Pushing through the door of an ancient pub in some remote part of England I catch a few brief glances. I’m not from ’round these parts, I have hiking boots on my feet and a weary but satisfied look on my face. My bulging backpack is full of kit I’ve slowly removed as the day warmed up, here I am now wearing a t-shirt on a cool Autumnal day. This is a timeless moment: the mysterious traveller arriving after dark, his route and motives unknown. What a thrill it is to be joining those who, through the centuries, have been that mysterious traveller.
No matter where I’ve hiked in the world I’m followed by that age-old satisfaction of arriving at a place on my own two feet and finding lodging. Whether it’s a teahouse high in the Himalayas, a logwood lodge far along a Tatras mountain trail, or a 17th Century pub somewhere along the River Thames, the feeling is exactly the same.
Being able to hike to the places I’ve been is a privilege I’ve enjoyed through relatively good health and ability. I am always very happy to see where those of different abilities have also been accommodated. Access to this planet’s spectacular scenery should be made available to all, wherever possible and in whichever way(s) that avoids doing harm to the landscape.
“Slow travel” has, for good reason, become a popular phrase in recent years. Travel doesn’t get much slower than hiking. It’s a wonderful way to appreciate Earth’s delightful little details. It’s also – most of the time – a very peaceful activity. No motors, no wind rushing in your ears, only Nature’s restful soundtrack.
The satisfaction of looking far below to where I started, or recalling the long and winding trail I took to get here more than compensates for the muscle aches. At the mercy of whatever the weather may throw at me and unpredictable trail conditions, I overcame it all and had a damn good time while doing so.
After a night of recuperating with good food and a soft bed I’m out soon after dawn the next day. All I need is on my back, I know how the trail looks on a map but the scenery will be an unending theatre of surprises. Somewhere, at the end of this path, there’s a dark village with a softly-lit pub ready to welcome a mysterious traveller.
A Plan To Go 