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The Healing Journey along the South West Coast Path

“I want to share something important. I have a stage 4 brain tumor, and I am uncertain about how much time I have left.” These poignant words from fellow walker Peter at the Minack Theatre in Porthcurno, Cornwall, initially struck me as theatrical. The dramatic backdrop of crashing waves and misty winds added an almost surreal quality to our conversation.

Our encounter had begun merely an hour earlier, when I met Peter and his wife, Michelle, while seeking refuge from the biting wind in a nearby hut at Gwennap Head. Curiosity led me to ask why they were undertaking the extensive South West Coast Path—a breathtaking 630-mile (1,014 km) trail that extends from Minehead in Somerset to Poole Harbour in Dorset, winding through Devon and Cornwall’s picturesque landscapes.

They explained it simply seemed like a good idea and expressed a desire to complete the trek someday. With a hint of foreboding, Peter added, “If we have the time.” It was only later that I fully grasped the significance behind his remark.

The South West Coast Path is a historic route that has evolved over centuries. Originally trodden by smugglers and later patrolled by coastguards, the pathway has transformed into a National Trail since its establishment in 1978, attracting countless hikers eager for adventure.

My personal relationship with the path began back in 2012 during my “extreme sleeping challenge,” when I camped on Lizard Point—the southernmost tip of mainland Britain. I detailed this experience in my book Extreme Sleeps.

In a curious turn of events, Raynor Winn, who has since become a prominent writer, read my book just before she and her husband, Moth, faced the loss of their family farm in 2013. A failed business deal left them homeless, and shortly after, Moth received a diagnosis of a terminal neurodegenerative condition. Facing these overwhelming challenges, they decided to walk the coastal path, using it as a means to reconnect with life. Their remarkable journey is chronicled in Raynor’s bestselling memoir, The Salt Path, which has resonated with readers worldwide and is set to be adapted into a film featuring Gillian Anderson and Jason Isaacs.

After congratulating Ray on the film adaptation, she reflected on her visit to the set, recalling the emotions that flooded back as she recognized locations they had traversed while navigating their tumultuous journey. “It felt surreal to witness a part of our story unfold in a place that held so much significance for us,” she shared.

Ray highlighted her favorite stretch of the path—from Zennor to the Minack Theatre. “That segment marked a pivotal moment for us. We stood at Land’s End during a fierce storm, surrounded by nothing but the raw Atlantic waves, contemplating our journey. At that moment, we realized how much the path was returning life to us.”

Her sentiments resonated strongly with me. I too had found solace on this trail during difficult times, including the loss of loved ones. Inspired by Ray’s resilience, I decided to embark on my own journey, catching the Night Riviera sleeper train to Penzance. My goal was to walk the section from the Tinners Arms in Zennor—where Ray and Moth found themselves soaked and weary after a storm.

As I stepped onto the rugged trail, the sun struggled to break through thick clouds, mirroring the internal conflict I felt. The wind whipped around me as waves crashed against the cliffs below, painting a vivid contrast with the calm moments I sought. The early spring colors—earthy khaki beneath the scattered bursts of yellow gorse and purple violets—encapsulated the tranquility I craved.

Along the way, I encountered Reid from Lancaster, who was two days into a three-month journey from Land’s End to John o’Groats, fundraising for the British Heart Foundation in memory of his family. “I’m not quite sure what direction my life is heading, so walking this trail feels right,” he remarked before continuing on his way.

Not everyone I met harbored deep emotional motivations for their journey. Fiona and Derek from Brighton, both retired, shared their plans to complete the trail post-Covid by sectioning off parts of the path when they could, often staying in accommodations as pet-sitters to economize.

Further along, I met John and Jane from Devon, who took a decade to finish the path incrementally. They continue to walk it regularly, showcasing the Trail’s ability to forge lasting connections. As I navigated around roaming wild ponies at Treen, I chatted with Myriam from Germany, who had two months free between jobs, dedicating her time to walking the Cornish segment of the path. At Portheras Cove, I paused to enjoy the serene beach, the vibrant sea captivating my attention.

A passage in The Salt Path echoes with a woman telling Ray and Moth that they had become “salted,” symbolizing their forever bond with the path. As I progressed, crumbling remnants of the mining industry’s past punctuated the scenery at Geevor and Botallack. At one moment, I encountered local schoolchildren, sharing their curiosity about the landscape.

Upon reaching Cape Cornwall, whose notable structures were once believed to extend farther south-west than Land’s End, I felt a change in the wind. I took a welcomed break at the Cape Cornwall Club, where I could enjoy a hot tub and cold beer, all while witnessing a stunning sunset where the provided views of the Irish Sea and Atlantic Ocean converged.

On my second day, I started off walking alone, immersing myself in thought as my surroundings began to brighten with the emerging sun. Each step felt lighter, uncomplicated by the complexities of life, reminding me that sometimes the simplest act of moving forward is often the most profound. Sally and Hugh, a couple from Kent, were another welcome diversion, revealing how they had been gradually completing sections of the path since their honeymoon in 1986.

At Land’s End, I watched tourists posing for photos at the iconic sign, yet my focus remained on my own journey, pressing onwards against the relentless wind. Returning to Gwennap, I encountered Peter and Michelle, whose walk underscored their own uncertainties about the future. Their presence offered me much-needed perspective, showing that perseverance and resilience can go hand in hand, even in the face of daunting challenges.

When I inquired about Moth’s condition years after their remarkable trek, Ray stated, “It’s been a tough road, but he’s still here and continues to fight each day. In fact, he’s out walking right now. That’s really all one can hope for, isn’t it? To wake up each morning and set out for a walk.”

For additional information, please visit southwestcoastpath.org.uk.

Phoebe Smith’s latest book, Wayfarer: Love, Loss and Life on Britain’s Pilgrim Paths, is available from HarperNorth.

Source
www.theguardian.com