Here we go

I woke early this morning with the same excitement that I felt as a small child, about to set off on the train to our Devon seaside holidays. Putting together the last few bits and pieces before I set off, I downloaded the maps to my phone again to make sure, packed some of the encouraging cards which people have given me, and sketched down in the back of my notebook the cryptic colour-coded flashes painted on trees along the footpaths of the Grand Randonees, Grand Randonees de Pays and Petite Randonees.


I scanned the bookshelves again for some reason and fingered a dozen volumes which could easily justify their place in my pack. Reluctantly, I set each down again, realising that this urge to further equip myself has more to do with my insecurities than any genuine need. There'll be time for reading after I return and I remembered how I want the next seven weeks to be more essential than that, that I want to be content with observing, gathering and speculating. I can refine or jettison my thoughts in the light of what others have written when I get back. John Davies told me that when he walked the M62 he had a collection of books which he didn't open.

I did, however, suddenly decide to change my alternative shoes from the recently-bought (and expensive) Merrells to the old ASDA trainers. The idea of buying the Merrells was that I'd have a smarter pair of shoes to wear in restaurants if my boots get filthy and that they could also serve as a back-up pair for walking. This perfect solution turned out to be unattainable. The fancy Merrells don't 'breathe' and make my feet very hot. The trainers are far from ideal for fancy restaurants but they can be washed and are so comfortable. Realising this kind of last minute decision can have a huge impact on the weeks ahead, I just hope I've done the right thing. I wonder if Scott could have woken up early on the first day of his polar expedition and thought, "Dogs? Not so sure. Let's take the ponies instead."

My equipment list

What to carry and what to leave behind?

Mark Moxon began his Land's End to John O'Groats walk with a backpack full of camping gear and lots of accessories that he thought he might need. After two weeks he was exhausted and injured so lightened his load by dumping stuff.

My total gear weight, including backpack, water, clothes and boots, runs at about 12kg.

I've experimented, added and subtracted, weighed and wondered. This is the kit list that I'll start with:

• AA batteries (for radio)
• AAA batteries (for bluetooth keyboard)
• anti-perspirant (finally decided this was sensible)
• backpack (Berghaus IV Freeflow 50 litre)
• blister plasters (Compeed)
• blister prevention gel (Compeed)
• bluetooth keyboard (links wirelessly to my phone so I can write anywhere)
• 4 bull dog clips (not sure why)
• cash
• cheque book (lots of B&Bs don't take cards)
• comb
• compass
• credit cards
• dental floss
• driving licence (for ID, honest)
• EHIC card (should allow me to get free medical treatment while in France)
• elastic bands
• first aid kit
• food
• foot ointment
• germolene
• hand sanitiser
• handkerchief
• hat (Tilley)
• headphones
• ibuprofen gel
• ibuprofen tablets
• indigestion tablets
• insect repellent
• insoles (Sorbethane, in case the new gel insoles give me trouble)
• jacket – Berghaus, waterproof and warm
• knife, fork and spoon set
• light shoes
• loo paper (half a roll, just in case)
• maps, printed on waterproof paper
• mini-torch
• mobile charger
• mobile phone
• multitool (Leatherman micra)
• notebook (Moleskine)
• passport
• pencils
• pens
• phrasebook
• plasters
• radio
• razors
• shampoo
• shaving gel
• 2 shirts
• skin lotion
• small towel
• soap
• space blanket
• sun lotion
• sweets
• tissues
• toothbrush
• toothpaste
• toothpick
• towel
• trousers (light walking) - 2 pairs, one with detachable legs
• trousers (waterproof)
• tweezers (for splinters)
• underwear (3 pairs)
• USB memory stick
• walking boots (Merrell Moab Mid boots)
• pairs walking socks (2 pairs)
• water (between 1 and 2 litres)
• water platypus (to hold the water)
• waterproof bags for shoes, clothes etc. (ziploc)
• wet wipes
• whistle
• wristwatch

I've put together a 'Bournemouth Box' which Jennifer will bring down to the half-way point of the walk. This includes various spares and maps for the second half.

Hearing voices as I walk

I previously mentioned the hesitation I have about listening to music as I walk, which tends to disconnect me from my environment. Despite my doubts I have decided to splash out £30 on an mp3 version of The Message by Eugene Peterson. It took a while to transfer the 5 CDs to my phone but now that's complete I've got 75 hours of the full text of the Old and New Testaments. It's quite listenable and you get used to the voice of the American actor who reads it after a few chapters. But dare I say that in the slower parts of Ezekiel it sounds like he's trying a little too hard with a pacey, slightly breathless delivery?

The Sony HBH-DS200 bluetooth headset is one of the niftiest little gizmos that I've got. The sound quality is excellent and it means I can use my 3.5mm jack earphones without fiddling with the non-standard micro-USB interface on my HP phone.

It only weighs 13g, which means that I hardly notice it when I clip it to my shirt. With a built-in microphone I can take calls on the move, so I should be able to make a swift hands-free transition from the Word of God to the words of my wife.

Carrying poles to Houghton

My friend Paula lent me some Leki walking poles a few months ago. She's a keen walker, going up hills and stuff. She was lovely and encouraging but even Paula was a bit hesistant when I asked if poles were a good idea. She finds them best when coming down steep slopes or on very rocky terrain.

I thanked her for the kind loan but even as I came away I wondered whether I'd really plod the streets looking like a skier in search of snow. Wearing rucksack and hat attracts enough jibes and my pride can only take so much. So the poles have sat unused.

Today I strapped them to the back of my pack and strode off to Houghton to return them. By now it's a familiar training route.

Paula wasn't in. I sensed she wasn't in, not in the 'popped out for an hour' kind of way but more along the lines of 'gone away for a week'. I checked the letterbox to see if I could post the Lekis but it had one of those collecting box contraptions, which would only have accomodated the first few inches. I didn't want to spike her vicarage like some wounded bull after the attentions of a matador. Leaving them outside to the mercy of the elements didn't seem sensible either, so I carried them back home. Hmmpf.

These particular poles may therefore the least useful walking aids I've ever carried. Their only contribution to my training is as ballast.

Never mind. Paula will soon be putting them to much better use on the South West Coast Path, which is a real rollercoaster.

Walking unplugged?

My friend Neil told me that the music on his iPod helped enormously as he cycled his way from Land's End to John O'Groats last year. I'd been wondering what music I should take for my journey and months later it's not something that I'm close to answering yet.

Everywhere people are travelling with the accompianment of music. The once ubiquitous earphones seem now be almost obligatory for anyone on the move. I hear from regular commuters (like Neil) that listening to favourite music changes a routine journey into something more pleasurable. It can be uplifting, encouraging and totally involving. I really understand that but I'm wondering if favourite music might bring the wrong kind of distraction, turning my exploration of the unfamiliar into something more routine, dulling my senses and inclining my attention to the elsewhere.

The radios in my house alternate from Radio Four to Five Live when I'm around. I'm a complete news addict, so early morning and late night listening is always to speech radio. I mostly work in complete silence and prefer it that way but each time I'm in the kitchen to make a cup of coffee or in the car I'm listening to one of these two channels. On a day off or if I'm doing something less demanding I might use Spotify or Last.FM to listen to music but on the whole my study is library-quiet, a sanctuary of silence. I like it that way.

A sabbatical should be a time to explore new things, of course, to forego instinctive habits in order to play with new things. So should I take the radio, which will add 0.25 kg to my pack weight, and should I stock up my phone with MP3 tracks? My instincts tell me to do both, that 50 days away will include plenty of boring hours which could be really pleasantly relieved by entertainment and music. And what happens if a major news story breaks while I'm away? Could I survive without following every unfolding detail, hour by hour?

Walking with earphones definitely removes me from the environment. And there's the problem. If I abstract myself from every boring path or dismal landscape, what will I miss? I fear that the experience of each place and moment will be less authentic if it's accompanied by a stirring soundtrack or reassuring melody.

So at the moment, my inclination is to leave the radio behind, to put only unfamiliar music on my MP3 player and to use it sparingly. We'll see.

1000 mile socks

I'm trying out a pair of 1000-mile walking socks. They promise to protect against blisters through a double-fabric design. The inner sock wicks away moisture and can slip against the outer sock to reduce friction on the foot. Well, that's the theory. At £12 a pair, they're the most expensive socks I've bought but I guess it's a good investment if they work.

Packed up!

It's 12:10 and I'm sitting in the Old Black Horse in Houghton-on-the-Hill, enjoying a creamy pint of Everard's Old Original.

Today I put my new backpack through its paces. It took me the best part of an hour to get ready this morning, piling four towels in plastic bags to represent the clothes that I'll be taking. Add to that a pair of old shoes, some lunch, a full (2 litre) Platypus and the whole pack came to 9.5kg (21 lbs).

It felt really heavy to carry until I slipped it (hauled it, more like) onto my shoulders. The fit was rather snug, though the design means that the pack stands off my back by about an inch, to reduce overheating and the dreaded sweaty back syndrome that I've heard others describe.

Most of the weight is carried on the hips, which is the way it's meant to be. I was surprised that this seemed to happen around the small of my back (the back of my pelvis) rather than just on the sides.

I set off and the first thing I noticed was the way that the top of the pack nudged the back of my Tilley hat every few strides. It was as irritating as the child in the dinner queue at school that flicked your ear. I had visions of trimming the Tilley but within an hour I barely noticed it.

The snug pack reminded me of carrying Jon and Phil on my shoulders when they were small. To begin with, they were uncertain but light, so I carried them for short distances with one arm curled round my back to support them.

As they grew stronger and heavier, they were able to hold on for themselves - sometimes clasping my eyes shut! The back pack has been behaving much more predictably but now that I've sat down after a couple of hours, I can feel some soreness in my back. Let's hope things improve.

Just after I arrived at the Old Black Horse, a woman arrived to collect the cash from the gaming machines. She and the landlord talked about the dramatic fall in takings through the machine in this economic crisis (officially, as of last week, a 'recession'). Such is the times.

Platypus

Paula's advice was that I should invest in a Platypus 'hydration system'. She finds that the convenience of having a sip of water 'on tap', so to speak, means she never misses a drink. When you're enjoying yourself and not wanting to stop, it's easy to get a little dehydrated. Perhaps even worse, irregular drinks tend to be large volume drinks, which can lead to indigestion.

I followed the advice and invested in a 2 litre Platypus (£18 from Blacks). I don't suppose I'll fill it, unless I'm planning a day which is unlikely to include a refilling stop.

It feels a bit peculiar to bite on the mouthpiece to release a flow of refreshing water but I guess I'll get used to it. One walker who uses a similar device reckons that storing it in the freezer (with a little water in) prevents mildew and mould forming. I tried this but fould that squashing it into one of the freezer's door compartments caused it to fold into a shape that wouldn't fit into my rucksack. I live and learn.

Rucksack

Today I took the plunge and bought one of the most crucial pieces of kit I'll use on my long walk home. Take the wrong rucksack and it's a mistake that I'll rue with every step. I picked up a Berghaus IV Freeflow 50 litre rucksack from Black's this afternoon. I took along bags of clothing and some empty food storage boxes that I reckoned would approximate to the gear I'm going to haul. I probably looked a bit odd in the shop surrounded by plastic bags but looking a bit odd seems to go with walking anyway.

The gear was a snug fit. It all fitted but only just and I wondered if I should choose a larger pack. But with more space there'll be the temptation to carry more gear and that's something to avoid.

Paula's advice

I went for a coffee with Paula a couple of weeks ago. She's a keen walker and an accomplished ski-er. I was happy to ask her loads about equipment and routes. Her thoughts:

• use a water bladder (fancilly called "hydration systems" by a number of manufacturers) to allow regular sipping rather than cripplingly large gulping sessions every half hour.
• don't bother with waterproof trousers in warm weather.
• don't bother with poles on flat ground.

Paula lent me a couple of Leki poles (their website: "everything else is just a stick"). I'll try them out but her thoughts that they're not worth the hassle seem sensible at the moment.

Mapping

I've always been fond of maps. I could easily while away an hour with an Ordnance Survey or even a road atlas. So in planning a long journey the subject of maps has happily occupied me for a number of winter evenings.

For Walking Home, I'll be tackling about 140 miles in northern France and 340 in the UK. France's mapping agency, IGN, produces fabulous 1:25,000 sheets. In the UK, the Ordnance Survey issues the 1:50,000 Landranger series and 1:25,000 Explorer series.

I've decided to use Memory-map electronic maps to save on cost and weight. I experimented first with the 1:50,000 OS map of central England, which covers Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, Cambridgeshire, Northamptonshire, Buckinghamshire, Oxfordshire, Hertfordshire, Gloucestershire, Warwickshire, Herefordshire, Worcestershire, Shropshire, Rutland, Leicestershire and Staffordshire - all for £50, including VAT.

The sofware that comes with the maps allows on-screen route-planning which can be transferred to Windows Mobile devices. I've done a couple of walks using the Mobile programme. I was wondering how the experience would compare with a 'proper' map and, I have to say it's even better. No cumbersome folding and unfolding. No scouring a huge area to locate my position. And with the GPS built in to the phone, I can get a fix on my position.

So yesterday I took the plunge and ordered the southern England and French maps. That's £180 for all the maps I need - still cheaper than buying separate maps.

I can't rely on my phone 100%. It would be daft, and potentially dangerous, to do so. So I'll need a hard copy map of every area in which I walk. The memory-map program allows extracts to be printed and I've found monochrome print in A4 or A5 very acceptable. The selection process is flexible, and compared with full-size sheets, this solution will be much more manageable - around 25 sheets of A4 for the whole journey. I can also keep them in a pocket, rather than juggling a large map carrier.

Walking with weight

Time being short today, I decided to try loading my day pack with enough weight to make a short walk demanding. Up to now, I've walked with a few bits and pieces in my pack - water, gloves, hat, sometimes a large camera. I expect to be taking something nearer 10kg when Walking Home next year and I've little idea how that will feel.

So what to carry in a small (30 litres) day pack? I wondered about a couple of bottles of Coke but then spotted a brand new 5 litre container of screen wash fluid in the garage. It fitted the small pack beautifully. It's cool and drizzly today, so I put on a long-sleeved cotton shirt, fleece and jacket before pulling on the back pack. It certainly felt heavy but not uncomfortable.

I walked 4.4 miles in total, in about 90 minutes, looking for signs of new strains and stresses.

The weight changed my walking posture, making me lean forward more. I wondered how this would affect my back during a full day. There was no pain, but a very different set of sensations. It was my neck and shoulders that felt the difference most - the day pack I use has a waistband but this carries none of the weight. It wasn't very uncomfortable but I'm sure that after a few hours I'd feel sore. I'll have to check this carefully when buying a large pack. I've read that a good pack should take most of the weight on the waist, rather than the shoulders.

The short walk this morning has been helpful in confirming that I need to practise with a full load. I won't be able to fit 10 kg in the small day pack but perhaps a friend could lend me a larger pack until I decide which to buy.

Walking in the rain

It's a fair bet that during my 50 day walk next Spring there'll be days of drizzle and downpours. So when I woke this morning and saw a leaden sky and steady rain I thought it would be a good time to experiment with rainwear.

I nipped into town and picked up some Berghaus overtrousers (£59.99) and a Berghaus rain hat (£29.99). The trousers were a planned buy and the hat more of an impulse. (I think it might be an impulse that I'll rue).

I walked into Wigston and back to pick up a box of crickets for our pet lizard, so had seven soggy miles to test out my new wet weather gear. The overtrousers went on easy enough and weren't too long in the leg either. The combination of light regular trousers and the overtrousers was warm and comfortable on a chilly day when the temperature only reached 5C.

The hat, though, was less of a success. To be fair, it was completely waterproof and the peak generally kept rain off my face and glasses. The lining is substantial and I appreciated the way that my ears were kept warm. But the shape of the hat led to rain dripping into the collar of my coat. Worse, the hat constantly rode forward, so that the peak pushed onto my glasses and my view was restricted. So after an hour, I swapped hats and used the light and generously-brimmed sunhat that I'd stowed in my daypack. This was more chilly around the ears, but it was good to be able to hear what was going on around me. Walking briskly meant that I was plenty warm enough, so there was no problem in losing the warm lining of the Berghaus.

When I Walk Home next year, I may have to take both hats but at the moment, I'm inclined to think that the sunhat could work well on all occasions.

Yesterday, my friend Derek came to church in a Tilley sunhat . It's similar to mine but looked as if it was better made. He wears it in the rain and it seems to work for him.