The South West Coast Path. My great 2020 adventure.

In all honesty I have absolutely no idea where to start with this. My great moment of lunacy in 2020 where I decided that seeing as all my wedding work had been postponed I might as well put my summer to good use and walk 630miles along one of the most challenging stretches of coastline in the UK.

I suppose I could start in Minehead on the 21st July 2020 and give you a step by step run down of my journey that finished at South Haven Point on the 1st September. However, I am not here to write a guidebook. Paddy Dillon (who I actually met on the walk) wrote a fine one you can purchase here.

This walk was one of the most defining experiences of my adult life yet since I finished I have found recalling it difficult, like some bizarre dream filled with pain and wonder. My mind has blocked this trauma from my immediate recollection and when I do sit and contemplate it I feel like crying.

You see there was one version of me who started the walk and quite another who finished it.

It all started with a silly idea that I wanted to raise some money this year for a charity that meant a lot to me and also go on some sort of pilgrimage to find out who I was and what I was made of. The reality is that that type of experience is actually one of great suffering that nothing else can ever prepare you for apart from maybe life experience.

The past decade of my life destroyed me in so many different ways. 7yrs spent in an abusive and toxic relationship that ended in harassment and the police not once but twice, I had my heart broken on so many different levels as I had everything that mattered taken away from me, homelessness, struggling to build a business and mental health problems that required therapy and medication.

And then a pandemic that threatened my business and mental health on an entirely new level.

I remember a day during the first lockdown walking around a woodland wondering how long it would take someone to find me if I hung myself.

I remember calling my mum and screaming at her that I just could not fight anymore, my world was crumbling again and I didn’t have anything left in me to keep going.

Keep going, the most powerful words. Dig deep and put one foot in front of the other.

My mantra for life.

And this walk.

How can I put into words 6 weeks of my life that are to date probably my greatest achievement.

6 weeks that showed me how strong I am, how wonderful other people are, that I am loved, that I can ask for help and that I can do anything.

I can’t.

You probably clicked on this post looking for stories of wild camping, taking number twos on the side of a cliff, hiking through great Atlantic storms. All of which I do have but the truth is this walk is more than that, anyone who has done it will tell you that.

The moments of wonder for me were watching Kestrals hunt, hovering and gliding over the landscape until they catch a glimpse of something and dive. Or perhaps the stretch between Prawle Point and Start Point where I walked with the butterflies at sunset singing my favourite songs or maybe it was managing to pitch a tent in the wind and the dark after walking 21miles of the most challenging stretch.

Then there was the pain. Repetitive strain in both my ankles, black and bruised toes, severe sunburn, not showering for days, sleep deprivation, the stress of looking for places to sleep, navigating tourism, walking for hours in rain so heavy it caused flash flooding, going off of food. So many challenges.

But keep going.

People are always surprised when they hear that for the first 5 weeks I listened to nothing. I just walked. No music, no podcasts, no audio books. Just me and myself.

I processed so much in that time. That space allowed me to let go of so much. The loss of my dog, the sadness and anger at myself for what had happened to me, the boy who broke my heart. I had been holding on too so much pain for so long and as I put one foot in front of the other endlessly, I slowly untangled the mess.

I realised fully that nothing that had happened to me had been my fault. I finally released myself from the shame that surrounds you when you learn that someone abused you and you had no idea. The lightbulb moment when you can see that others had responsibility not you for your pain but you no longer need anything else from them. You can let it go.

You can move forward.

Finally free of the actions of others and taking responsibility for the thing that matters most, you’re healing.

There are many things that I am grateful for about this experience. The support and time from my Mum, I just could not of done this without her. The people who cheered me on every single day, the Kestrals, the endlessly beautiful scenery and also the charity I raised over £5000 for, Woman’s Trust.

It’s their work which everyday helps other women come to terms with their abuse, giving them the tools to find the awareness and strength to not fall into another toxic relationship, they literally save lives. It was a privilege to do something that contributes to that even in a small way.

And so I will leave it there. One day I will write more but for now enjoy 20 of my favourite images.