How was your walk? (2025 edition)

Craignure, Isle of Mull

Thank you to those who took part in the 2025 edition of 'How was your walk?' (A Pilgrim's Cairn: How Was Your Walk?)

Here are their journeys.

From Sarah:

I did a couple of hours gardening this morning as the weather was quite mild compared to the last couple of weeks. After lunch Julian & I decided to go for a short walk at Wilstone Reservoir near Tring armed with our binoculars. On the way to the bird hide walking along the muddy path I reflected on what Stuart was having to cope with; the bogs & rivers in Scotland & the driving wind & rain! On reaching the hide we were very lucky to see a beautiful kingfisher sitting on a post. Keep going Stuart; you are doing incredibly well, not too much further to go.

From Anonymous:

John managed two short walks today mostly in beautiful sunshine. His 89year old legs held up! Hope you enjoyed the match even though for you it was the wrong result!

From Michael:

We rose to your challenge and managed a "walk" this weekend.- the first for quite sometime. I've been feeling very lethargic and can't remember feeling so unfit. Come to think of it, I can't remember being so old before! Anyway, we managed about 1.5 miles, walking "round the field" at Castle Hill Farm where we used to walk our dogs (two Irish Setters, which we had one at a time). I'm sure I feel all better for doing it! Tracy took some photos and I took a screenshot of Herts CC footpath map showing our route, but it seems that "comments" only allow narrative". But thank you again, Stuart for the challenge!

From Cath:

Reflecting on the theme of home, I came up with an idea for my own weekend pilgrimage – to walk from my current home to the BT tower, via all the nine homes I’ve lived in since I moved to London at 18. Why the BT tower? Because it’s been the one constant throughout this time, with almost all of my working life being in its shadow, so I describe it as my homing beacon. When I plotted the 15 mile route, I realised I could add in two additional landmarks – my mum’s childhood home, and the hospital where I was born.

This also fits nicely with some work I’ve been doing recently, using ‘place’ and ‘home’ as a way to trigger key memories in people with early dementia. I ask them to think about places they’ve lived in, and to write down the first memories that come to mind, the theory being that this is a really good way to curate someone’s significant lifetime memories. I wondered what memories would come to my mind as I physically found myself in front of each front door. I also thought it would be a good way to share something of my life with Jeff (my husband) and Philip (my youngest son).

My initial interesting observation was that the first four properties we walked to are all within a few hundred metres of each other, and between them they account for most of the last 33 years. It seems I’m a creature of habit and don’t really like moving too far! But I also became aware that the most salient and immediate memories that came to mind – in almost every case – related to beginnings and endings in one way or another. There were other memories too, lots of fun and laughter with friends, lots of eating and drinking, and of course a few painful and difficult moments. But moving in, moving out, building relationships and breaking up, all seemed to jump to mind first. 

I was also reminded how valuable the interaction is when you are walking with others. It was particularly poignant that much of the second half of the walk related to a point in my life when I was only a little older than Philip is now. He listened and asked important questions, and I hope learned something new about me. He was also struck by all the different neighbourhoods and architecture, and found himself wondering what it would be like to live in all of these different places we were walking through. He has a lot of beginnings (and endings) ahead of him. And of course, being his Godfather’s Godson, we had to stop every now and then for photo opportunities. 

Twelve miles in, we arrived at my mum’s childhood home in St John’s Wood. We have taken her there a few times in recent years and she talks about it often. Imagine our shock when we saw that it was all boarded up with notices that it was to be knocked down and replaced with luxury apartments! I looked through the hole in the hoarding at this beautiful but somewhat tired looking old house and couldn’t help reflecting on the parallels with my mum herself. It’s almost as though the place was reflecting her own progressive decline. But I also took some heart in the idea that – from what I could tell – when it is finally demolished it will be transformed into something new and quite impressive.

After that, we traced my mum’s daily walk to school across Regents Park, towards my homing beacon, which is right next to where I began my studies and now work. I popped into the university and saw a sign that said, “it all starts here”, which felt somewhat fitting. After getting some lunch, we walked back to the tube and past the hospital where for me it really did all start. This evening, I sang at Evensong and the first reading was Genesis 1:1. It couldn’t have felt more fitting. Life is full of beginnings and endings. In just 5 hours, I did a whirlwind tour of many of mine. I guess you can’t have one without the other. These transitions make us who we are. 

It really was a special day and I’m grateful for being encouraged to carry out my own pilgrimage. As a postscript though, I was a little disappointed that the rain, which was forecast for about 12 noon, didn’t actually come until much later, just as we were getting home. I was so looking forward to following Barnaby’s example, by sharing our rendition of “bring me sunshine” in the pouring rain!