Inspired by reading an article today in the Guardian (and my own Kindle read of “The Walking Cure” by Annabel Streets), I thought I’d share in this new blog post my experiences of both nature and walking from early childhood to my current routines from my newish base in the Baltic Triangle of Liverpool.
Some four months ago now, at the end of a traumatic January, I packed my stuff from my Manchester apartment and with a hired van, and with generous free lifting from Mark and Charlie, I moved 38 miles west to a more luxurious base in Liverpool. It was a relocation based on both emotion and logic.
Me and my border collie, Cassie, who died on 19th April, some 11 weeks into the move, were regular visitors to Liverpool, hopping on the Victoria to Lime Street train with my senior railcard and exploring the city centre, cathedrals, Mersey and green spaces about once a month. We viewed a lovely apartment in the Baltic Triangle, on the off chance, signed up promptly and planned the move.
Walking routines were quickly re-established as they had been daily in Manchester. The Irwell was replaced by the Mersey, canal routes to Castlefield became MerseyRail trips to sumptuous beaches at Crosby, Formby, New Brighton and West Kirby. Ancoats Green, Heaton Park and Mayfield Park were supplanted by parks at Birkenhead, Calderstones, Otterspool and Sefton.
You get the idea
The postcode and accents changed but the routines did not.
I’ve always been into walking and nature from childhood – coarse fishing was something I did from about 9 to 30 and regular trainspotting trips took me usually to Sheffield but sometimes further afield to places in North Wales.
I camped at Hathersage when 16 but my love for walking was only firmly cemented as a teacher at Failsworth School, Manchester, where Charlie Daxon introduced me and others, most weekends to National Parks, especially the Lake District. His vast knowledge of mountains (now street art) was staggering to me, in my mid 20s. It was a golden time of my youth.
Living near Leek, in both Cheddleton and Waterhouses, in the Staffordshire Moorlands (in my 30s) saw nature close to home – the Manifold Trail, the Roaches, Butterton, Grindon, etc, within easy reach.
It staggered me then to read today (in a Guardian article here) that half of UK adults say they spend less than three hours a week outside in nature. Most people have joyful memories of playing outside as children and now wildlife charities are urging people to ‘rewild their inner child’.
Walking with Luna
Now armed with a “new” rescue dog, Luna a Weimaraner, after three weeks of grieving, a deep dive into “The Walking Cure” by Annabel Streets, and a MerseyRail free pass for all buses, trains and the Mersey ferry, exploration, in between work, has recommenced in earnest.
Yesterday, after reading a chapter about industrial relics, we headed to Aintree on the train and walked the Liverpool Loop (also called the Transpennine Trail) to a former railway station at West Derby, before catching a packed bus (Liverpool’s final game of the season was on) back to the city centre, before a short walk home.
The benefits of walking
What walking does for anyone is pretty obvious – it burns calories, absorbs Vitamin D (Liverpool is sunnier, drier, colder and windier than Manchester), plunges you into nature and conversations with strangers. The walk from Aintree to West Derby saw about five stops for chats with Scousers who are amongst the friendliest people ever.
But what I didn’t know until downloading the book was that different environs have different effects on us mentally and physically – it stands to reason that a hike up a mountain or a long walk on a beach is more demanding than a canal towpath.
Emotional and physical recalibration
But emotionally, a canal towpath allows us to recalibrate, as does the disused railway line (yesterday) because inclines are minimal and navigation is a cinch.
City centre walking – a favourite from childhood – has numerous benefits too. I live on my own (apart from with Cassie and now Luna) and cities have both anonymity and connection, particularly in friendly metropolises like Manchester and Liverpool, where random conversations occur easily.
So if you’re one of those adults who don’t walk, who don’t get out in nature, you must. Walking is cheap – you don’t need technical gear to tackle a towpath or city centre; it lifts your mood, improves fitness, but, perhaps most importantly, it connects you with nature and people.
Instead of doom scrolling, try walk scrolling and set a schedule of short and longer hikes across varied terrain to wake that inner child from their somnambulant state of being.
It’s great.
CTA
So what do I do? Apart from walking?
I design WordPress websites, I write blog posts, email campaigns, LinkedIn newsletters. I manage the social media content for many companies on a retained basis.
It’s work, embedded routines, in a lifestyle that I’ve deliberately designed, based on things I love to do.
If my style piques your interest, email me at info@getprocopy.com to find out how I can wake your digital marketing from its slumber. I’m on WhatsApp too at 07462923476.
