coast WALKING
Never mind the threat of challenging weather…this time of year is ideal to get out and enjoy our coastline on foot
Someone was hurling carpet tacks at me. At least that’s what it sounded like through my coat’s hood. The path had become a stream and my boots squelched with every step. No wonder no-one else was out walking. Yet the wildness of it all - wind so strong it was difficult to stand - made me yelp with excitement.
Walking is good for us. The physical benefits are numerous: weight loss, lower blood pressure, increased heart and lung fitness. The mental health benefits too: reduced stress, improved mood, better sleep. But can we really enjoy walking in winter?
On that November day of lashing rain and howling wind, the main joy was returning to base, pouring water from my boots, peeling off sodden clothes and having a hot shower. Some might argue it would be easier to shortcut directly to hot shower? But there’d be no immersion in wildness, no calories burnt or thoughts settled.
Winter walking isn’t the sole preserve of masochists. Anyway, ‘there’s no such thing as bad weather, only inadequate clothing’ say the Norwegians. (I must need a new coat). Even in the depths of winter, there are rare and precious days of fine weather: crisp blue days when the pleasure of being outside, enjoying the sun’s warmth, is undeniable. So winter is not the time to put away your hiking boots but rather to have them ready at a moment’s notice.
Walking by the coast is, in my opinion, the most enjoyable. At its simplest - alinear route, with no river mouths or other obstacles around which to detour - you rarely need a map. Just keep the sea to one side and you can’t go wrong. If walking is not physically possible then the seaside has miles of wheelchair-friendly promenades and accessible paths.
Coastal walking is a treat for the senses. Pebbles crunch and squeak underfoot, waves roar. There’s the coconut smell of gorse and the tang of briny air. Visually, even if it’s so foggy that visibility is reduced to a few feet, there are details to observe: a colourful sea shell, the curzyway pattern of a drystone wall.
When the mist lifts it reveals dramatic seascapes: pools of distant silver as sun beams burst through clouds or a dazzle of glitter under a cloudless sky. The sea’s surface windswept with white horses or barely rippled with a cat’s paw. The ebb and flow of the tide is the major scene-stealer though as the ocean is pulled by the moon, the landmass growi
