Walking With Plato

A Philosophical Hike Through the British Isles

Gary Hayden

• Publisher: Oneworld Publications
• Year: 2016
• eBook ISBN: 9781780746579
• Topic: Personal Development
• Subtopic: English Literary Criticism

“If one keeps on walking, everything will be alright.” So said Danish writer Søren Kierkegaard, and so thought philosophy buff Gary Hayden as he set off on Britain’s most challenging trek: to walk from John O’Groats to Land’s End. But it wasn’t all quaint country lanes, picture-postcard villages and cosy bed and breakfasts.

In this humorous, inspiring and delightfully British tale, Gary finds solitude and weary limbs bring him closer to the wisdom of the world’s greatest thinkers. Recalling Rousseau’s reverie, Bertrand Russell’s misery, Plato’s love of beauty and Epicurus’ joy in simplicity, Walking with Plato offers a breath of fresh, country air and clarity for anyone craving an escape from the humdrum of everyday life.

Chapter One

First Steps

John o’Groats – Duncansby Head – Wick – Dunbeath – Berriedale – Helmsdale – Brora – Golspie – Dornoch Firth – Evanton – Inverness

There’s no set route for the End to End. You can do it entirely along roads or you can navigate your way through forest, field, and mountain. You can take a more or less straight line or you can zigzag around, stopping off anywhere that takes your fancy. You can do it from Land’s End to John o’Groats (LEJoG) or you can do it – as Wendy and I did – from John o’Groats to Land’s End (JoGLE). You can take as much or as little time over it as you like.

All that matters is that you walk every step of the way.

If you take the direct(ish) route, along roads, the journey is about 850 miles, which means that you can do it in six weeks or less if you hoof it.

Most End to Enders, however, opt for a more scenic route, taking long-distance paths whenever possible and using roads only when necessary. These journeys are typically between eleven hundred and twelve hundred miles long, and take two to three months to complete.

Wendy and I planned to take a scenic route along some of Britain’s best-loved National Trails, including the Great Glen Way, the West Highland Way, the Pennine Way, the Heart of England Way, the Cotswold Way, and the South West Coast Path.

The first of these, the Great Glen Way, begins at Inverness, Scotland’s most northerly city, which is situated 120 miles south of John o’Groats.

For the End to Ender, there are two ways of getting from John o’Groats to Inverness. You can loop west through some of the most remote parts of the Scottish Highlands, wild-camp beneath the stars, and experience Nature at her most wild and free. Or you can trudge 120 miles along the A99 and the A9, dodge traffic, trash the soles of your feet, and endure hour upon hour of mind-numbing tedium.

Wendy and I chose the latter option.

Here’s the journey in a nutshell.

You walk 118 miles by road: first from John o’Groats to Dunbeath along the A99, and then from Dunbeath to Inverness along the A9. Sometimes you have the sea on your left and rough pasture on your right. Sometimes, when the road takes you further inland, you have rough pasture on both your left and your right.

Sometimes, you pass through a small town or a tiny village. Occasionally, you come across a museum or a quaint harbour or a nice little beach. Every so often, you get to take a brief but delicious detour along a minor road or down a forest track. But for the most part you just plod along the A-road.

Sometimes the road is busy and wide and dangerous. At other times it is quiet and narrow and dangerous. There’s rarely a footpath.

If, like Wendy and me, your budget doesn’t stretch to B&Bs, then you sometimes have to walk long distances to get from one campsite to the next, unless you are the adventurous type and don’t mind wild-camping in a farmer’s field at the side of the road.

This means that unless you are wealthy or intrepid you never get time to explore the towns and villages, or to visit the museums and harbours and beaches. You’re too busy hurrying on.

You wake up. You take down your tent. You walk. You set up your tent. You sleep. Apart from eating, that’s pretty much it.

For the first day or two, you make an effort to look around as you walk: at the sea to your left and the rough pasture to your right. But you soon give up the effort. Your eyes are irresistibly drawn to the road.

Our first day’s walk took us from our guesthouse in John o’Groats to nearby Duncansby Head and back again: a round-trip of about six miles.

In 2010, John o’Groats won (but refused to accept) a Carbuncle Award from Urban Realm magazine for being ‘Scotland’s most dismal town’. I have nothing to add except that it serves what is quite possibly Scotland’s most dismal fish and chips from a portakabin overlooking the harbour.

Uninhabited Duncansby Head, the most northeasterly point on the Scottish mainland, and the true start/finish of the End to End challenge, is a whole other kettle of fish. With its tiny lighthouse, sea cliffs, comical puffins, sea-breezes, and stacks (large pinnacles of rock jutting out from the sea), it puts its better-known near-neighbour to shame.

On our second day, Wendy and I shouldered our backpacks (complete with tent, sleeping-mats, sleeping-bags, pillows, clothing, waterproofs, cooking equipment, toiletries, torches, first-aid kit, electronic items, and food and water) and hit the road with a vengeance.

Eight hours and sixteen miles later, we reached Wick, a fair-sized estuary town, which was once a major player in the herring industry.

Wick, for all I know, may have its attractions. But for me, that day, aching and weary as I was, it was nothing more than a final obstacle en route to our campsite on the outskirts of the farther side of town.

By the end of the third day – twenty hot and dusty miles from Wick to the coastal village of Dunbeath – I was literally groaning with pain.

Two days of carrying a thirty-five-pound rucksack had taken such a toll on my shoulders and back that I grunted and squirmed and cursed my way along the last few miles to our campsite.

Wendy, by this time limping ten or fifteen yards behind me, was in an even worse condition. Constant pounding of the tarmac road had blistered her toes so badly that they barely looked like toes any more. Every step was a triumph of will – and stupidity – over pain.

I had known beforehand that the End to End would be no picnic, that there would be times when weary muscles, sore feet, and sheer bloody tedium would test our mettle and resolve. But I had anticipated neither how quickly nor how severely we would be tested.

When I had looked ahead, in my mind’s eye, at the trials and tribulations we would face, they had all seemed rather romantic. I had pictured myself battling through them with a stern and manly look on my face. But I learned very quickly that there is nothing romantic about an aching back and sore feet.

During the afternoon of that third gruelling day, as I dragged myself along the dreary ribbon of tarmac that is the A9, I kept up my flagging spirits by ruminating on some wise words from the pen of the English philosopher Bertrand Russell: ‘The secret of happiness is to understand that the world is horrible, horrible, horrible.’

At first glance, those words appear facetious: a paradoxical bon mot intended for amusement rather than edification. But the more you think about them, the more you realize that they are as true as they are witty, and as wise as they are true.

Take JoGLE, for example. If you set off expecting three months of jolly jaunts through the British countryside, then you’re going to be sorely disappointed. You’ll quickly discover that it’s not all lighthouses and puffins and sea-breezes.

On the contrary, if you’re going to walk all the way from John o’Groats to Land’s End, then, as sure as eggs is eggs, you’ll have to endure sore feet, aching limbs, inclement weather, fatigue, accidents, disappointments, and boredom. Sometimes you’ll feel like jacking the whole thing in.

But, if you know all of this beforehand, if you understand that it comes with the territory, then you can keep going. You can say to yourself, ‘This was only to be expected.’

This is especially true of the A99/A9 section between John o’Groats and Inverness. Every End to Ender who’s done even a modicum of research knows that it’s long, it’s tedious, and it’s tough on your feet. So the best thing to do is to accept it; roll with it; suck it up. Because if you hang in long enough you’ll eventually get back to the good stuff: to the lighthouses, the puffins, and the sea-breezes.

And it’s the same with life, in general. If you blunder your way through it thinking that the world owes you or anyone else a good time, you’ll be sorely disappointed. Every time you’re rejected, betrayed, or frustrated, every time you encounter pain or sickness, every time you’re cheated, mistreated, or defe...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Imprint Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Map
• Prologue
• Epigraph
• 1 First Steps
• Epigraph
• 2 Simple Pleasures
• Epigraph
• 3 Open Spaces
• Epigraph
• 4 Sentimental Journey
• Epigraph
• 5 Getting There
• Epigraph
• 6 Heart of England
• Epigraph
• 7 Wild Life
• Epigraph
• 8 Bittersweet
• Epilogue
• Acknowledgements