01/06/2026
Day 1: Pain. Regret. And my German Zaddy
1 June 2021 (part 1 of 2)
That first morning felt oddly unreal, like a waking dream peculiarly outside of time. I’d spent so long planning this escape it was difficult to convince my brain it was actually happening. Which is a long arse way of saying I did a lot of bleary-eyed fannying around with an alarmingly consistent lack of urgency or efficiency, despite (or perhaps because of) the insane day ahead.
It was also the end of an even more peculiar moment outside of time: covid. After a year of hokey-cokeying between lockdowns, bubbles, tiers, and isolations I could, perhaps, cut my 2021 self some slack for being a little out of practice at the whole existing outside my house thing.
An hour and a half (!!) after emerging from my cute little cocoon of a tent I was finally ready for my self flagellation marathon to begin.
*A note on Clares: One can never have too many Clares. Three special ones joined me for bits of this journey, reminding me that wherever there’s a Clare there’s a way. Please take the time to locate your own emergency support Clare before helping others secure theirs.
The first Claire we meet is Clare no. 2 (obvs) who drove an hour to pick me up from my campsite at 7.15am, her effortless sunshine GABA-tamping my pre-game nerves. Within moments we were down at the massive map monument that marks the start of the official South West Coast Path. With Roger the doberman loped by Claire’s side, I’d finally run out of time and excuses.
And so it began.
Flat at first, we followed the path beside the sea wall then abruptly upwards, a gravelly scar cutting through the dense oceanside forests and ferns that scream Lost World.
Just a mile or two in and the pain in my shoulders and toes was off the charts. I was physically fit after 6 months of epic weekend trail hikes but my overly heavy pack was squashing me into the ground with the force of, well, gravity. In that moment, as I faked a cheery aurevoir to Clare and Roger, I began to cry.
What, in the ever loving f**k, was I doing? I’d quite clearly lost my mind yet my friends and family had played along with the jape rather than pulling the emergency intervention cord and getting me the emotional support I so clearly needed. What f**kers! The betrayal!! This was all their fault!!!
Except it wasn’t.
I’ve never waited for permission to follow the wild ideas and anarchic zeal that keep me happily in harm’s way. I was exactly where I needed to be: in my body rather than in my head.
***tbc***
