, in Berkshire. By the Thames. It’s very pretty. There are lots of walks. In fact, it’s the sort of place people come on holiday to do a bit of walking. I grew up in a city so that always catches me out.

I say I’m ‘mostly, a writer’. I worked in magazine publishing, then at a creative agency, now I work for myself. I’ve tried all sorts of other titles (‘language strategist’, ‘creative consultant’ etc) but they always feel a bit try-hard and I invariably end up back at ‘writer’.

You spend a lot of your time helping brands find their voice. Have you ever found the lines blurring between your own voice and someone else’s, or felt that you’re losing yours because you’re often writing as other people or brands?

Oh, that’s an interesting question. My instinctive answer is that no, I don’t find the lines blurring: I think I’ve always had a fairly good sense of my own voice – of the sorts of perspectives that I like to take on things, and the ways I like to talk about them (which is mostly about how I use humour, I think.) And although I’ve written in lots of different voices for my clients, I actually tend not to get asked to do funny stuff very often.

That said – there’s a directness to most copywriting – of knowing why you’re writing, where you’re going, and what the pay-off for the reader is – and I think that directness has become part of my own voice. I notice when I do other types of ‘creative’ writing – fiction or poetry – that I can’t shake that directness.

Though thinking about it, I wrote most of the short stories – which are all under 2,000 words, often only a page or so – in my book The Exploding Boy before I worked as a copywriter. So maybe directness is just me, after all.

You’ve spent years learning to sing. Has it taught you anything about tone of voice, and have you changed your approach as a result?

Ha! Yes. I have. It’s been a long, weird journey: I had an awful, tuneless, strangulated sort of voice. If I ever had to sing in public, I’d just mime. But I really wanted to be able to sing – people who sing seemed to be having the best time!

And also for some reason that I can’t explain, I had this strong sense that singing was something I was supposed to be able to do! So over the last ten years, I’ve been slowly, slowly, learning to sing: every couple of years I’d have a few lessons, and verrrry gradually, it started to come together. The last couple of years I’ve been singing at open mic nights, which has helped enormously. I’m not great, but people don’t wince like they used to.

To be honest, I don’t think it’s taught me much about ‘voice’ – but it has been a huge lesson in the power of incremental change. It’s basically been a decade. That’s an absurd amount of time really. Yet I kind of did it ‘with hope, but without expectation’ and enjoyed the journey for what it was, and all of a sudden here I am. I think part of the reason I still talk about the ‘journey from not being able to sing’ is that I haven’t quite got my head round the fact that I can just do it now.

And what’s your favourite song to sing?

The Book of Love, by the Magnetic Fields. Greatest love song ever written.

You’re constantly learning and experimenting with creativity. What does living a creative life mean to you?

I think there’s a few things going on for me. Partly, I’m just happiest when I’m making something – and that can be a bit of writing, a drawing or painting, playing music, making food, making something out of wood, whatever. Days where I’ve used my hands and ‘made a thing’ are the days that feel well spent.

Also – I’m just really drawn to learning new stuff. I love the moment where the fog of confusion and ineptitude lifts and you’re like oooh, I get it now. And I like the practice of often being in ‘beginners’ mind’.

I did a project where I learned to play the trumpet in a month, to play at a festival called Inexpert. I learned origami during lockdown. A couple of years ago I taught myself to make furniture out of scaffolding planks. Sometimes it’s just small things – like teaching myself to whistle using my fingers, or doing a proper wheelie on my bike.

It’s one of the best things about the internet is that you can both learn to do almost anything from YouTube, and – even better – you can find a teacher for almost anything. I’m gonna have a lesson to learn the basics of playing the musical saw in a few weeks. How cool is that?! (OK, not cool at all. But you know what I mean).

There’s a balance, though. It’s easy for me to always be finding new things to do. At the moment, I’m trying to ‘start from what’s here, rather than what’s absent’, if that makes sense.

What creative ‘thing’ are you most proud of doing, and why?

I think it’s always the thing I’m working on at the moment! Once something’s done, it feels obvious and inevitable. I was pleased with the little book On Reading. The idea came unexpectedly, and – because I broke my leg and was laid up! – the process of writing it was enjoyable. Putting it out into the world has sparked so many great conversations, new friendships, etc.

(Sarah’s note: On Reading is a gorgeous book that fits perfectly in your pocket.)

Any tips on what people can do to get more play and creativity into their life?

Oh – find other people to play with! It took me ages to realise this. I used to just chug away at things by myself, which is fine but… lonely! The cartoonist Lynda Barry says of drawing that it’s a ‘solitary activity that we must do together’ – and I think that’s true of most creative things, even ones that at first glance might seem like ‘solo activities’. A month in a band beats years of solitary music practice. A book club. A sewing circle. A writing group.

You’ve been working on being more ‘in your body’ in recent years with things like pilates and yoga. It seems like movement/exercise was something you previously avoided, so I wondered if it’s brought any unexpected benefits other than physical health?

Ha, that’s true. Not unlike singing, in fact. I was always very ‘disconnected’ from my body, and very inflexible. Then I started to get a bad back. And exactly like singing, actually – I now have a much stronger sense of being an ‘integrated whole’.

I think being a writer got me stuck in my head too much. I’ve realised I’m most content when I can take ‘short forays’ into my head. If ever I’m feeling out of sorts – particularly if I’m feeling anxious – it’s often just because I haven’t been up and out and moving enough. I feel like I re-learn this lesson every few months!

Sticking with the theme of movement, what role does walking play in your writing life?

I’m a sort of practical walker, I think: I tend to do purposeful ‘A to B’ type walking (like not taking the tube in London, but walking wherever I need to go.) And also a ‘walk-and-talker’ – walking is a great ‘problem-solving technology’. Either talking to yourself, or with other people. I love all kinds of walks – big mountain walks, getting lost in city walks, familiar walks, exploring new places walks. But I like them most of all when I’m having a really good conversation at the same time.

Curiosity seems to be the thread that connects your creative pursuits from writing and drawing, to music and movement. There’s bound to be times when you come across something and think ‘meh’, even if it’s just occasionally. So when that happens, what do you do to reignite your curiosity and interest?

Oh, I just go and do something else for a bit. I think we all have ‘seasons’ of interest in stuff. I think the knack is to have different interests for different times. Outdoors in the sun stuff. Indoors by the fire stuff. Stuff that stretches your brain. Stuff you can do on autopilot. Stuff you do with others, stuff you do alone…

I’m aware that I sound like a slightly frenetic ‘always learning!!’ kinda person. The reality is much slower than that. Most of the things – music, art, singing, movement – ebb and flow, there are years on and years off.

What’s your walking style?

Definitely Walk n Talker!

Headphones or head in the clouds?

I’ve always wanted to be a ‘walk-and-podcast listener’, and quite often I’ll dig out an interesting sounding podcast and head out for a lunchtime walk… then after about 5 minutes I’ll find I’ve taken my headphones off! There’s something a bit claustrophobic for me about headphones. I like to hear what’s going on around me.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be?

I’d like to walk n talk with my parents – they both died fairly young. I’d love a walk n talk with them.

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk? Herbals. (Actually, not always, but as often as possible. They’re the taste of North Wales mountains to me!)

• One word to describe how you feel about writing? Essential.

• One word to describe how you feel about the trumpet? Joyful.

I usually ask writers to share a walking-inspired writing prompt, but let’s flip that on its head – can you share a writing-inspired walking prompt for our readers?

Just before you head out for a walk, grab a book at random from your shelf and read a page or two. Use this as the stimulus on your walk. You might talk about it with someone else. You might just mull it over in your own mind. You might use it as something to respond to with your own writing. I find that this gives a walk a distinctive ‘inner landscape’ that makes them memorable.

Thanks for walking and talking with me, Nick – and for indulging me in my intrigue with witches trapped inside silvered bottles.

You can learn more about Nick’s work on his website where you can also get hold of his book, On Reading, and you should definitely sign up to his newsletter, Tone Knob, for all things brand and voice.

I’ll leave you with this final tip from Nick on creativity:

Happy walking and writing until next time.

Sarah

More from The Writer’s Walk

Follow in our footsteps with a wander around a museum.

That’s what Hana Sutch has discovered through walking. And it’s these challenges to access, and the realisation that she rarely sees someone who looks like her when she’s on a leisure walk, that motivated her to do something about it.

Hana is the co-founder and CEO at Go Jauntly, a multi award-winning walking, wayfinding and nature connection app.

As desk-bound London city-dwellers she and her co-founders yearned to be a bit more active – without resorting to the gym. When they saw how hard it was to find walks and trails in familiar, local places – especially with young families – they decided to do something about that by creating a walking app.

Like Hana, I’m not a fan of the gym, so I knew we already had that in common – together with our love of walking and desire to share that with others. I’m also inspired by how she’s raising awareness of the challenges to accessing green space, and love what she’s building with Go Jauntly. So we met for a wander and she told me all about her love of walking. I’m really honoured to share her story with you here.

Hi Hana, thanks for chatting with me. Please introduce yourself.

Hi! I’m Hana Sutch, co-founder and CEO at Go Jauntly, the multi award-winning walking, wayfinding and nature connection app. I live in South East London with my family and our crazy-fun cockapoo. 

I have a design and tech background and worked agency-side for most of my early career and delivered massive digital projects for the likes of Xbox, Nike, Science Museum and more.

My connection to nature (and love of walking) definitely developed later on in life and really blossomed after I had a kid. It was really important to me that they grew up with a good connection with the natural world, despite living in the big smoke.

You co-founded Go Jauntly, in 2016. What motivated you to create it?

The app was born out of a frustration of not being able to find nice places to go for a walk despite living in London which is actually 47% green space! Getting out into nature is often associated with ‘the great outdoors’ which is inaccessible to so many people. Access to green space isn’t equitable. Women, people of colour, people with health conditions, kids, and people from low socio-economic backgrounds are the least likely to access nature – but would benefit the most. I really wanted to do what I could to break down the barriers to walking, like not knowing where to go, whether there were loos onsite, how muddy it was, what the walk looked like, or where to walk. Most of the existing apps were targeted at the already fit, trad white male hill-hiker types and not at people like me.

What’s been the most fun about creating a walking app?

I’ve got to travel a lot! Especially across the UK. Quite often we curate brand new walking routes for our clients and partners which means not only some initial desk research but literal boots on ground, surveying and groundtruthing the routes. We get to trial the routes ourselves and whilst sometimes the routes are no good due to things like badly maintained paths, on the whole it’s been a really fun and positive experience. Then seeing people out and about enjoying the routes we’ve created after they’ve gone out ‘into the wild’ is amazing. We try to make really great walks. Ones that feature a bit of everything from good local cafes or pubs to pretty gardens and streets through to sweeping vistas. And we mustn’t forget the loos, we always need the loos!

And what hurdles did you have to overcome?

Ah, so many hurdles. We’re bootstrapped so we aren’t backed with VC money. It’s been a lot of hard graft. Blood, sweat, tears or broken ankles (on a client walk!). 

What obstacles to walking do people face these days?

The billionaire tech bros have a lot to answer for on so many levels. The attention economy has stolen our freedom to be well-rested, bored, inspired, creative, at ease. Doomscrolling news and social media has made the few very rich and the masses poorer for it in so many ways. More unhealthy, more sedentary, more isolated, less happy, less active and worse off all round. I know it might be weird for a tech founder with an app to say this but it’s true.

We’re so reliant on cars, people don’t realise that it’s 9 to 12 times more polluted inside a car compared to outside a car and that those 5-minute journeys you make in a car could be walked in 25 mins or less. Domestic transport emissions accounted for 29% of our greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions in 2023. One way to be more active and more sustainable is to ditch the car for short trips. 

For me, being a walker isn’t about climbing hills or visiting national parks – it’s about building more walking trips into your everyday life. It’s a great way to connect with the natural world, it’s good for you physically and mentally. Start small like I did. 10 mins here, 10 mins there and give it a few years you’ll be walking 20 miles over two days like I accidentally did a few weeks ago for work. 

Your background is in tech and digital design. How do you think tech can support, or enhance people’s experience of walking and nature?

Go Jauntly is an enabler. It helps you find walks on the go and new walks in your neighbourhood or further afield. Occasionally, some people say that they don’t need a phone to go on a walk and I’m like, great, I’m really happy for you but lots of people don’t have your confidence. They can’t read a map, they aren’t confident of their surroundings or they don’t know where to walk. This is where we step in. People can preview our walks in advance, check out the photo-led guides, head to the destination and then pop their phone in their pocket and only get it out when they need guidance or more inspiration.

Our app is not designed to keep you at home, with endless scrolling/watching videos from dubious influencers or advertisers but designed to get you out and about and enjoying nature. One of our hypotheses at the start was if we can get more people to walk for leisure then they’ll be more likely to walk for active travel. A recent poll of 3,000 app users on our leisure walks showed that nearly 90% agreed that they now walk more for active travel as a result of Go Jauntly. That is a massive win for us as walking is good for people and the planet.

What has Go Jauntly taught you about walking and people’s relationship with it?

What I didn’t fully understand when I was in the early days of Go Jauntly is…

1. How much good walking infrastructure affects your feelings about walking. If the paths are flat, there are no barriers, it’s green/nature-filled, you see other people like you walking, the propensity to walk is so much higher. 

2. How few people that look like me I’ve seen on my leisure walks. I’m of mixed heritage and I think I’ve seen about 10 people who look similar to me out and about on leisure walks in the last 10 years. There’s so much more work needed for diversity in the outdoors.

3. Not only am I trying to get people to download my walking app, I’m trying to get people who don’t walk, to walk more! This is the only way to make true social impact and promote behavior change and it is a massive task that I completely underestimated.

You partnered with the Nature Connectedness Research Group at the University of Derby to create a research app that would measure the impact of noticing urban nature on mental health. What did you learn from that?

The Nature Notes feature was developed as part of the £1.3m Improving Wellbeing Through Urban Nature project. Studies led by the University of Derby’s Nature Connectedness Research Group (NCRG) found that using a smartphone app to prompt people to notice the good things in urban nature not only increased their connection with nature, but brought key wellbeing benefits to users. Crucially, the research found it brought clinically significant improvements in quality of life for people living with a mental health difficulty.

We learnt about the pathways to nature connectedness which informs a lot of our work:

• Contact through the senses.

• Emotions (relating to awe and relaxation).

• Appreciation of nature’s beauty.

• Finding meaning in nature.

• Displays of compassion for nature.

Nature Notes is a bit like a nature diary or journal to capture the good things you see in everyday nature. Daily prompts remind you to notice the natural world and can be used as a tool to help you self-manage mental health and wellbeing. It’s really simple to use:

• Take a moment to pause and notice the good things in nature. 

• It could be as simple as noticing a bird singing or the colours and movement of a tree in the breeze - and the joy and calm it brings.

• When you're ready, write a short note in the app about a good thing you noticed in nature. You can include a picture if you like.

• Doing this everyday for a week can provide a month's wellbeing benefit.

• Nature Notes can be used within your home or garden or as part of your local walks and outdoor adventures. 

The amazing thing about nature connection is the more connected to nature you are, the more likely you are to want to preserve it, which is essential in the fight against climate breakdown and biodiversity loss.

Other than inspiring Go Jauntly, what role does walking play in your work as a digital product and service designer?

Walking helps keep me sane. It’s something that is really easy to fit into my crazy busy lifestyle. I am always spinning lots of plates and sadly I am a bit of a workaholic. One day I will be a recovering workaholic and be able to walk a lot more but for now it’s mainly my mental health prop and a place for new ideas. Lots of ideas pop into my head whilst walking, which helps me a lot, as sometimes when you’re chained to the desk, creativity is stifled. I think every walk should be joyful, so I always try to walk the ‘Green Route’ from A to B – to the shops or pharmacy, etc. – every walk should be pleasurable. The 'Green Routes' feature on Go Jauntly is one of my favourites. It helps you walk the leafiest, greenest and least polluted way to and from any location in the UK and Ireland. It's perfect for avoiding busy and polluted streets and getting an extra dose of nature in.

What’s your walking style?

Daily jaunter.

Headphones on or head in the clouds?

A bit of both! Some days, a rage walk might need some music blasting and other days a calm, slow walk where I tune into the birdsong is a must.

What’s your most memorable walk?

The best walk I’ve ever done was in Chirk, Wrexham. It was my first solo hike and it was only a couple of years ago. It was 6 miles which is the furthest distance in one go for me as well. I did it with my dodgy ankle and I had the best time. I was so anxious beforehand. I was worried about being solo, about the unknown, whether I’d make it all the way around but it was fine. More than fine! Previously I was more into shorter walks, ones that I could do with my kid but now I have an urge to do a long distance walk. Now that I know I can do it, I want more.

The Chirk walk is available for free on the Go Jauntly app.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be?

I would like to go for a walk with Audre Lorde. I’m reading Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches at the moment and she is such an incredible woman and her words really stand the test of time for me. She was/is so on point with her observations of society, racism, sexism, patriarchy and capitalism. She was so prescient and it’s kind of shocking to read now in the light of the rise of fascism and billionaire tech bros mimicking feudalism, and I think a walk with her would be enlightening. 

“It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences.”

Audre Lorde, Sister Outsider

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk?
  Water (and my phone!)

• One word to describe how walking makes you feel?
  Wholesome

• One word to describe how you feel about creating tech for good?
  Duty

Finally, please can you share a nature observation or journalling prompt for our readers?

Head out for a walk and note down 3 good things you see in nature. Why are they good? How does it make you feel? What good thing could you do for nature in return?

Thanks for chatting with me, Hana, and for sharing the story behind Go Jauntly, the access challenges that so many people face, and the wellbeing benefits of being more connected with nature.

To find out more, and to try Nature Notes for yourself, you can download the Go Jauntly app for free on iOS or Android. The Nature Notes feature is available on iOS only.

Happy walking and writing until next time,

Sarah

More from The Writer’s Walk

If you enjoyed hearing Hana’s story, you might also enjoy reading about Jen Lowthrop – another entrepreneur who’s championing the benefits of nature and walking.

Jen Lowthrop is a force of nature. She’s so entrepreneurial, energised and enthusiastic that you can’t help feel a renewed sense of optimism after chatting with her.

In life and work, she wears many different hats. She’s worked for charities, walked to raise money to help protect nature, and founded a digital training and consultancy agency, Feel Good Do Good, to help make organisations happier.

Jen and I met as participants on a Change in Nature facilitation training course. During our week of living, sleeping and learning outdoors, where we also did a complete digital detox, we got to know each other a bit and discovered a shared connection through walking and writing. She also took our group through a laughing yoga exercise and every time I think of her I’m reminded of how deliciously ridiculous it felt and how we ended up laughing so much I had a stitch in my stomach for the rest of the day. It was also great to connect with someone who’s worn lots of hats, had a varied career, and has an interesting story to tell as a result. And I’m really happy to be able to share it with you all here.

Ey up, Jen – welcome to The Writer’s Walk. Please tell our readers about yourself

I live in Matlock on the edge of the Peak District, which is where I grew up. I’ve travelled a lot and lived in York and London in England, and California and New Jersey in America, but somehow ended up back home. I wouldn’t have expected it when I was young, but right now there is nowhere else I want to live. 

My work is varied and ever changing. I grew up with two entrepreneurial parents, so after a few years working in the charity and education sector I went freelance, now over 10 years ago. In that time I’ve done a lot of different things from managing a cafe, to being an agile project manager, to a travel blogger, to a UX designer, to happiness trainer, to facilitator, to writer, to strategy consultant. The list goes on. 

I also own and run a small coworking space, Coworking Corner, which brings with it a whole host of other job titles. I’m currently developing my nature facilitation side of the business and have recently started my Substack Where the Wild Things Work.

I love variety. My work and skills are always evolving and no two weeks are the same. 

You’re the Chair of Trustees for the Peak District National Park Foundation. Can you share a bit about the charity and its work, your role and how you got involved?

The Peak District National Park Foundation is a fundraising charity that was set up to raise money to support our National Park. We bring in money which then goes straight back out again to projects around climate mitigation, habitat restoration, accessible pathways and connecting more people and communities to nature. 

I’ve been Chair since we started in 2018 and have absolutely loved it. I’ve been a trustee and Chair of various charities over the years and when my partner saw this one advertised I knew I had to apply. I’ve learnt a lot more about how our National Parks are run and feel more passionate than ever about the importance of access for all in our green spaces. Nature brings so many benefits to us all. Though I know I am preaching to the converted with you :)

You’re a certified happiness trainer – hat tip for having the best job title ever – can you tell me a bit more about that?

Haha! I do love this title. I did a happiness training course a few years ago and have enjoyed sharing workshops and training with people alongside using the skills I learnt myself. It links really closely with my nature facilitation work too. I know I’m happiest when out on a walk in nature.

You’ve done some really long walks for charity, including ‘A Walk In The Parks’ where you hiked 1000 miles across 10 UK National Parks in 10 weeks, raising more than £10k for the Peak District National Park Foundation along the way. What challenges did you face and did they change, or enhance, your relationship with walking and nature?

Cows and blisters! They were my two main challenges. I had a couple of scary run-ins with cows and I lost count of the number of blisters. I still haven’t mastered the art of not getting blisters, I think I have tried everything, but always open to ideas.

It sounds a cliche but I do think all that time outside changed me. I had so many moments where I thought ‘Yes, this is what I am meant to be doing’ and feeling truly content and happy. I did earn a small amount along my hike through my blog and brand partnerships, but sadly not enough to live off, so I haven’t mastered the art of hiking forever yet. I tried to persuade my partner we should sell up and just go for a walk and see how long we could keep going, but he wasn’t convinced.

You can read a bit more about my hike on my blog She Gets Around.

What advice can you share for anyone wanting to take on their own hiking challenge?

My main piece of advice is that our bodies are capable of far more than we think. There were definitely a few people who didn’t think I would manage it, including myself. But determination and my body got me through. My physio helped with a training plan and her advice was ‘you will do it whatever, but training will make it more enjoyable’ I took my training seriously and built up my mileage over a period of weeks. That said, I never did anything close to what I did on the actual hike, but I really do think the training helped. 

You often walk with your rescue dog, Cookie (who’s adorable, by the way). What challenges and joys does that bring?

Cookie is the best. I honestly couldn’t have done my big hike without her. But in many ways she made the hike harder. The cows probably wouldn’t have been so inquisitive if she hadn’t been there, and finding dog friendly places to stay made things more tricky and expensive. I also had to carry all her food and kit which made my bag heavier. However, all of those things were worth it. She had to go home for a week when it was too hot and she got a thorn in her paw. I missed her so much. I realised how much I talked to her. We became really close on the hike and looked out for each other. 

You’ve been writing a travel and hiking blog since 2011. How do you balance your adventures with time for writing?

I still haven’t quite mastered the mythical balance in freelance life and managing so many different projects and roles. Some days I feel I have it sorted and then it all falls apart again. On my hike I planned on writing in the evenings, but I had completely underestimated how tired I would be. Most days I finished hiking, ate an early dinner and went to bed. 

In day to day life I tend to separate where I write and where I do my other work. Last summer I renovated our shed into a writing shed and I love it there. It currently doesn’t have heating or power though, so I haven’t used it as much over the winter. 

What role does walking play in your writing life?

I get some of my best ideas when I’m walking. I can write entire articles or blog posts in my head. Then I sit down and it all disappears! I have a lot of voice notes in my phone from my hike. I’m in the very early stages of writing a book about ‘A Walk in the Parks’ and I’m looking forward to listening back to my ramblings. 

What’s your walking style?

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

I would definitely say Happy Hiker. Though that wasn’t always the case. I still sometimes have to drag myself out, but I can honestly say I have never regretted a hike.

Headphones on or head in the clouds when you’re hiking?

I thought I would listen to loads of podcasts on my hike but I listened to a grand total of two! I love a podcast while walking, but walking on my usual routes around home versus completely new places I don’t know is very different. I find I want to have my wits about me and prefer to listen to nature along the way… and talk to Cookie.

That said, I did a loop walk the other day and listened to an Action for Happiness episode about Finding Hope in Difficult Times. It was just what I needed to listen to. The world is heavy right now and I’m working to find the joy and hope amongst it all. Podcasts like this one definitely help. 

Can you tell me about the most memorable walk you’ve ever done?

If I say the whole 1000 miles that would probably be cheating right? One of my most entertaining days was when my friends Andy and Gosia joined me with their two kids. I had told them the route but there were crossed wires and apparently two different ‘coastal routes’ in Exmoor National Park. They’d brought a double buggy and were sure it would be fine. What followed was an entertaining few hours of hiking along a very narrow coastal route, lifting the buggy over styles, pushing up steep paths and making sure we didn’t drop the kids down into the sea. 

I’ve honestly never laughed so much. It was funny I promise. When we made it to the end there was a sign that said ‘Coastal Path’ and ‘Rugged Coastal Path’. You can guess which one we took. My friends were great and said they enjoyed it and it beat spending a Sunday sitting on the sofa at home. Definitely a memorable one for us all. I just hope I haven’t put the kids off walks for life!

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

This might sound wild but right now I think I would say Donald Trump. Stay with me… I truly believe spending time in nature changes us and sometimes we need to keep our ‘enemies closer’. Probably wildly naive but I would love to see if I could perhaps change his decisions on things. Especially the recent sackings of National Park Rangers in America… though there are lots more things to talk about with him. What can I say… I am an optimist!

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk? 
  Blister plasters

• One word to describe how walking makes you feel?
  Content

• One word to describe your work as a charity trustee?
  Varied

One last thing before I let you get back to your hike – can you share a walking-inspired writing prompt for our readers?

Write a short story or poem from the perspective of your feet on a walk.

Thanks so much for chatting with me, Jen. I feel buoyed up by your optimism and enthusiasm – and inspired by your ability to listen calmly to people who hold opposing views to yours. I’m not sure I’d have the courage to walk with Donald Trump, but I do think that if we stop listening to each other then we’re only going to widen the divides rather than find the common ground that connects us. Walking with someone in nature can open up conversations that might never happen online or in a boardroom – as I constantly keep discovering through The Writer’s Walk. So thank you for that reminder.

And I’m glad to hear that I’m not alone in writing entire pieces in my head when I walk but then not writing them down! I love your idea of using voice notes to get around that – it’s a great tip that I think will help many of our readers, too.

If you want to keep up with Jen’s adventures, you can subscribe to her new Substack Where the Wild Things Work and follow her on Instagram. Oh, and if you have any words of wisdom on how to navigate cows and blisters, please let us know!

Happy walking and writing until next time,

Sarah

More from The Writer’s Walk

If you enjoyed hearing Jen’ story you might also enjoy the interview I had with Barrie Thomson of Feast and Fables, who shared the superpower we can all tap into: encouragement.

Tim Rich is a writer and communications consultant whose impressive 30-year career spans journalism, publishing, ghostwriting and commercial writing.

He’s helped leaders communicate through periods of profound change, including crisis, and his writing includes everything from a New York Times Bestselling book to comms strategies, company visions and values, manifestos, brand narratives, websites, and tone of voice programmes.

Tim and I met on a Dark Angels Masterclass at Merton College, Oxford where we partnered with another participant to invent a new word1. As chance would have it, we discovered we were neighbours, which gave us the chance to get to know each other over the 12 years since we met.

Tim’s an incredible writer – both in his commercial work and poetry – and also one of the calmest and kindest people I know. He was an early encourager of The Writer’s Walk and offered me his ear when I was first thinking of launching this endeavour. So it’s a true pleasure to share his story here.

Hi Tim, thanks for chatting with me. We’ve known each other for a long time, so for the benefit of our readers, please introduce yourself

Sarah, thank you for inviting me on The Writer’s Walk.

I grew up in the wilds of the Sussex Weald, then lived in London for decades. Now I’m by the sea, in Hastings.

I started as a magazine journalist, writing about design, advertising and photography – an early break that I still give thanks for, often. I got my first editorship at 24, under a brilliant ex-Fleet Street managing editor. That position forced me to learn fast and edit like an assassin.

By my early 30s, I’d had enough of managing people rather than writing, so I moved into copywriting and wrote a magazine column. Since then, I’ve added other types of commercial writing to my skills, from speechwriting to book ghostwriting and editing.

I hugely enjoy writing for other people – it’s a fabulous job – but poetry is my one true writing love. Of which more later, I think.

Your commercial writing career spans a wide-range of forms – from telling brand stories and helping CEOs communicate during times of crisis to speeches and ghostwriting. Is there a common thread to these different formats and styles of writing?

The common thread is the process: I obsess about the client’s readers or audience. Who are they? Why should they care about us? What do we want them to think, feel or do as a result of reading our words? I work hard to be a strong connecting point between the two. The rest is structure.

If you know how to listen closely and are adept with the elements of style, you can write across many different formats. Just add a sprinkle of confidence, I guess. My first professional speechwriting job was for a CEO in the midst of the world’s biggest news story. I knew I could create what was needed, even though I’d never written a speech before.

In recent years you’ve moved from commercial writing to poetry and photography – often combining the two. When creating this way, what comes first – is it a word or phrase that you later pair with the right photo, or does the imagery steer your words?

With my poems, it usually starts with a phrase I see or that springs into my mind. Then, it’s as if the raw poem wants to move through me and I must invite it in and give it shape. To rework a line from Mary Oliver’s poem Wild Geese, ‘the world offers itself to your imagination.’ If I start with ‘I’m now going to write a poem about topic x,’ it rarely goes well – the words feel forced.

With my photographs, it’s about noticing small details in the margins of our world – perhaps something weathered or unloved. I’m an unschooled, instinctive taker of lo-fi images, and I don’t feel comfortable saying ‘I am a photographer’. That noun is heavy. The verb-led phrase ‘I take photographs’ feels about right.

If I combine a poem and image, it’s usually because there’s some resonance between them after I’ve made the work. I’m not interested in photographs illustrating words or words captioning images; I’m looking for a mutual exchange of energy. With my Landfall series, shown at The Bloomsbury Festival, the photographs of upturned boat hulls came first. Then, one night, a film voiceover sounded in my head and, ultimately, that turned into a poem. I suppose those hulls had something more to say.

You’re a very fine poet – and I think many people might consider brand writing and poetry as two very different things. Do they feel different to you, or are there places where the two connect?

Thank you; that means a lot coming from you.

Is it simplistic to say brand writing is to poetry as design is to art? One has a function or objective, the other has a dizzying but precious freedom.

Great brand writing shows how words can connect with millions of people, many of whom might not think of themselves as readers. You find vibrancy and down-to-earth wit in copywriting – especially good ad copy. Brand writers are also adept at transforming something complex, like a large organisation or a breakthrough in science, into clear, useful content. It’s helpful for poets to see how a writer can get inside something so practical and huge, then compact its essence into a few simple words.

On the other side, brand writers can make use of how poetic elements such as rhythm, intense concision, metre and metaphor shape a reader’s experience. For example, a poem can be a profoundly intimate and moving exchange between two strangers. Poetry opens us to the entire universe of language and how you can do extraordinary things with words – beautiful, loving, sensuous, unsettling, argumentative, wilful, revealing, unifying, subversive, strange, kind things. Poetry starts with the infinite, then you bring in constraints to give it form. This is something the Dark Angels courses teach so cleverly.

It’s been a joy to see your poetry come to life over the last few years. Your poems unfurl gently – as if you’ve written them to be read slowly and savoured. Is that intentional, or is it something that happened naturally as you worked on your craft?

That’s interesting to hear, Sarah, especially your sense of unfurling – a lovely metaphor. There are a few poems of mine that start fast and sharp but, now you’ve said it, many do have a softer beginning, yes.

I am taken with the idea of inviting a reader into the world of the poem, rather than throwing them in headfirst. This might be a subconscious desire to get away from the din of attention-grabbing language in our culture.

You’ve brought to mind a poem of mine that was published recently in the American journal Stone Circle Review. It’s called Retreat and begins:

I wanted to live quietly

in a white stone cottage

far down an unhelpful track

that twists and dips low

into old black woods so

unbidden guests will turn

back on themselves ...

It’s an unfurling, of sorts – I start by sounding rather forbidding but keep implicitly inviting the reader to walk further down that track with me. The poem goes on to ask questions about the cost of retreating into ourselves. I bet many of the readers of The Writer’s Walk will recognise this tidal push and pull: the need to connect with others, so you keep growing, but also the desire to be alone and free to imagine, to create, to simply be.

What piece of writing are you most proud of, and why?

There’s a poem called ‘Blue’ that has come to hold significance for me. It was included in the anthology Dark Angels: Three Contemporary Writers (Paekakariki Press) and has now been seen thousands of times online. So, jays are a special bird for my wife, Lesley, and me. One or more often appear at important moments, and we’ve learnt to pause whatever we’re doing and take in this presence. The poem is partly about leaving space for small wonders to visit your day, and I’m delighted it has found so many readers.

Has walking ever played a role in your writing life? If so, how?

Yes, I’ve often taken short walks to clear my writing head and long walks to think about a big new project. I’m just reading about how the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, when he was writing The Wanderer and his Shadow, might walk for up to eight hours a day alone. I would often go out all day, deliberately following the most obscure footpaths I could find or wandering around industrial areas. But then something happened to change all that.

I’m guessing this is when you were diagnosed with ME/CFS?

That’s right, and I’m aware this is a condition you know very well. I was hit by a virus in 2019; by mid-2020 I was knocked flat. Since then, I’ve been making a very, very, very gentle recovery. But I can’t walk far yet – if I edge even 1% over my energy limit I go into an utterly awful crash that may last for days.

Now, instead of striding far and fast, I go slowly and take in more of what’s around me. I’ve started to see how much both light and temperature change on just a short walk. You strike up more conversations and meet dogs, cats, foxes, badgers, horses, birds. I’ve just noticed that a handsome crow spends hours each day sitting – almost still – on a neighbour’s balcony. At first, I thought it was a decoy bird.

I saw that, in your conversation with Sarah Jane Butler, she said she has ME/CFS too. She makes the point that ‘writing poetry is great if you’re not well. It’s short and you can keep coming back to it and see it new each time.’ That’s so well said; it’s why writing and reading poetry can be a godsend for creative people with chronic conditions. More broadly, I’ve learnt to edit my day ruthlessly, so I focus on the important things.

What’s your walking style – headphones or head in the clouds?

In the clouds, face towards the sun, leaving space for things to come.

What’s your most memorable walk?

In Sussex, there’s a huge area of fields and woodlands that has been rewilded over decades. Some rarely used footpaths wend through, getting you close to the most wonderful array of plants and animals, a river, and a lake. Before I fell ill, I did a whole day’s walk there with two old school friends, and it was a perfect little adventure, including having time to really talk to each other. We only passed one person. If someone would like to know where this tiny paradise is, they’re welcome to drop me a line. It’s near a train station.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be?

I love exploring a new village or town with Lesley, just slowly seeing what we encounter, perhaps doing some benign trespassing. Same if we find a riverbank to explore, or a hidden beach. I especially love Pett Level at low tide and the wild coastline of the Mani Peninsula in Greece – a country I know you have a deep connection with too. If I was to add a guest to those wanderings, it might be the American writer Camille Paglia; we met her a few years back, and she’s brilliant company. Maybe we three stop at a remote pub on our walk and run into a motley group of poets playing bar billiards – perhaps W. B. Yeats, Mary Oliver, Louise Glück, John Donne, Kabir.

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk?
  Anticipation

• One word to describe how you feel about writing?
  Energy

• One word to describe how you feel about photography?
  Noticing

Can you share a walking- or photography-inspired writing prompt for our readers?

This Unloved Thing

• Take a very slow walk, looking out for something odd, ugly, weathered or abandoned

• Make notes about the thing while you’re with it (sketch or photograph too, if you like)

• As you’re doing this, imagine how you might convey the character or essence of this thing to a friend

• As soon as you get home, give yourself 25 minutes to write a short poem of 10 lines about the thing – write freely, don’t try to perfect it

• Make a cup of something delicious

• Give yourself 25 minutes to edit your piece

• Immediately, send your words to a good friend and invite them on a walk

Sarah, thank you again for inviting me on. I thought it might be appropriate to end by sharing a new poem of mine that features walking.

The Long Lanes by Tim Rich  

We used the word tramp of him
and it was the walking we meant:
the freedom to move on again, not
his stained tarpaulin hedge-tent or 
bus shelter naps, snoring under rain

Grandma, who seemed to know more
than she was saying, did once remark
Well, at least those old shoes of his
bring seeds from across the county
so, then

when I saw flowers and herbs
growing by the paths he took
   rampions, hawkbits, eyebright, clover
   pimpernel, poppies, fennel and thyme
I thought of him as a quiet gardener
of the long lanes, fresh ideas of colour
falling from his cracked boots

He’s dead now, of course she said
years later, while chopping rhubarb
from her council plot, and I wondered
had he been found somewhere
or did he simply never return?

Thanks Tim, this has been the loveliest of chats and you’ve been so thoughtful with your answers to my questions – and incredibly generous to share one of your poems here.

Tim’s poems are available through Paekakariki Press and if you’d like to buy a print of his poem, Landfall you can get in touch with him direct.

I’ll leave you with this invite to walk, in Tim’s words, with your ‘head in the clouds, face towards the sun, leaving space for things to come’.

Happy walking and writing until next time.

Sarah

More from The Writer’s Walk

If, like Tim, you want to walk slowly to take in what’s around you, you might enjoy this post about walking in silence.

Susannah Marriott is author of 24 books, translated into 17 languages. She’s edited more than 60 titles for authors including BKS Iyengar, Mary Quant, Penelope Leach, Elizabeth Luard and Anna Pavord, and ghostwritten more. Her writing has appeared in The Guardian, The Times, The Telegraph, Daily Record and You, and she’s broadcast on BBC Radio 4. She’s a graduate of UEA.

She co-founded Professional Writing Academy, with Christina Bunce, in 2012, and John Yorke Story in 2016, to make world-class writing education and story training accessible across the globe. Professional Writing Academy clients include Faber Academy, Granta, New Writing North and Jericho Writers. And with John Yorke Story Susannah’s devised narrative training for companies including BBC, Channel 4, Discovery, Disney and many TV, film and video-game production companies.

Susannah also taught narrative non-fiction on the MA Professional Writing at Falmouth University, which is where she and I met. After I graduated, she and Christina invited me to help them at Professional Writing Academy, where I spent several years facilitating online writing courses for Faber Academy, John Yorke Story and more.

Susannah was one of my first writing teachers and her guidance and encouragement set me on the path to becoming a professional writer. She was also an early supporter of The Writer’s Walk, so it makes me very happy to be able to share her story here.

Hi Susannah and welcome to The Writer’s Walk – please tell our readers about yourself

Hi Sarah – so great to be chatting to you. I’m from a post-industrial mining village in Somerset – quite grim! I was desperate to leave to find a tribe of people who shared my creative passions. At that time, I was the lone saddo who had to take her mum to see Derek Jarman films. I failed my A levels, but amazingly ended up at UEA while Malcolm Bradbury was there, and had the privilege of studying with Lorna Sage. From there, I ended up in London for 20 years, living on Murder Mile in pre-gentrification Clapton.

I had three beautiful daughters there, then when I heard Massive Attack for the first time I knew I had to head back west, and fled to Cornwall (where my family are from) to bring up the girls.

After 12 years, and weeks before the pandemic, we moved to Bristol. I missed city life, and love being back in a place where within a 10-minute walk you can buy Brazilian records, bunches of herbs and left-field books.

How did you get into writing?

I started out as a non-fiction book editor, and moved into commissioning, developing lists and new authors for various publishers. When I went freelance after having children, another commissioner said ‘you know how these books work – would you write one yourself?'. Terrifying but still my fave project – Beads of Faith, a collaboration on rosaries and prayer beads with Muslim scholar Gray Henry. I got to work with the brilliantly erudite Rowan Williams.

From there I went on to write my own books on yoga, meditation and well-being, and to ghostwrite for names in the yoga and well-being world. My absolute favourite book moments – sitting in Mary Quant’s office taking down words of wisdom for a book we were working on (I was a bit late as I decided my outfit didn’t work and I had to find the perfect jacket before the meeting – Ann Demeulemeester, still my go-to garment for those kinds of gigs). Another high, sitting in the office of yoga guru BKS Iyengar in Pune as students fell to their knees to kiss his feet while he chuckled away about his book ideas. Total hero. Oh, and dropping Dizzy Gillespie’s horn while working on a jazz book at New Orleans Jazz Museum.

What drew you to teaching writing?

Writing was great, but I missed the development side of things – finding a great idea, pairing it with the perfect writer, then moulding things to create something ideal for its readership. After moving to Cornwall and meeting Christina Bunce, who was running the MA in Professional Writing at Falmouth Uni, I ended up teaching non-fiction and editing, and supervising research projects into the publishing industry. The joy of working with new writers with such sparky ideas and having the space to develop book ideas without being knocked back by jaded industry people – so inspiring!

The Professional Writing Academy is a digital learning platform for writers and creatives with community at its heart. How did you and your co-founder Christina Bunce get the idea?

I met Christina on a beach a few weeks into the freelance life in Cornwall. She’s a force of nature so within a few more weeks she’d persuaded me to write modules on non-fiction and editing for the writing masters at Falmouth, and then as if by magic I had an actual fractional job as a Senior Lecturer. Such a privilege.

We could see where academia was heading, and while there was still money in the system spent a couple of years trialing and testing online pedagogy and platforms, and built an amazing online MA – the first fully online writing masters in the world – which launched in 2009. Within months the course was the biggest recruiting writing MA in the world.

Sadly, the university didn’t think there was a future in online learning, so we left and set up on our own as Professional Writing Academy. Our first client was Faber Academy – we devised, set up and ran their online offering for 11 years. We’re now working with Granta on memoir, nature writing, short fiction and long-read journalism courses. We host the flagship Jericho Writers online course and work with New Writing North on a talent pipeline for writers in the north of England. We also run John Yorke Story – teaching narrative skills, based on John’s bestselling book on story, Into The Woods. It’s a constant joy.

Our mission has always been to take world-class writing education to people in places where it’s difficult to access such things (I think about growing up in a place where there were only a few buses out a day, even if you could afford them). And to work with talent that might not otherwise get access – a highlight was setting up a fiction course for writers in Pakistan, with the brilliant Awais Khan.

You’re a yoga teacher and sea swimmer, and movement is a key part of your life and wellbeing – not to mention being a world away from your digital work. What role does walking play in your working, writing or creative practice?

I have to move – I get my very best ideas while cycling, swimming, dancing, gardening, cycling. Got a creative problem to solve? Take it for a walk...

From being a London cyclist, after moving to Cornwall I didn't get on my bike for 12 years – country lanes are just too scary. So now in Bristol I'm back on my bike. I love the freedom and the way it wipes out all other thoughts (especially on the city’s many hills).

But yoga is the biggest part of my week. I really don’t feel myself if my yoga life gets interrupted (I guard it fiercely). I returned to Iyengar yoga l (where I started out) when I moved to Bristol and its world-class teachers, and for me the precision and rigour informs every other aspect of my work and creative life. Keeps you absolutely in the moment, focused and switched on yet also switched out of your head and anchored in your body. It’s like nothing else, and the best bit is the older you get, the better you get at it.

How would you describe your walking style?

I would say I’m an urban rambler. After 12 years living in the middle of nowhere (nearest neighbour a couple of donkeys), I’m a bit over country lanes and cliff hikes. Nothing's more thrilling than walking over the common at the end of our road down into a buzzing city.

I know you love all things jazz, but when it comes to walking is it headphones or head in the clouds for you?

Nothing – I need my ears open to the elements to stay tuned in to the world. I’m an aging Dingwalls alum – if you know the jazz-dance world you’ll understand. But if I listen I have to dance, which is a bit tricky while walking.

My top listen (at the moment) would be this collaboration between Gal Costa, Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil: Temporada De Verão she kicks everything off and then they head off into increasingly crazy worlds – each tune better than the last – before she reigns it all back in at the end. That would soundtrack a good walk I think. Strangely, it’s not too expensive on Discogs either.

Tell me about the best, weirdest or funniest walk you’ve ever done.

It was on Lundy Island during a storm. We got trapped there for a few days – no boats would do the trip back to the mainland – in a castle on the southern tip of the island. You could actually sit down in the wind it was so fierce, but we were determined to walk, and so four of us hung on to each other in a row to stay upright. We explored every inch of the island that way, very slowly, tied together, over a few days. Totally inside nature.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

My three daughters – they all live in London now, so having them with me all together is the best thing in the world. We’d ideally be walking towards Roman ruins or a small town museum filled with wax dummies and lace.

One word round

• One word to describe how you feel about walking? 
  Necessary.

• One word to describe how you feel about writing?
  Agonising.

• One word to describe how you feel about teaching writing?
  Joyous!

Can you share a walking-inspired writing prompt for our readers?

Walk to a bookshop and immerse yourself in actual physical books. Look at their formats and extents, the quality of the paper and the flaps, the choice of image and fonts. Take notes on what inspires you to create – it might be a few lines of prose or the spine of a book or an author photograph or something else that jumps out and speaks to you as you browse.

Thanks for chatting with me, Susannah, and for sharing your walking, dancing, writing and teaching story. I’ve added one of the tracks from Temporada De Verão to The Writer’s Walk Spotify Playlist (sadly, some of the tracks are not on Spotify).

And what a fab writing prompt! There’s nothing better than flipping through the pages of a physical book, so I’m sure our readers will enjoy it.

Happy walking and writing until next time,

Sarah

More from The Writer’s Walk

If you love dancing as much as Susannah, you might enjoy this post, which has a musically themed writing prompt.

Sarah Jane Butler is a self-proclaimed slow writer. For 30 years, she worked as a copywriter – crafting words for other people. But alongside her professional practice she was also writing fiction – writing poems and publishing short stories, while taking time and care to write her first novel, Starling, published by Fairlight Books.

We met many years ago through our membership of writers’ organisation 26. And although we share a connection through our mutual love of writing, we’d never had a deep and meaningful chat about it. So after reading Starling and seeing how walking in nature is threaded through the story and the main character’s life, I just had to know more. We chatted about where she got the idea for the story, her connection with the Sussex landscape, and its role in both her life and creativity.

Hi Sarah, thanks for chatting with me – please tell The Writer’s Walk readers about yourself

I’m Sarah Jane Butler, and I’m a writer. That sounds like a confession but really it’s a statement of utter joy – I love being a writer. But for most of my working life, I wrote for other people – I’d have said I was an editor or a copywriter – and I wrote my own stories in tiny fragments of my life. For more than thirty years work came first. 

Copywriting taught me so much, not least never to be precious about any word I’d written, and that I can always write something no matter what else is going on. And good listening. I had the amazing privilege of working with voluntary organisations alongside people with complex, challenging stories that it was my job to tell. It was brilliant for so long. But now I’m relearning how to bring a little chaos into my writing – so many years of imposing other people’s order, even in the liveliest copy, had begun to hem me in. I’m loving the freedom of writing for myself at last, age 61.

I’ve lived in the same small village in East Sussex for almost thirty years, and I grew up nearby so I’m deeply rooted in this landscape. It’s a place of deep-sided valleys, woods and tiny odd-shaped fields, with streams and springs everywhere. It’s very important to me and I help lead our local wildlife group, working with farmers and residents to protect and rebuild our biodiversity. And I’m part of the core team of Project Ripple Effect, a citizen science project run by University of Sussex and Friends of the River Medway - we set it up in 2023 and have about 30 volunteers out testing the river for chemical pollutants and invertebrates. It’s been so good to do something practical and positive with other people and to learn about the river – beneath the surface it’s even more miraculous than I could have dreamed. Mayfly larvae are my new star creatures! 

When I’m not doing that I’m probably growing vegetables in the garden, cooking, or snoozing. I do a lot of snoozing. Or chilling with my friends and family – I live with my husband, and our two grown children, a brand new grandchild and our mums all live within an hour of home. It can get quite busy so I take great care to carve out time on my own – that’s vital for my sanity and my writing.

Your fiction debut was Starling – a beautiful story about a young woman who lives a nomadic existence, travelling in a converted van with Mar, her strong-willed mother until Mar leaves without explanation while Starling is out foraging one morning. It’s a magnificent ode to living a life at one with nature. How did you get the idea for it?

It’s hard to pinpoint one starting point for Starling but I had a picture in my mind very early on of a young woman walking away from something painful and frightening. She was in a landscape that I felt I knew. I didn’t know who she was back then but her story was always going to be set in the natural world. It’s so rich and offers a writer like me so many opportunities to reveal character. It’s also what I know best – I haven’t lived in a town since 1986!

I also knew I wanted to explore what it might be like to grow up with a radical and tricky parent. We need people who are uncompromising and who tell us the truths we try to hide from – I’ve long admired human rights defenders for their courage and determination, protectors of the natural world too. But how do their children feel when their parent puts a cause before them? Mar is utterly unbending in her commitment to living lightly on the planet, in a way that I’m not, though I admire her in some ways. It’s not easy to be that relentless. I’ve made compromises, as most of us do – so I like to question those decisions. 

Mar is an uncomfortable character so it was important to me to have others, equally committed to living well with the earth, who were easier to connect to – though even Em isn’t perfect. I’m never interested in perfect people! 

Many years ago I was extremely lost walking in a mid-winter forest in South Wales. I was with a friend and we’d quite simply forgotten how early the sun set in January, and we found ourselves in the pitch dark with no idea how to get back to our base. We saw a small flickering light in the trees and followed it to a bender made of poles and tarpaulins in the heart of the wood. We called out. The young woman who lived there invited us in – her bender was a place of warmth and beauty, big enough for a double bed, a burner, rugs and places to sit in the silence of the forest. She was due to give birth in a few days, and the midwife was going to come out to her there in the woods. I had a one-year-old and was awestruck, a little bit jealous, and also glad to be going back home to running water and electricity. That young woman planted the real seed for the story of Starling and her community, I suspect. There are always other ways to live, if we’re brave enough.

You took several years to write Starling. What did you learn along the way?

So much! I knew absolutely nothing about writing a novel when I started. I’d written short stories and kept finding myself trying to write new ones but they always grew out of proportion so I knew I wanted to tell something bigger and more sprawling that I couldn't fit into a short story without ruining it.

I did masses of research and wrote the opening of Starling so many times. I just couldn’t get any further. In the end I signed up for a three-month online novel-writing course with the Unthank School of Writing and it saved me because – as well as helping me think about how a novel might work – I was forced every week to move on and write something new. I had to stop polishing the same old phrases, which is eminently satisfying if you love playing with words, but you’ll never write a novel that way.

I was unwell for significant chunks of the nine years it took from first notes to the publication of Starling. I have ME and it became much worse part way through so I had to take a year off work and writing. For long stretches I also had caring responsibilities for several people in my family and they always came first, though it was really important to me to keep thinking about Starling and to write when I could, no matter what else was happening – writing, and thinking about writing, helped me to stay sane in some difficult times.

I learned too that writing poetry is great if you’re not well. It’s short and you can keep coming back to it and see it new each time. And because it’s at once so condensed and so open, it’s like an explosion in your other writing – if you’ve just written a poem your prose is going to be so much more alive.

You’re working on a second book. Can you tells us what it’s about?

This book is non-fiction, and its working title in my notebooks is very prosaic: River Book, though we know that will change as I find my way into it.

River Book is about how, despite my lifelong connection with the river Medway (my Dad was the river engineer when I was a baby, and I lived beside it as a young woman) I began to question my belonging there after years of spending less time in and on the water. We no longer lived beside the river and my health meant I often didn’t have the energy to swim or kayak. I felt that I no longer had the right to say I had a place there. I wanted to think about this – what does it actually mean to feel you belong somewhere, or don't? So I travelled very slowly from my home in the Medway's upper catchment all the way to the estuary – I walked, swam, paddled and cycled over 18 months – and by the end I’d found a river community that welcomed me, and so many people with interesting and complicated relationships with rivers. So I’m writing from my own experience of knowing a river in many ways and exploring humans’ connections and disconnections to rivers, looking at river lives across the world and through time. 

You describe yourself as a slow writer. What does that mean for you, and do you have any tips on embracing the ‘slow movement?’

I’m not a slow person by nature and I’ve had to learn to take things slowly. What this mostly means is that I work really intensively for short bursts. I can write about 500 new words a day and if I try to write more for consecutive days I start churning out blandness. (Obviously I used to write a lot more when I was creating copy.) For ages I felt inadequate because the internet is full of people crowing about their massive daily word counts, but I’m happy to be slow. I've realised that loads of writers I admire work to more or less the same rhythm as I do – I think that if you are creating work that’s driven by character rather than plot, and has a certain richness of language, writing slowly works well. It definitely does for me. 

Writing slowly means I have time to get into a flow and let the words come, to explore the language and metaphor for every scene. I like to visualise myself in a scene as I write it, as if I were a film camera: what is my mind’s eye highlighting at this particular moment for my characters? And I consciously ask myself what emotions the characters are feeling right now in this scenario. It’s going to be interesting writing non-fiction but I think I’m still going to bring that visual and emotional approach to each scene – I want readers to feel something when they read about Dave and Margaret, living in their 80s above their abandoned riverside restaurant that was destroyed in a massive flood years before. They can’t leave – no one would buy it. And they fear and love the river in equal measure, seeing daily the mark Dave made on the wall downstairs to show how high the waters rose, far above his head.

I need space away from the words. Once I’ve got the day’s words down, I let them simmer. They might have thrown up a question about a character’s motivation, or what two people are going to say when they finally meet, or why I’m interested in exploring something. I’ll ask myself a question, go for a walk or lie on my sofa, and see what comes into my mind. That’s just as vital to my writing process as actually putting words on the page. And in fact I’m absolutely fine with taking days or even weeks away from my writing. I’ve always come back with new perspectives and ideas that have made my writing richer.

I take time out to read and meet people too, and to go to galleries and plays. It can look like I’m slacking and running away from my desk, but even if my writing isn’t in the forefront of my mind when I’m doing something else, those encounters so often spark ideas or challenge me to think again. 

Your character Starling leaves the van she’s always called home and walks away to build a new life for herself. It feels like walking is a thread that runs through her story, so I wondered what role walking plays in your writing and life?

Starling makes two significant journeys on foot that more or less bookend her story, and they’re quite different emotionally although both times she’s walking alone through the natural world. I loved exploring how she’d interact with the landscape on each journey – how days of rain would make her feel, for example, or encountering strangers. Walking is the best way I know to be fully in a landscape because it allows you to pay close attention, and to experience it with all your senses if you let it. That’s why it’s such a great place to explore characters.

I walk every day if I can. Mostly I walk from my house into the fields and woods around my village, often going no more than a mile or two because my energy is limited by living with ME. I’ve had ME for almost 30 years and these days it reduces how long I can walk for quite significantly. As a young woman I surged about the landscape, often running, always pushing myself to go as far as I could. But I noticed far less than I do now. I can take an hour to walk a mile, because I’ll examine the plants, stop and listen to the wind, sit on a stile and watch a kestrel hover. I couldn’t have written the details of the natural world that Starling is immersed in if I didn’t have this experience myself.

There are times when I can’t walk, and it’s very hard. I never take it for granted, and am filled with joy when I’m well again and able to step out of my front door. Walking is central to my happiness, and it’s where I think too – it’s right at the heart of my writing life.

How would you describe your walking style:

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

Hmm. Maybe Slow Savourer?

Headphones or head in the clouds?

Definitely head in the clouds – mostly my mind’s full of words so there’s no room for anything else, and if it isn’t I want to savour the silence!

What’s the most memorable walk you’ve ever done?

Oh, it’s hard to pick. But I think I’ll choose a day I spent in the hills behind Kilchoan on the Ardnamurchan peninsula on the west coast of Scotland, because it made me so deeply happy. We were camping there by the sea’s edge and my husband set off for a couple of days’ sea kayaking. A boy in a nearby tent and I had been talking about the nature around us – he was about 14 and wonderfully knowledgable, far more so than I. He came over to tell me he’d found sundews – a native carnivorous plant – up a track behind the village. I’d know it by the blue twine around the gatepost, and from there I should simply head uphill. So I packed some food and set off, climbing quite steeply – and there they were, scattered all over the hill – tiny golden discs fringed with scarlet tendrils, each dotted with a sticky dew to entrap a passing insect. It was a complete surprise and I’d never have known if that boy hadn’t told me where to look. 

I kept going up the hill, beyond the paths, till I reached a small summit and sat to eat my lunch. Kilchoan is the furthest west you can go on the British mainland, I think, and I could see sea on three sides – over the sound to Tobermory on Mull to my south, out to Tiree in the far western distance, over the small islands of Eigg and Rùm to the high ridges of Skye to the north, and inland to the shades of Ben Nevis to the east. And below me, a small lake.

I’d seen no one all day and all I could hear was the wind in the grasses so I clambered down the hill to the water’s edge. It didn’t matter that I’d brought no towel or costume: who was going to see me? And I didn’t care if anyone did – it felt utterly natural to strip and enter the water in my skin alone. The water was only just deep enough, but I swam, surrounded by golden hills under the late afternoon sun until the chill began to find me.

It’s over five years since that day and I treasure it still for its beauty, wildness and freedom. 

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

I’d go down to the river with my Dad. He was the river engineer when I was a child, and he’s right at the heart of my river book but we never had the chance to really talk about what the river meant to him because he died a few years ago after a very long time of living with dementia. He loved the beauty of the river, and painted it, but he didn’t know much about its wildlife – he had books about concrete and could get emotional about a beautiful bridge but birds, fish and insects weren’t his thing. We had the river in common though, and I still paddle the wooden open canoe he made. I’d love to walk the river with him and hear his lifetime of its stories.

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk? 
  Phone (I take lots of photos of plants)

• One thing you always do on a walk?
  Talk (to myself)

• One word of advice for aspiring fiction writers?
  Read (widely, critically and analytically)

Can you share a walking-inspired writing prompt for our readers?

Go for a walk in your character’s shoes. Walk with their gait and energy and let go of those inhibitions! Ask them questions, hear how they answer, notice what they see. When you get back, take your character for a walk on the page. Find the splinters of light on your character’s inner life that your walk in their shoes has shown you.

Thanks for sharing your writing experience with us, Sarah. I loved hearing about how you explore your characters by exploring the landscape you walk in. There’s a lot to be said about being a slow writer – and slow walker!

Happy walking and writing until next time,

Sarah

More from The Writer’s Walk

If you enjoy the idea of a slow stroll, you might also like this post.

How do I describe Mike Abrahams? In his own words: he’s an “artist, athlete and occasional designer”. In my eyes, he’s one of those rare creatives who takes their inspiration from words, type, text and language. Much of his work, either as an artist or a designer, has words at its heart.

Mike’s a member of Riverside Artists Group and his work has been shown in a number of exhibitions, including the RA’s Summer show. His artists books are in the collections of Tate, V&A and other international institutions, and his collaborative installations with artist Francesca Giuliano can be found in Dalston Square, Hackney and Kensington Central Library, London. He’s also won a number of awards – which he tends not to mention!

I met him when he was wearing his designer hat, when I worked with him on a project he created to transform a hoarding around a London construction site into a canvas for word art. From Home to Home was a collaborative poem, written by 12 writers from Dark Angels, with each line of the poem displayed on the hoarding for one month, so that the entire piece was revealed over a year. Not only did Mike come up with the idea, he personally installed each new line of poetry each month. I offered to help him install my line and that’s how we got to know each other better.

Mike’s currently creating a daily piece of word art and sharing it on Instagram, which naturally caught my eye (more on that later). So I got in touch with him to find out more about that and how words and walks influence his work.

Hi Mike, it’s great to catch up with you again. Can you tell our readers what you do, how you got there and the kinds of people you’ve worked with?

It was by accident that I started out in design over 40 years ago. It’s too long a story about why I didn’t go to art school but chose university instead – but I think it worked out just fine!

After 16 years working for international agencies I set up my own studio around this approach to life:

• I call everything I do work.

• Some I do for myself, and some for others.

• Some by myself and some with others.

• Some I get paid for and some I don’t.

• And I'll only do work that I like.

The thing about design, unlike being an artist, one's work is anonymous. Sure I could name drop famous logos/brands that I've worked on or created, but it’s always a collaboration and that’s not how fame works.

I prefer to give credit to the people who create the right environment where great, enduring work happens.

You worked as a designer for 40 years but many of your projects are artistic in nature. How do you define yourself? Artist, designer or something of both?

Previously, if asked ‘what do you do’, I'd say ‘I’m a designer, athlete and artist’ but now I say ‘I’m an artist, athlete and occasionally I do a bit of design’. But the better question is always ‘what is it that you don’t do?’ – you'll get a far more interesting answer!

Ooh, in that case…. what is it that you don’t do?!

That’s not fair!!! But if I had to answer I’d say that what I don’t do is remember the bad stuff that’s happened to me.

That’s a great philosophy and an approach that I think many of us would benefit from taking. Who, or what, are your artistic influences?

Anything and everything, everywhere, anytime and anyone who uses text, type, words...

All that text, type and words stuff brings us nicely to your project Life is a four letter word. Can you tell me more about it and how you got the idea?

I was ’told’ in no uncertain terms in December 2022, that as an artist I needed to be on Instagram. So I had a month to get a project together as it seemed sensible to start posting on 1 January 2023.

I’d been making text-based work around chance and ‘Life is a four letter word’ happened as a fully formed idea…

I’d call myself a painter but most people would say I’m a conceptual artist as I do seem to think through what I want to make – and why and how – before I start. Although I’ll always allow the process to take over and if it takes me somewhere else, that’s totally fine.

So I made these rules:

• Every day dream up a unique four-letter word that means something to me

• Prepare a white 5”x7” canvas board and date stamp it

• Paint the word in black 

• Photograph it on a page from the Financial Times Weekend chosen to add to my intention

• Write a comment that always includes the word

• Post on Instagram that day, no excuses

I’ve now painted over 600 consecutive daily paintings. The individual words are for sale, and I replace the sold pieces with a new painting bearing the original date, but stamped with ‘COPY’ and the new date I made it on the back. Then there are copies of the copies...

What artwork are you most proud of, and why?

I set up my design studio in 1996 and structured it so that one third of the time we did fee-earning work, one third was curating events and one third was pro-bono and our own research. We started making artist’s books which, by 2000, ended up in galleries and collections. Designing my business is obviously not an artwork but it was a really successful creative expression.

If I have to pick a single piece of art, it's a small assemblage called Cecilia that I made from two pieces of a wrecked Toyota engine that I found in Tobago in 2016. It was featured in the Royal Academy’s Summer Exhibition and that affirmation or validation of my work gave me the confidence to wind down the design work and wind up the art. 

As a designer you get affirmation from the client (and their subsequent success). As an artist it has to come from within.

What role does walking play in your creative practice, if anything?

For most of my working life I have had dogs and walking them early in the morning was part of my daily routine. 

But it was anything but routine to them. 

Every day, and every walk, was like the greatest adventure. Every smell was new, every ditch was yet to be discovered. It was as if it was the first time they had explored the place so everything was in ‘technicolour’.

They taught me that I needed to approach every day as a brilliant opportunity… take nothing for granted and challenge everything, constantly.

That approach has been, and continues to be, fundamental to my creative practice. 

How would you describe your walking style:

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

Robotic Runner!

Is it headphones or head in the clouds for you?

Never headphones. I listen to my body. Running is the only time that my mind and body are in active and conscious conversation with each other.

Tell me about the most memorable walk you’ve ever done

It’s so hard to choose just one… I’ve walked to Everest basecamp, the Jebel Sahro in Morocco, the Wadi Rum in Jordan, the French Pyrenees… marathons in Paris, Athens, London, Lisbon, Singapore. But it was my daily 30+ minute walk, over probably 11 years taking my kids to primary school, that was just the best – constant conversations about life, the universe and everything.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

It would be during WWII and I’d be walking with my dad (when he was in his early 20s) after a year with the French Resistance, walking from Le Havre to Gibraltar on his way back to the UK. There’s a lot of things I’d like to know about the man he was then, that I never got round to asking.

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk? 
  Openness

• One word to describe how you feel about walking?
  Liberation 

• One word to describe how you feel about art?
  Essential

Please can you share a writing or creative prompt for our readers, based on a four-letter word?

MAKE

TIME

LOOK

FIND

DRAW

BEST

LIFE

EVER

Thanks for chatting with me, Mike. It’s been fascinating hearing about your approach to running your design studio, sharing how you found the confidence to wind down your design work and wind up the art, and how you approach your work. I particularly love your point about only doing work that you like – we should all embrace that, if we can!

To get your daily four-letter word fix, you can follow Mike on Instagram and get in touch with him if you’d like to buy one of his words.

Happy walking and writing until next time,

Sarah

More from The Writer’s Walk

If, like Mike, you want to experience a walk through your dog’s senses check out Walking with a dog.

Barrie Thomson is a scribbler, adventurer, enthusiast and all-round lovely human. Together with his wife JoJo, he founded Feasts & Fables – a celebration of people, place and purpose; an encouragement to stay curious, optimistic and adventurous. (JoJo brings the feasts and Barrie brings the fables.)

We met in the way that everyone seems to meet these days: through the magic of social media – specifically, Substack where we’ve been following each other’s newsletters. Not only was Barrie one of the earliest subscribers to The Writer’s Walk, he was one of the first people to sign up who wasn’t one of my mates, another copywriter or someone I knew in real life – a sure sign that I was on to something here! But he’s been so much more than that. When I took some time out from writing for personal reasons, he listened when I hesitated about restarting and gave me heaps of enthusiasm to get going again.

Everything Barrie does is about celebrating people and encouraging the very best in them. So much so, that he and JoJo created an Encouragement Manifesto. He gives so much to other people, without expecting anything in return, that I thought it was high time he was the one being celebrated.

Hiya Barrie, thanks for chatting with me! Can you tell our readers a little bit about yourself?

I’m Barrie. I am lucky to live with my love, JoJo, on our tiny farm in a very quiet rural corner of the Vienne in France. After long careers in the world of work, we opened a deli/coffee shop in mid-Wales, creating the sort of place we wanted to hang out and a community that celebrated amazing food producers. We closed the deli after nearly five years to make space for new adventures. After a couple of years of van life and European travels, we decided to establish a base camp, and here we are, living seasonally, cycling everywhere, and making time to read, write and encourage others.

The heart of what you do is about celebrating others. Can you tell me more about the encouragement manifesto, why you wrote it and why you decided to offer encouragement sessions?

When we closed the deli, we had time to reflect on the values at the heart of it, and the reasons why folk warmed to what we were trying to create. The list of values seemed like a good hand rail to guide the way we wanted to live going forward, so I wrapped them up into a personal manifesto. We asked some creative souls to write about a value that resonated with them and we ended up with a beautiful archive of words and ideas, a manifesto brought to life, I guess.

But I also had untapped capacity and an inclination to help folk so the idea of the Encouragement Sessions grew into a free mentoring programme. They are one-hour Zoom calls that set out to lift people up, to find reasons why they can do more of what brings them joy and fulfilment. There are plenty of voices that create doubts that end up limiting folk, especially creative souls. We wanted to redress that imbalance. Recently, we had the opportunity to take the idea to the Love Trails Festival where we offered face-to-face sessions and encouraged other people to see themselves as encouragers.

You’re into cycling, wild swimming and travelling in general. What role does walking play in your writing – and encouragement –  if anything?

On reflection, I see that many of my best ideas – the ones that have taken hold and become a ‘something’ – have emerged from moments of movement. Whilst I am happiest on two wheels (we cycled to and from Wales for the Love Trails Festival), we have had some memorable walks, including the West Highland Way and the Garganta del Cares in the Picos de Europa. The peaceful mindfulness of putting one foot in front of another really does kickstart my thinking. Maybe I should explore Encouragement Walks!

If you do an Encouragement Walk, I’ll be the first to sign up! Speaking of walking, what’s your style?

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

I am a rambler when it comes to the woodland we are lucky enough to have on our doorstep, always stopping to listen to birds or to peer at flowers and trees without knowing what any of them are. When it comes to hiking, I am way more purposeful and I love to stride out.

Headphones or head in the clouds?

Head in the clouds.

Tell me about the best, weirdest or funniest walk you’ve ever done

The most memorable has to be the West Highland Way – we set aside eight days for a leisurely hike. Two days of incessant October rain soaked everything and dampened our spirits but we arrived on the banks of Loch Lomond to unexpected evening sunshine. We swam and dried our clothes by a campfire. Poor JoJo succumbed to awful blisters so the last three days became a trail running adventure for me. JoJo took the heavy gear in the van and met me at the prearranged campsites while I walked/jogged as the mood struck me. Magical.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

What a great question. I have to say JoJo and I feel there is ‘unfinished business’ when it comes to walking trails together. I love that we can adventure together and relish the shared experiences, both the tough moments and the enjoyable ones. So I am going to say JoJo.

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk? 
  Water!

• One word to describe how you feel about encouraging others?
  Encouraged

• One word to describe how you feel about writing?
  Passionate

Can you share a walking-inspired writing prompt for our readers?

Halfway through the hot dusty walk, my thoughts began to drift, vivid daydreams of… 

Thanks for chatting with me, Barrie, for sharing some of your adventures with JoJo and for your overall joy, enthusiasm and encouragement.

For a regular dose of encouragement from Barrie and JoJo, check out Feast & Fables and follow their Substack, Encourage Meant.

Happy walking and writing until next time,

Sarah

More from The Writer’s Walk

If you want some tips for braving the weather like Barrie and JoJo on their West Highland Way adventure, check out Walking in the rain.

Sophie Gordon is a writer, Principal Communications Strategist at FrameWorks UK, and Chair of writers’ organisation, 26. We know each other through our connection with 26, so when she was appointed Chair, I asked her if she’d do an interview with me. She’s also a keen walker, so we met for a wander around Dulwich Park where she shared her vision for 26 and told me how she followed her feet into walking.

Ey up Sophie, thanks for chatting with me! We’ve obviously known each other for years, so for the benefit of our readers, please tell me about yourself.

I’m a Scot and a Londoner, having moved to London from Glasgow just over a decade ago. More recently, my partner Nathan and I moved to East Dulwich from Kentish Town so we’re officially south Londoners now. 

For the last couple of years I’ve been working on strategic communications for social change at FrameWorks UK. We research how people think about different social issues, like homelessness and health, then test and craft different ways of framing those issues, to shift the narrative and ultimately lead to positive changes like more progressive policies. I’ve recently been doing a lot of work on how to frame housing – to help push for changes like renting reform and more decent, genuinely affordable homes. We’ve been partnering with JRF and the Nationwide Foundation on this, and working with organisations across the sector, like the brilliant Shelter. 

How did I get here? Well, I moved down to London to join the inhouse Creative team at the NSPCC, and spent many happy years there working my way up from Junior Copywriter to Creative Director. Before that, I studied Graphic Design at Edinburgh College of Art. I still have that love for design as well as words. Plus, I love all things food, pottering in the garden, running/the right kind of gym class (shout out to Frame) and anything crafty (I’m slowly learning to make clothes). 

You’re the new Chair of writers’ organisation 26. For the benefit of people who haven’t heard of it, can you tell me about your new role?

26 is a fantastic not-for-profit organisation for writers and anyone who believes in the power of words. Many of us work with words for a living – as business writers, authors, journalists, communication specialists, poets and designers – but we welcome anyone who cares about words and writing.

Our members participate in creative ‘crowd-writing’ initiatives, which bring together multiple writers to focus on a particular theme. We also offer our members training, a monthly newsletter, talks and social events including our annual Wordstock event. And we present the 26 Awards for both the best emerging writer and the best work in our creative projects.

26 was founded in 2003 by a group of writers who wanted to champion the importance of words in all aspects of life. We have now grown to over 300 members who pay a small annual fee. Pretty much since it was founded, 26 was chaired by the wonderful Martin Clarkson, who is now taking a well-earned step back and is generously helping me to settle into the role. Much has changed since 26 started, so my priorities will be steering us into a new chapter – with an updated website and clearer offer for members at the top of my to-do list. 

When I was starting out as a copywriter, 26 gave me a creative outlet, confidence, and a ready-made crew of interesting and supportive wordy people to meet. So it’s very close to my heart and I’ll do my best to do the role justice! 

How did you get into walking?

I always enjoyed being taken on walks as a kid, but what really sparked my love of it was doing the good old Duke of Edinburgh’s Award at school. We were properly sent off into the west highland wilderness and had to learn how to use our compasses and OS maps properly (often to cross massive expanses of bog with no actual path). Have you really lived until you’ve found yourself up to your knees in bog, scream-laughing with your pals?

I loved the challenge of it and kept going up to Gold level, which I had the opportunity to do in Iceland. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced – from moon-like plains, to glittering fields of obsidian, glaciers, and a day of rain that out-soaked even my experiences hiking in Scotland. 

As well as (literally) taking me to new places, I found that walking had a very grounding effect on me. And I now know that’s a feeling that I can always get back by going for a walk.

I grew up in Bearsden – near the start of the West Highland Way (in neighbouring Milngavie). And for a couple of summers when I was home from Uni, I worked at the West Highland Way visitor centre. This essentially involved a lot of standing around Milngavie town centre early in the morning, taking people’s photos at the start of the walk and advising them on key things, like not to wear jeans. 

When I think about it, I feel quite nostalgic when it comes to planning more adventurous walks, and I think that comes from these early experiences. 

What role does walking play in your working and writing practice?

Like a lot of people, I find walking a helpful way of getting unstuck. Going for a walk - even just around the block, or to the kitchen(!) is far better than sitting there and getting more and more tangled. I’ve also found longer, more challenging hikes have been a helpful way to see the bigger picture when I’ve felt somewhat stuck at different points in my life – creatively and otherwise. 

During my degree, I was going through a phase of comparing my work too much to others, and was a bit stuck creatively. I decided to do a project about something that I loved – walking. So I took myself up Ben Lomond, snapped lots of photos, played around with screen printing OS maps, and messed about with projection. It made my work fun again.

When I’m feeling overwhelmed, walking reminds me what I’m capable of, and that sometimes you just need to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

How would you describe your walking style?

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

A Happy Hiker at heart.

Headphones or head in the clouds?

Both! If I’m out in the countryside, I never walk or hike with headphones. Part of the joy of it is to listen to what’s around me. But for a more town-y walk, I’ll often take the opportunity to catch up on podcasts, or my unexpected favourite… The Archers omnibus. 

Tell me about the best, weirdest or funniest walk you’ve ever done

In September 2023 I finally managed to do a walk that had been on my list for well over a decade: the Besseggen ridge. Way back when I was at art school, a Norwegian friend on my course told me “If you like hiking, you’d love Besseggen.” After a quick Google to see the dramatic view of deep blue fjord on one side and turquoise glacial lake on the other, I was determined to go one day. That ridge has lived rent free in my head since then! 

So, after being delayed by Covid years and saving up (Norway ain’t cheap), Nathan and I made the trip. It was everything I hoped for and we even had perfect weather for it – something which, much like Scotland, you certainly can’t rely on in Norway. 

Tip: On a hike I always take a bit of duct tape wound around my walking pole. I needed it on Besseggen as one of my boots fell apart on the descent and required taping to get me safely down. What would have been a very annoying mishap ended up being a rather satisfying bit of DIY.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

It’s not a very snazzy answer, but I think I have to say “a good friend”. Walking can open you up. It makes it a lot easier to talk when you’re falling into pace with someone beside you. Getting to share that time with a friend is something I really value.

My partner’s mum died during the covid pandemic, and he needed to rush back to be with her, and then quarantine before he could come home. This was pre-vaccination, and we agreed it was too risky for me to go, as I have asthma. It was a horrible wrench to know that I couldn’t be there for Nathan, or to say goodbye to Lesley, and it was a lonely time. 

My friend Manik met me for a walk around Hampstead Heath on a freezing cold day that week and we just walked and talked for hours. It was incredibly therapeutic, and I think it was good for him to talk too (he’s a doctor and had a rough time of it on the Covid wards). I don’t think we would have had the same conversation sitting in a pub. It was the walk that did it. 

One word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk? 
  Tissues. (Thanks to my year-round allergies!)

• One word to describe how you feel about walking? 
  Grounded.

• One word to describe how you feel about writing?
  Complicated. 

I can’t chat with a walking writer without asking you for a walking-inspired writing prompt for our readers. Do you have one you’d like to share?

In honour of my dearly departed duct-taped walking boots, go for a walk and try writing a short piece from the perspective of the shoes you are wearing. You might want to think what it’s like to be on that walk at ground level. You could play with what their tone of voice would be like. You can be as serious or as silly as you like.  

Thanks for chatting with me, Sophie, and for taking us on a walking journey with you. I love the writing exercise you’ve set and I’ll be trying that on my next walk!

Happy walking and writing until next time,

Sarah and Sophie

Photo credits: Sophie Gordon and Sarah Farley

Rob Crosse is a British visual artist who’s been living in Berlin since 2018. His work often explores the interaction and behaviours of people in everyday social situations with a focus on amateur societies, such as a slot car racing club or a railway signalling group, and he shares their stories through photography and film.

Rob and I met more than 10 years ago and I was immediately drawn to his art, his unique way of looking at people and his immersive approach to his work. Rather than acting as an observer, documenting the minutiae of life as seen from the outside, he immerses himself in the lives and stories of the people who become the subjects in his films. He spends a considerable time researching his themes and spends long periods of time with the people he films, which enables him to witness, and share, unexpected moments.

He’s also a lover of the written word, especially poetry, and he’s a rather fine writer himself, so we’ve chatted about writing a lot over the years. So when I was thinking about the walking and writing themes I could share in The Writer’s Walk I remembered Rob’s 2015 film, Mall Walking. The practice of mall walking isn’t widely known, or done, in the UK – probably because we don’t have that many malls here – but it’s a popular activity in the US. So I asked Rob how he heard of it and why he was drawn to it, and if he could also share how he taps into his creativity.

Hey Rob, thanks for chatting with me. Let’s start by talking about your work. Your films are observations of people going about everyday activities within organised social groups and clubs. What is it about these groups that attracts you and what are you trying to show people through your photos and films?

I think in some ways all my work is about the desire to belong. I’m interested in the feeling of support found within a collective identity. It stems from my own search for an identity and sense of not belonging, which I struggled with for a long time. This sense of not belonging is a very powerful force. It can be destructive when not found and at the same time freeing if not needed, but I think it’s always there in some capacity. 

I’m not sure I’m actually trying to explicitly show anything in my work. There is no specific message I want people to take away with them. Art is an opportunity not to have to answer any questions and can remain open to interpretation. Each work I’ve made feels like a chapter of an ongoing exploration. Themes of ageing, support and desire continually reoccur. 

What drew you to documentary film making?

As soon as you point a camera at anything there is a level of fiction taking place. So on some levels, I don’t see what I do as documentary film making at all. When I first learnt how to use a camera I started taking photographs all the time and it became an excuse for me to visit people and places. But I realised as much as it’s a device to connect it also forms a kind of barrier. It prevented me from feeling present in a space in a way that video doesn’t. Video felt like a natural progression, from a single image to a sequence of still images. And I moved toward art because it felt like the most free space where I could experiment.

But the short answer might be, because I grew up watching lots of reality TV and nature documentaries, so perhaps what I do now is somehow a combination of the two?

Where do you get your ideas from?

I wish I knew so I could return to this place when I’m searching for inspiration. But an idea is usually formed slowly and gradually through conversations and interactions with other people. It comes from a feeling of tension. I want to feel both tenderness and threatened. The desire for these feelings is deeply engrained.

My life and work are entangled and I wouldn’t know how to distinguish between the two. For example, some of the earliest videos I ever made involved my parents. It’s a tool for me to communicate thoughts in my head that I feel compelled to express in a visual way. Perhaps this is the most direct way through which I can express them. Most of the time this seems to be through the process of making a video or film, but over the past few years I’ve started experimenting with drawings and sculpture. I want to free myself from the limitations of representing something through an image. Now I try to listen to the idea first before deciding what form it needs to take. It’s a question of trust, the older I get the better I know myself and can trust my decisions. It’s an ongoing process.

Who are your artistic influences?

Right now, you’re more likely to find me in a cinema than in a gallery. But this changes depending on how close I am to shooting a film. I’m really into filmmakers such as Alice Diop, Nuri Bilge Ceylan and Tsai Ming-Liang. And I just watched the new film by Alice Rohrwacher who is a very impressive filmmaker.

When I’m close to filming or editing and don’t want to watch anyone else’s films then I read fiction. Writers like Claire Keegan and Abdulrazak Gurnah are very inspiring. Their words feel quietly devastating on the page. The language is so precise, almost surgical, and I think about this when I’m editing my films.

But my biggest influences of all are probably my parents. The feeling of not belonging is something they both share and I’ve inherited. This is the biggest influence across all my work.

Your film Mall Walking follows people as they take morning walks in a US mall before it opens each day. How did you hear about mall walking and what inspired you to document it?

I was with my ex partner visiting his friend in Kansas, USA, when he mentioned his friend is a mall walker. I didn’t have a clue what this meant so I asked to join one morning during our visit. We arrived bright and early at 7:30 am and the minute I stepped inside the mall I knew this was a film I had to make. People were walking in pairs and small groups making circuits around the brightly lit space whilst all shops were darkened or had their shutters drawn. In the middle of the atrium was a cafe which opened up early for mall walkers to gather after completing their laps. It was clearly an important social space as well as a site for physical exercise. The exercise aspect makes sense when you consider most American cities are built for navigating by car, and roads are often built without an adjoining pavement. If you don’t want to use a gym for exercise, or you can’t afford membership, the mall is a great alternative. It’s flat, heated if it’s cold outside and air conditioned when it’s hot, plus it's safe for people who have difficulties moving in their older age. I spent the next year looking for artist residencies in the US, including the Bemis Center of Fine Arts in Omaha, Nebraska where my application was accepted.

Omaha, like most American cities, has an active mall walking scene and I spent three months visiting Westroads mall at least twice a week to meet local participants. I got to know them quite well and met up with some outside of the mall, including attending football games and learning to square dance. Over time, I also learnt their walking rhythms and in particular what time of day they walked and in what part of the mall. There were the speed walkers at 6:30 am who would pace around quickly then leave; the grandpa club who arrived promptly at 7:30 am and walked around clutching their reusable cups ready for a coffee afterwards, and the casual walkers who arrived a bit later and kept to specific parts of the building. I even made a map on my studio floor with positions of where to place the camera and who I wanted to film. It’s actually kind of creepy when you think about it.

I was drawn to the idea that this was a space built for consumption, but through their actions was somehow being challenged. It's a kind of occupy movement for older people. Their defiant and purposeful walks feel almost like a protest. I have a lot of respect for them and I hope that comes across in the film.

What role does walking play in your creative practice?

I’m quite a restless person with a lot of nervous energy so walking helps as a release. I take frequent breaks to walk around my studio, pacing around my desk. I’ve probably spent an equal amount of time walking around in circles as I have typing answers to your questions. But if I’m really stuck then I will leave and go for a walk in a direction I don’t normally take. Sometimes with a camera or maybe just my phone. Walking around with the intention of taking photographs helps sharpen my thinking.

How would you describe your walking style?

On any given day I could choose a different one so it’s difficult for me to answer this. There are so many variables to consider. What time of day is it? What’s the weather like? How hungry am I? So….

• Happy Hiker – When I’m on holiday and happy to explore without thinking about time restraints or an end destination

• Reluctant Rambler – When I’m hung over

• Sunday Stroller – In spring when the plants are emerging and the trees sprout new leaves

• Wild Weekender – When I’ve had a wild weekend and I’m stumbling back home in the early morning

Headphones or head in the clouds?

I never use headphones. I can’t stand listening to something on headphones and walking outside. I feel so distant and disconnected. 

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

I’ve always wondered if the mall walkers of Westroads mall in Omaha are still there and walking. So writing this has only made me more curious and I would love to go back there and see.

Thanks for chatting with me, Rob, and for giving us a peek behind the scenes of your creative process. I loved hearing your thoughts on the importance of listening to an idea before bringing it to life and how the precision of your favourite writers inspires your approach to film editing. And perhaps readers of The Writer’s Walk can follow your approach of taking a walk in a direction they wouldn’t normally take to see what ideas it inspires.

You can find out more about Rob’s work on his website, and watch a snippet from Mall Walking.

Happy (mall) walking until next time,

Sarah

Photo credits: Rob Crosse

Ian Finch is an adventure and outdoor brand photographer and expedition guide who’s been travelling to remote environments for over 10 years. He’s an expedition leader for outdoor gear brand Fjallaraven and founder of outdoor adventure company Walk Wild where he takes people on day walks, navigation training and weekend hiking and camping adventures.

I met Ian in 2023 when I joined one of his Walk Wild weekend camping trips in the Cotswolds. As you might imagine, he’s a hard bloke to pin down, but he took time between his latest adventures to chat with me about his time as a Royal Marine Commando, the serendipitous moments that led to him becoming an expedition leader, and why he loves introducing people to the great outdoors.

Hey Ian, please tell The Writer’s Walk readers a bit about yourself

My name’s Ian Finch and I’m an outdoor guide, photographer and expedition leader. I have a true love and passion to explore wild regions and corners, be that at home or abroad, and return with photographic or written accounts of where I’ve been, who I’ve met and what situations have moved me.

For us creatives it’s a long journey to get to this point. A journey where as a child you’re surrounded by what creatively lights you up, then in later life becomes the thread of why you go and do what you do – all this happens in the background without you really knowing. I got here by a mix of serendipitous moments and meetings, a lot of persistence and consistency and following that feeling that arrives every now and again and says “I would LOVE to explore there, and meet the people that call it home”. It’s something that's difficult to describe other than a feeling – a feeling to follow an indescribable urge. 

Tell me about Walk Wild

I launched Walk Wild in late 2017. I had led friends on trips previous to that, and organised long canoe trips across Alaska where I took a creative and overall lead, which felt overwhelming but natural. On that trip across Alaska, which took over 2 months of continual canoeing, it gave me the time and space to think about what I’d love to do with my life.

At that time I was a manager for an outdoor fitness company and felt I was destined for something different. Apart from the creative side, which was to travel and tell stories of landscapes, people and place, after that trip I felt an urge to share what I’d felt – which was the wonder, expanse, nature at its finest, and the magic of sleeping outdoors. I had to find a way to shape what I’d experienced and nail that together with the fundamental skills I’d learned in the Royal Marines and as a fitness instructor. I decided to try and wrap that into one idea that incorporated every aspect of what I knew and enjoyed.

Walk Wild was born later that year with the ethos of helping people explore the quieter and more unique places we have available, twinned with learning how the landscape and nature works in magical ways. It’s been slow going but I haven’t looked back since. 

Being a Royal Marine Commando seems a million miles away from taking people on wild walking and camping trips. What was it like to be in the Marines and what skills did you learn that you carry through to your work as a photographer and walk leader?

The honour of being a Royal Marine isn’t as far away as leading walks and trips as you think. During training, and then your subsequent service, you are shaped in a certain way to be able to operate and work in a certain fashion.

What that represents is an unselfish, team-orientated way of living. You realise that to make it through training, and then be part of a commando unit, you will have pushed your mind further than before, and achieved physically things that you only could dream of, and you’ll be around people that have done the same. There is an incredible presence in that. It leaves you with a belief that if I set my mind to anything, and surround myself with the right people who think the same, and fill the voids where I lack and vice versa, there’s nothing that can’t be achieved with some hard work, good prep, persistence and consistency.

In the forces you have to adjust to be a clear communicator, to be able to share what you think in a positive way, to lead by example and mostly to make leaders out of others. I’ve carried those attributes in the toolkit for life every day since then.

As a photographer and outdoor guide, sharing what we know and love, can enable others to go a little further and help foster leadership in their own lives. I think the right leader passes on knowledge in an inspiring and positive fashion. 

Working for yourself must feel very different from being in the armed forces. What was the most challenging thing about setting up your own business, and what do you enjoy the most?

The most challenging thing was (now) to be in charge of my destiny. In the forces you’re surrounded by a bubble of safety and security – everyone and the whole service has your back to a certain degree. Out in the world and building your own business you are accountable to yourself. The growth is dependent on you, your successes are based on the effort and time put in. If you procrastinate the momentum halts and it shows. If you pursue, evolve, learn and grow, so will the business.

Working for yourself always maintains that desire to be hungry – for circumstance and opportunity – and to grab that when it happens with both hands. It also offers the highest thing on my list of values: freedom. To go, create and tell stories whenever I can, and with friends. I cannot tell you how important that has now become. Creative freedom. 

How did you become a guide for Swedish outdoor brand Fjallraven?

We go back to serendipitous moments once more. I‘d always worn Fjallaraven and have been a fan of the brand for many years. Fast forward to 2020, I was in Iceland on a shoot for them – the Fjall team had invited me to join them, which was a dream come true. Just by chance, their global marketing manager, a woman called Jean Marie, came on this shoot – which wasn’t always the case. She was inspiring, creative, assertive and knew what the brand wanted and needed.

It just so happened that we were getting the same taxi to the airport on the way home, and our flights were 30 minutes apart. So I asked for 30 minutes of her time where I planned to share what I’d been up to, what I loved creatively, my imagery and stories and how I could bring what I loved to the brand.

Over coffees and salads, we hit it off and she had a good feeling we could create something great in the UK. 6 months later they offered me a contract as a global guide and to represent the brand. I talk about serendipitous moments a lot, and there's been many, but what I think makes the difference is taking the chance, jumping in the deep end and the belief I’ll try and swim and make it work. That’s where the game-changing takes place. It’s one hell of a cliche, but seizing the moment in the cafe that day, literally changed my life. 

The people who go on Walk Wild trips are often new to hiking, camping, navigation and outdoor skills. What advice do you have for anyone taking their first walking adventure?

Start small. Build up slowly. Stretch the comfort zone in a safe way. Join a community. Join with others. Be open and take a chance. We are tougher, more adaptable and more talented than we think. 

Let’s get into your own walking. Which of these describes you best?

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

Has to be a wild weekender. 

Have you always loved walking or was it something that came later in life?

I’ve always loved woodlands, forests, walking, thinking. Again it’s one of those things, from a younger age, that you do without thinking. Later in life, with all its stresses, requirements, deadlines and expectations I go into nature for solace and for peace and quiet, also to generate ideas away from the high stimulation of being a business owner or the frenzy of modern life.

Ultimately nature, for me, is a reset zone. To take big deep breaths and to let my eyes see further than 400m and the next building. It's now the best office in the world. Even when I’m cold and wet!

Headphones or head in the clouds?

Hmmm. Tough one. I’m a high-functioning creative so ideas, thoughts and travel flows around my head rapidly and sometimes like a little hurricane. But I would say the thoughts are grounded and realistic and not up in the clouds. I’m an introvert at heart so everything is always within, thinking and generally reserved. I dream but with my feet on the ground. I love podcasts and draw a lot from them on sometimes a daily basis. Diary of a CEO, Chris Williamson’s Modern Wisdom and Danny Jones Podcast are in my top 3. They encapsulate what I enjoy – ancient and modern history, psychology, human behaviour and entrepreneurship.  

Tell me about the best, weirdest or funniest walk you’ve ever done 

During Covid, when we were allowed to meet with one person a day, I launched Walk Wild +1 – a chance for people to get out and walk together one-to-one instead of a group. One of the people that stands out the most is John, a chap who’s now become a good friend. He’s autistic and was pretty damn good at golf. After hearing that for someone like him it was pretty much impossible for him to become a pro in one year, he set out to do it – and in the end he did, with only days to go before the year was out. On our walk that day he told me how he did it, how the resulting book he wrote became a New York Times bestseller and how he showed the book to the golf pro years down the line to prove what can be done. That day we connected deeply on that subject and other personal things. He remains a good friend to this day. 

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

Very good question. I would probably walk with Lee Harvey Oswald, the man connected with the of killing JFK. I’d listen to the passage of his crazy life, but more so try and convince him to tell me if there was a second gunman on the grassy knoll!

Thanks for chatting with me, Ian. It’s been inspiring to hear about your wiggly career and the serendipitous moments that have made the difference at each step.

You can find out more about Ian’s walking, navigation and weekend adventures at Walk Wild – including his newest walking trip along the Gower Peninsula in Wales, starting in June 2024.

Happy walking until next time,

Sarah

Photo credits: Jamie Barnes and Neil Irwin 

Sarah Middleton is a maker, creator and instigator of projects, events and happenings. She has more than 18 years’ experience in creating, producing and running events, from festivals to big brands and charities. Most recently, she worked with the Soil Association on their BOOM Awards (Best of Organic Market Awards), together with creating experience days for over 400 of their employees. Now she’s taking an exploratory year to focus on some of her own projects.

I met Sarah in 2022 when I went on her Walkabout trip – a women-only, 4-day, long-distance walking adventure and retreat along the South West Coast Path in Cornwall. I wrote about this trip in Walking with a group and now Sarah’s taken the time to share her work and walk experiences with me.

Hey Sarah, please tell me about yourself

My name is Sarah Middleton and I live in Bristol with my daughter Isla who is 11 years’ old. I've been in Bristol for nearly 14 years. I came here in 2010 to co-run a company called Rolling Stage. Back then we used to put the ART back into pARTY and created events that mixed live art with DJs and bands. These days I work freelance, which gives me the freedom to focus on some of my own projects that I want to bring to life.

When I’m not working or walking I love surfing. At the age of 44, I’ve finally picked up the board. I’ve wanted to surf all my life, but always felt you would either have to be really good at it or not do it at all. At 44 I am now not bothered if I look like a tit out there, repeatedly falling off. For me the main thing is having a go. I love being in the sea through all seasons and there’s something exhilarating about having the waves crashing into you as you wait to catch a wave in. I'm not sure if I’ll ever be any good but it doesn't matter. It's more like playing in the water – and my daughter Isla loves it too. When I look over and see her happy face as she battles through the breakers to catch a wave it makes me happy. It definitely makes you feel alive. 

I love reading too, when I get a mo. I tend to read non-fiction and books about people's adventures, especially women adventurers. Wild by Cheryal Strayed was one of my favourite books. And The Salt Path by Raynor Winn was great, too. I’m passionate about adventures. I feel like you are your most alive when you are on the road and embarking on an adventure. Travel has always been important to me. Less now that Isla is at school, but when she was little I used to take her off with my backpack and her in her pushchair and venture across Sri Lanka and Thailand. 

Where does your love of walking come from?

From my parents. They both loved walking. I grew up in Devon and Cornwall, walking the South West Coast Path, as well as on Dartmoor, in Wales and in the South Downs in Sussex where my dad lived before he moved to the South West and Cornwall. 

My Dad, who passed away 10 years ago, was an avid walker. He was a man of nature and the wild places. He was an adventurer, a raconteur and a hard taskmaster. He loved nature, wildlife and the outdoors. 

Most of my time with my dad was spent going for long walks cross-country, from the South Downs to Dartmoor, the North Cornish Coast and Wales. He walked fast and expected me to keep up. He always had binoculars on him to spot wildlife along the way. With his walking boots, army satchel and a packed lunch we roamed far, taking the riskier routes for added fun as he saw it. 

I think he had hoped for a boy! But as he had a girl he put me through my paces. It sometimes felt like army training. He taught me a love for the natural world. Teaching me about the wildlife, flora and fauna we saw along the way. He seemed like a font of knowledge for the natural world. I feel learning about what was around me helped me to connect to it. It felt like most of my childhood was spent outdoors. A day outdoors always felt exhilarating, like an adventure, and we would return home weary and content. 

In the summer we would walk the North Cornish coast, stopping to play frisbee on the beach and swim along the way. We would climb rocky outcrops, jump across ravines and hide from farmers with guns as we crossed their land. He didn’t care much for systems, crowded places, consumerism or capitalism. And even though I protested a lot at the beginning of our walks when I was a kid, I grew to love them and I’m grateful that he taught me a love of the wild places.

Tell me about Walkabout and where you got the idea

The idea came to me because I love walking. I grew up walking sections of the South West Coast Path with my parents. Then at 24 I went to Spain and walked the Camino de Santiago, which is a 500-mile pilgrimage across Northern Spain. I was so scared to go by myself. I hadn't done any physical training for the walk. I was drinking, smoking and partying. I set off by train, and then by plane, by myself – with no phone back then. I remember feeling like I was going to have a panic attack the whole way. I somehow found myself at the beginning of the path on the Spanish/French border. I had a terrifying first night staying in a refugio where I had disturbed dreams, worrying about the walk ahead the whole night. And then the next day I put one foot in front of the other on the path, and my shoulders dropped a little, and I instantly knew I was going to be okay. I spent the month walking the whole way. I had blisters so bad it looked like my toes were falling off. It was amazing though! So liberating. And I was hooked. Once I finished I returned to the UK and I felt like something had changed in me. The confidence you get from knowing you can walk a 500-mile walk is something else. Not arrogance. Just a deep knowing that you’ll be alright no matter what life throws at you. The walk definitely gives you grit and develops your mental fortitude and stands you in good stead for facing the challenges that life throws at you.

After I returned to the UK, I’d walk the South West Coast Path for 4 days at a time with a friend or solo. It's so beautiful here. The camino was amazing but it wasn't always beautiful. The South West Coast Path is stunning. Since then, whenever I need to re-group and realign my compass, I go to the Path and spend at least 2 or 3 days walking. There’s something about being by the sea. With the wind in your hair, the smell of the salt water, the sound of the sea and the stretches of coast with no one around that really helps clear your mind.

I get some of my best ideas while walking the Path. It sorts the wheat from the chaff and helps to distill your thoughts. There's so many elements to it. Getting physically back into your body with walking after spending lots of time desk based and in your head feels amazing. Being out in nature and in the elements, and also being away from friends and family, and taking some time out. I always go back energised and renewed and ready to face the challenges life throws at you. 

Because I get some much out of it I wanted to create something that brought this to other people. So I started to design an event to bring 10 women with 2 facilitators and a chef to the South West Coast Path for a 4-day walk. Walkabout was born.

I feel women often carry a lot of responsibility in their lives. This is a chance to cut back, be fed, have your luggage transferred and not have to think too much about where you are going. We do all that for you. It's a chance for them to step out of their busy day-to-day lives and check in with themselves along the way. We do some movement and meditation in the morning and circle time in the evening. The rest of the day is walking the beautiful Cornish coastal path. 

Walking the Camino sounds like it was a life changing adventure and a brave step to do it alone and with no experience. Do you have any advice for other women who are thinking of making a solo expedition?

Solo walking adventures are great. I see them as a chance to get some much needed time out to be in nature away from the responsibilities, hustle and bustle of your normal daily life and with the freedom of the path in front of you. It’s like a mini pilgrimage and you normally return feeling refreshed, energised, confident in yourself and your abilities and ready to face the challenges ahead. 

In terms of advice, I’d say:

• Plan your route ahead of time. Then once you’re there, you can make adjustments to your plan if you need to. 

• Tell a friend or family member where you are and where you’ll be going. Then check in with them each day before you set off and again when you arrive at your destination. 

• Make sure your phone is fully charged and bring a battery pack, so you can charge it again if you need to. 

• Make sure you bring some treats to eat along the way and your favourite drink! 

• Avoid broadcasting your location on social media. This is a precaution and one I’ve seen echoed in other advice to female solo walkers. I tend to wait until the end of the day to post.

• Know that it’s normal to feel scared and feel like you want to change your mind or talk yourself out of it before you go. I think many of us do this. We tell ourselves: maybe it’s not the right weather, I’m not fit enough, I’ve actually got things that would be good to get on with this weekend, etc, etc. If it’s doubts bubbling up then just go! Once you are there you will be fine. Sometimes I don’t relax until I’m there and have started walking. 

• Know that if something changes while you’re walking – like the weather turning bad – it’s okay to call it a day and turn off the path, too.

Once you’re out there you will see other solo female walkers. The feeling of stepping out of your comfort zone and taking a solo adventure is, for me, always elation. 

You wear a few different hats: walk leader, large events organiser, lifestyle coach and parent. How on earth do you balance it all?

I think as an events organiser you get used to juggling different elements and keeping plates spinning simultaneously. I’m passionate about Walkabout and so it doesn't feel like hard work to bring it together. I love my girl and we get out into nature when we can. In the winter we go surfing, and in the spring and summer I take her camping and we’ve walked some of the South West Coast Path together. At times she is a Reluctant Rambler or a Sunday Stroller – although she always feels pleased with herself when we do it!

Is there are a common thread or theme that connects your varied interests and work roles?

Making, creating and instigating. I love hosting events that bring people together to connect. I guess the common thread is Adventure, Nature, Connection. 

What’s your walking style?

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

Definitely Happy Hiker! 

And is it headphones or head in the clouds?

Definitely head in the clouds. I love podcasts and also audiobooks, but when I’m on the South West Coast Path I like to be fully present in the elements. The sound of the sea, the wind in my hair, nature around me – and also in my thoughts. I find I get some of my best insights and ideas while walking so I like to keep my mind clear to allow them to come in. I think Julia Cameron, who wrote The Artist's Way, advised this too. I put my headphones on when I go for a run and listen to an audio book or a podcast. I like Dr Rangan Chatterjee, his podcasts are always super interesting. 

Tell me about the best, weirdest or funniest walk you’ve ever done 

In terms of best it's always great to do a sunrise walk. I think walking into Machu Picchu for sunrise was one of the most awe inspiring walks I have ever done – also hard going because of the altitude. I would love to walk Snowdon one time for sunrise too. I loved walking the Camino de Santiago. Moonlight walks have been great too. Across Dartmoor by the light of the full moon was pretty magical with my Dad who was a complete nutter at times. 

Funniest? Oh my! There have been a few! I think the first that springs to mind is when I was walking the SWCP in North Devon back in 2015. I started in Minehead and when I got to Clovelly I was aware that the weather forecast had changed and a storm was coming in with severe weather warnings for high winds predicted for the next morning. I was nervous about walking in the storm but had travelled from Bristol with this window of time to walk and didn’t want to turn back.

That night, in the local pub while eating my dinner, I met a gentleman who was 75 and had travelled from Canada to walk the South West Coast Path. We got chatting and agreed to walk together the next day for safety and mutual support. As we set out, the winds were picking up and the sky was turning darker and there was a wild feeling in the air. It did also feel exhilarating. As the day went on the winds got worse and we carried on. At certain sections the only thing we could do was get down on our knees and crawl along the path around the bits that had sheer drops down the cliffs into the ocean. I am fully aware of the dangers of walking the coast path in high winds and would never lead my own group in this kind of weather to walk the path. People do sometimes get blown over the edge in high winds. However, young and determined, I carried on. As the weather was so wild we weren't able to talk to each other much. We just kept checking in with each other and giving each other the thumbs up. At a few points as I crawled the path around the cliff edges I was scared and I kept looking back at him and thinking well if he can do it at 75 then so can I. The funny thing was that when we got into the next village that evening, and we’d dried off and were having a celebratory drink, he announced to me that he’d been scared but had kept looking at me and thinking "If she can do it then I can do it too". We survived! But I honestly wouldn't recommend anyone do that. Turn off the path when you need to.

On another day when walking the SWCP and the winds were extremely high I kept bumping into a couple from London and I saw her getting blown over on the path several times. I was ahead of them and came to a difficult section. The winds were coming strongly from several directions and the drop was so sheer and the path so narrow. I knew absolutely that this was too dangerous to navigate and that there was a high chance I would be blown over the edge so I called it a day and turned off the path to head inland when I remembered the couple and worried they would try and navigate it, having seen her getting blown over already. I hung back and waited for them and told them I was heading inland and that I would advise them to do so too. They were grateful and headed inland too.  

Those are quite the adventures! You’ve shared stories of some of the people you’ve met while walking, but if you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be?

Oh my that's hard. There are quite a few. 

Maya Angelou for her warm wisdom and wit. She would be great to talk to about life. Bear Grylls for his adventure and upbeat attitude. I think that would be for a more survival walk. Chris Packam for his knowledge on wildlife and his dry, straight-up humour, which makes me laugh. I love and appreciate that he continues to use his voice to champion wildlife and nature and bring light to issues that need addressing. 

Let’s finish with a one-word round

• One thing you always take on a walk? 
  Walking boots

• One word to describe how you feel about walking? 
  Free

• One word to describe how you feel about leading walks? 
  Happy

Thanks for chatting with me, Sarah. Although we’ve walked together I had no idea about your other adventures and the stories you’ve found along the way. And it’s been fab to hear how you also get your best ideas when walking. Needless to say, we’re big fans of that here at The Writer’s Walk!

When she’s not battling high winds on the South West Coast Path, or catching waves with her daughter, you’ll find Sarah leading adventures for women on her Walkabout trips. She’s running 2 this year: 6 to 9 June 2024 along the Penwith peninsular and 4 to 7 July 2024 along The Lizard.

Happy walking until next time,

Sarah

More from The Writer’s Walk

Learn a bit more about Sarah’s walking adventure, Walkabout, in the edition where I talked about Walking in a Group.

I met Tracy Byrne in 2020 when I went to her for help with severe foot pain that had left me limping instead of walking. My doctor told me that podiatry – the branch of medicine concerned with the lower limb, particularly the foot and ankle – might help. I searched for podiatrists in London and found that they mostly talked about foot-scanning machines and customised orthotic insoles.

Tracy’s take on podiatry is different. She challenges the traditional medical model by looking at the entire structure, not just the foot, offering her patients a fuller, and more lasting method of treatment.

She has over 25 years' clinical experience and an impressive postgraduate training log – specialising in the study of infant foot development, biomechanics and human movement. She’s also committed to the early prevention of foot issues, having seen first hand the damage and suffering caused by poor footwear choices.

But what really stood out for me is that Tracy’s a keen barefoot walker, and promotes this practice.

She’s worked as the key research and development podiatrist for brands like Vivobarefoot, Skeanie and Bobux, and London startup Zig & Star. And she regularly consults with design teams to create the healthiest shoes possible for children.

She’s also the reason why I switched to minimalist, barefoot shoes and why my feet now feel stronger and healthier than ever before, and are able to carry me on long hikes without any pain. Needless to say, I’m a big fan, so I felt really honoured when she agreed to chat with me for The Writer’s Walk.

Hi Tracy, thanks for taking time out of your busy day to chat with me. Please can you give our readers a quick intro?

I’m Tracy Byrne, London-born to Irish parents. I’m a podiatrist, married to Raymond, mother of two teenage girls, an adorable sausage dog, and a very grumpy cat. I live in, and love, the countryside. My passions are many and varied, so in no particular order (I hope) my children and husband, spinning on the Peloton, working in my garden, and lifting heavy weights to clear my mind, keep me strong and protect my bone health as I hurtle towards menopause and middle age. Walking, cycling, reading, cooking from scratch, and pretty pens and stationery are also big features of my life!

In 2008 I took over Holistic Health – a health clinic in Hackney – where we offer 30 types of treatments, from acupuncture, massage and reflexology to hypnotherapy, nutritional advice and, of course, podiatry.

How did you get into podiatry – what attracted you to it?

After suffering a fractured pelvis whilst serving in the armed forces, I became fascinated/obsessed with rehabilitation and the power of the body to heal and adapt. This led me to podiatry which allows me to guide my patients to better understanding of the body and its ability to carry us.

You take a fairly radical approach to foot health, which goes against what many other podiatrists do. Can you tell me a bit more about that – your approach, why it’s different from the more traditional approaches to podiatry, and how it helps people?

My philosophy has always been to look at the obvious first, treat the person and not just the injury or pathology. Instead of fixing the presenting problem, I try to unpick the cause, which can be as simple as crossing your legs all day long, or maybe working from home sitting on a couch rather than a good desk/chair set up. My aim is to educate my patients so that they have the tools they need to ensure they live pain free and move more.

Why is paying attention to our foot health so important?

Our feet have so many important functions such as shock absorption, balance, proprioception and carrying us around, so they need to be looked after and understood.  Keeping our feet supple and constantly stretched will help to prevent bony abnormalities, such as bunions, from developing and/or worsening.

What’s the most common mistake people make with their feet, and how can they prevent/stop it?

1. Not understanding how important the shape of the shoe is to the overall health and comfort of our feet.

2. Not drying feet properly or at all, leading to fungal infections.

3. Cutting down the side of the nails to treat ingrowing nails – STOP!

4. Not stretching the feet daily.

You’re a keen barefoot walker – does that mean stripping off your socks and shoes and going literally barefoot, or do you mean you prefer barefoot footwear over regular footwear?

Where safe I go barefoot, and when not safe or hygienic to do so I wear shoes with minimal materials between my foot and the ground. At home I’m always barefoot for comfort and hygiene.

What’s the difference between regular footwear and barefoot footwear?

Most regular footwear has an element of padding, particularly at the heel. Barefoot or minimalist shoes tend to have a very low profile with minimal materials at the sole of the shoe. They’re flat, flexible and have a wide toe box to match the natural shape of your feet and to give your toes more room to move.

There are many types of barefoot shoe. This does not make one shoe better than another and not everyone suits all shoe types. So it’s important to note that minimalist type shoes do not suit everyone and there are lots of things to consider before transitioning from a cushioned shoe to something flatter.

Making that transition from ‘traditional’ shoes to minimalist footwear needs to be taken slowly. How can people approach a barefoot walk in terms of foot health, strength, safety and enjoyment?

Before you start out, make sure to get advice about your general foot health, previous injuries, weight, and so on. Start slowly to allow your body to get used to this new way of moving – and listen to your body as you go. Check that there are no hazards in the area you intend to walk in – your own garden, a park or beach are great places to start!

How did you get into walking?

My Dad was a keen walker and as a child we walked everywhere. Then I completed The National Three Peaks challenge in September 2017 and that really propelled my love of walking.

How would you describe your walking style?

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

I’d say I’m both a Happy Hiker and a Wild Weekender.

Tell me about the best, weirdest or funniest walk you’ve ever done. 

Three Peaks no question – the hardest but most rewarding challenge.

What role does walking play in your life and work?

Walking allows me breathing space away from the day-to-day of running several businesses and managing a busy family and household. It also allows me to spend time in nature, rolling with the ever-changing seasons.

When you’re out walking is it headphones or head in the clouds?

Head in the clouds, listening to the birds.

If you could take a walk with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be? And why?

My Dad who died in 2019 after a short illness – he had an aggressive brain tumour. He was so funny and kind, and great fun to walk with!

One word round

• One word to describe your work? 
  Fulfilling

• One word to describe how you feel about walking? 
  Excited

• One word to describe how you feel about going barefoot? 
  Happy

Thanks for chatting with me, Tracy. It’s been great hearing about your journey into healing, podiatry and your holistic approach to health.

When she’s not walking in nature, listening to the birds, you’ll find Tracy at Holistic Health, her clinic in Hackney or sharing health tips on Instagram and Facebook.

Happy (barefoot) walking until next time,

Sarah

That’s the closing message on Rob Self-Pierson’s website. It’s a sentiment born from carving out a successful career as a writer, brand language expert and consultant, following an admonition from a creative director at the start of his working life: “Stop fussing, Rob, and get it done. It’s just words.”

As a brand writer and consultant myself, ‘it’s never just words’ is a point of view I share. And one that Rob and I have chatted about over the years. In fact, it’s partly down to Rob’s encouragement that The Writer’s Walk newsletter exists. During a chance conversation after an event at Falmouth University – we’re both alumni of the Professional Writing MA although we were there at different times – I told him about an idea I’d been playing with for several years and wanted to bring to life but wasn’t sure how, when, or even if, I should.

His advice was that I’d never know until I tried it. And that whatever I decided, and however I decided to bring it to life, the most important thing was that The Writer’s Walk should be more than ‘just words’. It should be something I truly lived.

Rob asked me what I was doing for the rest of the day and I told him I was going to walk along the river, think about things and make a plan. 3 months later, I launched this newsletter. 18 months after that, at another chance meeting, Rob asked me how it was going and I reminded him of the advice he gave me, and the difference his encouragement had made. Then I asked if he’d be interested a willing guinea pig for this new Interviews series. I’m honoured that he agreed.

Like me, Rob is also a walker. And like many great writers of old, he’s no stranger to walking after dark. In 2009, he set off to walk the British Isles by the light of the full moon. Ten years later, he wrote about it in his book Moonwalking – a vulnerable yet witty memoir about losing the love of his life then finding himself through 13 walks, taken beneath the full moon.

Intrigued by the idea of a full moon walk – and too afraid to do it alone, if I’m honest – I asked Rob to join me for one. So we met up at Primrose Hill in London and wandered along Regent’s canal, heading east towards the rising full moon, while chatting about all things walking, writing and moon shaped.

Walking

Hello Rob! Please introduce yourself

Hello, I’m Rob Self-Pierson. These days I most often call myself a writer, brand language expert and consultant. You’ll see why at robselfpierson.com.

I split my writing life between travel memoirs, short stories and supporting brands with their language through The Brand Language Studio, which I founded in 2014 and rebranded in 2020.

After 8 years of living in London, I moved back out to Essex early 2023 – a town called Epping, beside leafy Epping Forest, not far from where I grew up. Right now, I’m working from home. Though client meetings and workshops (I help people in business to embrace writing, and find new ways to express themselves, in language workshops) take me all over London. Sometimes even around the world.

I’ve written and published two travel memoirs, Twinned with (2015) and Moonwalking (2019). The third in the trilogy is now starting to form in my head. It will be about music, people’s lives and stories, and world cultures. But sshhhh, the detail is secret for now. One day I’ll bring together short stories I’ve written since I was in my early 20s into a collection. All the while, I’m lucky to support brilliant brands like Bauer Media UK, Canary Wharf Group and University of Greenwich with brand language – and partner with exceptional creative agencies, like me&dave and Baxter & Bailey.

Outside writing, I love art and music. I draw, I paint, often while listening to my record collection. I visit galleries and museums. I travel when I have time. I enjoy disappearing to my cottage in North Wales to stroll, hike and breathe the sea air. 

That’s quite the intro, thank you. Speaking of walking, what’s your style?

• Happy Hiker

• Reluctant Rambler

• Sunday Stroller

• Wild Weekender

When I have time, a Happy Hiker. Though when life’s busy, more like a Sunday Stroller.

How did you get into walking?

Let me think. Hm. Ah, I know. Well, I can think of two important moments – one that started my love of a good walk (almost always through nature), then another that follows on and confirmed my passion for a ramble.

I grew up in Waltham Abbey, not far from the Lee Valley. Sunday afternoons, I’d walk up the river with my brother to an area called Fishers Green. My brother would take his fishing glasses, and try to spot carp under the water’s surface. While I’d look up, trying to spot birds, or better still search for blackberries and apples to take home for Mum to magic into crumble. Walking was nature and natural to me.

Aged 18, I moved to south-west London to study English Literature and Creative Writing at Roehampton University. Like I imagined the great poets would, on days I lacked a creative spark I’d head to Richmond Park, 15 minutes from campus. So many times I completed the 4-hour circuit, following the streams, reflecting on the views, watching the deer share breakfast in the early-morning mists.

By the end of my time at Roehampton, I knew I wanted to write about nature, walking and the feelings that come from time spent reflecting.     

That sounds like every nature writer’s dream. And maybe every student’s dream – who doesn’t want to get away from lectures and stretch their legs for a while. So what role does walking play in your writing?

It’s essential. I find that through writing we can explore and understand our thoughts, our place in the world, and how the world works. The same with walking. The two go hand in hand, one enhancing the other.

I’ve had ideas for books when walking, cracked client conundrums, composed in my head the exact words I need to say to that person to share what I truly feel.

You’re a writer after my own heart, Rob. So when you go for a stroll is it headphones or head in the clouds?

Mostly head in the clouds, or ears open to our world of sounds. Nature treats our sense of hearing when we’re aware of it. I’m not a fan of noise though – so if I go for a walk between meetings in the city, I’ll tune into Classic FM. Classical music has become a dear friend and companion since my mid-30s.

Side note from Sarah: I grew up in a house filled with classical music, so in honour of the moonwalk Rob and I took together I’ve added Debussy’s Clair de Lune to The Writer’s Walk Spotify playlist.

You spent a year walking beneath each full moon then published the experience in your book, Moonwalking, 10 years later. Had you always planned to write the book, or was it something you thought about later?

When I had the idea for Moonwalking, I was studying for my postgrad degree in Falmouth, Cornwall. It was for my final piece of work, and I got ridiculously excited. I loved travel memoirs – Bill Bryson, Robert MacFarlane, Geoff Dyer – but had never read one set at night. My tutor said the idea was more than a final piece of university work. Done right, it could be a book. When I began my journey, I wrote a blog. But it became clear that my tutor was right: Moonwalking deserved to become a book. It took 10 years to write because I had to mature before I could do the idea justice.

They say that good things come to those who wait – and I imagine many aspiring writers will feel reassured and inspired by your story and how you eventually brought it to life.
But moonwalking is pretty – niche. What makes it so special, compared with walking during the day?

There’s magic in every step. And mystery. And uncertainty. And moments of trepidation. Many times on many moonwalks I’ve taken a deep breath before the next step. Can I? Should I? I wonder what will happen if…

It’s also the light. During my moonwalking year, approaching the final moon of the year (a blue moon), I created a mini website encouraging my blog followers to do their own ‘bluemoonwalk’, wherever they were in the world. My sign-off line was: ‘See the world in a new light.’ Quite a few people, from the United States to Asia to Eastern Australia, took part in my global moonwalk. They shared photos and stories with me. So often, the stark softness of full-moonlight was mentioned. And those wonderful moonshadows beneath trees and tall buildings that only really appear during the few days of a full moon. (‘Few days?’ I was once told by a white witch that a full moon is powerful the day before, day of and day after 100% illumination.)

And finally it’s the stories. The myth and lore. The people you meet when the full moon shows her face. These things just don’t happen when you walk during the day.

I’m gutted that we’d yet to meet at that point, so I never got to join your global moonwalk. What advice would you give to anyone thinking of taking their first moonlit walk?

Be curious, and be safe. It’s incredibly unlikely anything bad will happen – in fact, I often feel safer walking by the quiet and solitude of moonlight. But it’s best to avoid doing anything silly, like climbing up on high walls beside a violent sea!

What’s more likely to happen, if you’re curious, is you’ll discover something magical about yourself and our planet as you moonwalk.

Oh and don’t forget to peer up at Phoebe (one of the moon’s many mythic names) – you’ll notice something different every time you do.

Solid advice to look up – no matter what time of day we’re walking. You’ve clearly had a lot of adventures, so can you tell me about the best, weirdest or funniest walk you’ve ever done. 

There was the one where I got locked inside the Lost Gardens of Heligan in Cornwall. I thought I was alone; I wasn’t. The hike across Salisbury Plain with two long-distance walkers and their bottle of brandy. We were walking a moonraker trail – in filthy weather – getting tipsy, going around in circles, and laughing so much. The best? That’s a difficult one, because every moonwalk is special for its own reason. I’m going to say a visit to South Wales, when I first watched the full moon rise from the sea. I was moved to tears as Nature treated me to extreme wonder and beauty.

Your moonraker walk sounds epic. Speaking of epic walks, if you could wander with anyone, real or fictional, alive or gone, who would it be?

Michael Palin. I’m pretty sure but not certain that my interest in travel comes from watching Michael’s global adventures when I was a kid. It was an event in my family home, getting together to watch Pole to Pole or Sahara. He seems, and from what I’ve read is, such a warm, kind and curious man. I’d enjoy time in his company, and definitely learn lots about exploring the world and capturing my thoughts in writing.

Now for a last, one-word round

• One thing you always take with you on a walk?
  Curiosity

• One word to describe how you feel about walking?
  Liberated

• One word to describe how you feel about writing?
  Refreshed

Writing

We can’t close an edition of The Writer’s Walk without a bit of writing – especially when it features a writer. Can you share a moonwalking-inspired writing prompt with us, Rob?

For me, full moon is a time for reflection – as the moon reflects the sun’s rays towards us. During your moonwalk, take a moment to sit with a notepad and pen and look up to the moon. Reflect on whatever comes to your mind or heart at that moment. Then write a simple something, poetic or prose, that begins:

‘In this light of the full moon, I…’

Allow your words to travel wherever they’d like to go.

Giveaway time! CLOSED

Rob’s generously given me 3 signed copies of Moonwalking to give away to 3 lucky readers of The Writer’s Walk. For a chance to get your hands on a copy, you need to:

• ‘Like’ this post by clicking on the heart at the bottom

• Tell us who you’d most like to go on a moonwalk with, why and where you’d moonwalk with them by adding a comment to this post – it can be anyone you like: family, friends or someone famous

Leave a comment

Rob and I will pick 3 people’s names from a hat and I’ll get in touch with the winners, so I can arrange to send them their copies.

A huge thank you to Rob for chatting with me, sharing his love of walking and writing, and for helping me ‘see the world in a new light’ through our moonwalk together.

Happy walking and writing until next time,

Sarah

More from The Writer’s Walk

If want to try your own moonwalk, you might also enjoy: