So, What Went Wrong? Part 4

As I was drifting off to sleep on that third night, my eyes heavy and my stomach full, the wind began to pick up. I heard it whistling over the campsite. I listened to it safe and warm in my sleeping bag, my eyes getting heavier and heavier.

This is where I would have liked to end my night, but alas it was not the end.

The wind became stronger and stronger, my pathetic little tent flapped about like a slice of cheese in a tumble dryer.

The wind shook my tent around so much that it ripped the interior of my living compartment (I have no idea what I am meant to call this!), essentially halving my living space.

How my Tent should have looked.

How it did look after the wind broke it.

At 11.24pm (roughly) My tent decided that it was no longer contented with its lot in life and took flight in a similar manner to Mary Poppins's Umbrella.

It was at this point dressed only in my pants and hiking boots (sexy right?) I leaped out of the tent (actually all I did is stand up and the tent fell about me). As I was trying to rebuild my shelter rain started to fall.

I spent the rest of the night doing running repairs to my tent in order to keep everything else dry. Needless to say I was not a happy bunny.

This is not me.

Not long after the wind had eased off, my phone died. Cue me walking in and out of the town centre a few times looking for (but not finding) a pay phone. It was 2 miles into town. Again not particularly cheerful.

I eventually got some got in touch with my family and the next days campsite and was able to pack up and head on my way again.

Sorry no pictures again, I was too busy being grumpy. I walked through Newhaven and then toward Brighton. I was about 5 miles from Brighton when my rucksack broke. This is one instance where I would have liked a camera, the sight of me screaming at my bag on the beach would have been a good one. Anyway, long story short. I wore my bag as best I could, turned on my heel and took the train from Newhaven back to Ipswich.

I couldn't find an image of a man screaming at a bag... The internet has let me down.

But do not fear as tonight I am heading back to the south coast to complete my journey with the help of my trusty bicycle, should have the distance complete in just over a week. Once again wish me luck and I am sorry for dragging this out.

So, What Went Wrong? Part 3

On the third day of my trip I woke early. Had a lovely cooked breakfast with my uncle and aunt and headed toward Bexhill. It was wet and windy. Don't believe me? See for yourself:

Wet in Hastings

Wishing I hadn't packed my jumper right in the bottom of my bag.

After a couple of hours I made it to Bexhill and the weather was brightening up.

There wasn't much to see in Bexhill so here is my view as I sat to eat an apple (apple not pictured).

The south coast really is the place to go if you like piers, here we are at Eastbourne famed, and rightly so, for its ability to attract the elderly.

As I left Eastbourne (which is not as close to Bexhill as I thought!) I decided to take a slightly longer route and go to Beachy Head. Beachy Head is one of the UK's top suicide spots, though it was so windy while I was up there I wonder if a few of these suicides haven't just been unlucky people who though attaching sales to their backs was a good idea.

Eastbourne

Beachy Head, I wasn't getting any closer to the edge of the cliff.

Chillin'

In-audible proof of how windy it was on Beachy Head. Also proof of my inability to use a camera.

After Beachy Head I was pretty chilled and I thought: "Sod it." So I took the bus the 5 miles to Seaford where I was to spend the night.

Seaford

Just thought you'd like to see my dinner. I call it 'noodle and ham mess'.

All in all the day was pretty rocking and I went to bed feeling good... The following 12 hours were just awful.

You'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out though!

So, What Went Wrong? Part 2

I woke up on the second day incredibly sunburnt, but pretty well rested. I was still in the middle of a field, a field about 6 miles away from where I intended to be.

I got up and I realised how much work it had been the day before, I was shattered. I just about manage to summon the strength to put away my tent and trek towards Lydd.

I made it.

It is at this point where the pictures begin to dry up. About 3 miles outside of Lydd, on the way to Camber I had a problem.

I really needed the toilet. Not the good kind the bad kind. To make this even more difficult, I was walking along side a busy(ish) road without a single tree in the area. I did, however, after 10 or 15 minutes more walking find a collection of suitable trees. I squatted over a log and thought of England. This was far from pleasant. I considered taking a picture, but remembering what it looked like I am glad I didn't.

Relief at last.

It didn't last. Just as I was approaching Camber (I could see the town sign welcoming me, I was preparing to take out my camera and rabbit) a sensation gripped me. I didn't feel right. I didn't feel good. I felt like vomiting.

And I did. A lot.

As far as I can figure, The amount of stress I had put my body through in the previous day and a half had combined with the incredible heat to create the stunning multi-colour that rested at my feet.

To cut a long story short, I got a drink and a sandwich, felt sorry for myself and took a bus the remaining 10 miles to Hastings.

Lucky for me I was staying in a much nicer place that evening that the night before and my aunt and uncle fed and watered me and let me sleep a lot, so I would be raring to go the next day.

My bed for the second night

Day 3 coming next!

So, What Went Wrong? Part 1

As many of you know I didn't actually make it all the way to Lands End, but that doesn't mean that you can't find out what I got up to on the 4 days that I was gone.

Day 1

Day one started at midnight when I found out that I had managed to get into Edinburgh University to take my masters *Takes a bow*. I slept for 4 hours, then it was time to get up and go.

My good friend Alistair "offered" to drive me to Dover. So I let him.

Alistair

We had a pleasant drive, passed the Louie Armstrong pub in Dover and had a McDonald's breakfast.

Alistair and I said our goodbyes and I headed out on my way.

"Bye"

The weather was lovely and walking over the white cliffs of Dover was, apart from my chronic hay fever almost blinding me (never good on a cliff edge), fantastic.

My faithful travelling companion 'The No Ear Rabbit'

At this point, about 2 hours in, I was congratulating myself on giving myself this challenge. It didn't seem too challenging and the views were amazing. Although I was disappointed in myself that I could not bring myself to get right to the edge of the cliffs, as that would have been a nice picture.

The first place I walked through was Capel-Le-Ferne (just one of many places I decided I would retire to on my (breifer than expected) walk)

The next was Folkestone which, my to my (obvious) surprise, was lovely. Although in hindsight I think this view of Folkestone (and just about everywhere else) was helped by the sun. The sun later turned on me.

Genuinely shocked at how nice Folkestone was. About to eat an apple.

Next was Hythe. It was as I was leaving Hythe I hated the walk (to be honest I hated everything), the mid afternoon heat was unbearable and the scenery, compared to earlier at least, was as dull as dish water.

Dymchurch, a children's paradise apparently.

And New Romney.

At this point I had changed my mind again and was loving the walk.

We took a break at New Romney to work out exactly where New Romney was.

Nothing in New Romney apart from a long concrete wall

Shattered, hot and having covered about 30 miles I decided to make camp at Old Romney. About two thirds of the way there I said: "Enough." and set up my (rather ramshackle) tent in a field. 

You try putting up a tent after a 30 mile walk!

Despite my best efforts I was incredibly sun burnt (mainly on my left side) and I hours moving gingerly and applying (then re-applying) after sun.

After sun and a newspaper, bliss.

So Ended my first day. I spent the night drifting in and out of sleep as I wondered if a farmer would come to shout at me and questioned what that odd buzzing sound was (it was a large pylon, no more that 10 feet away from me...)

Coming soon, Day 2!

Oh Dear

I leave in less than 24 hours to start my walk. I am petrified.

Not too late to sponsor me though...

http://www.justgiving.com/Owen-Johnstons-big-walk

Day 16 (and a bit into Day 17 too)

On the final day of my walk I will leave Penzance early in the morning and take the short 9.1 mile (3 hour) walk to Lands End.

Lands End

This will leave me with a couple of hours to kill before I have to make my way back to Penzance to catch my train home. I haven't got too much planed other than a picnic.

For some reason I typed vegan picnic into Google

After completing the walk, taking a few pictures and returning to Penzance I will catch the train to Ipswich (via London). In case anybody happens to be about, I'll be on 17.39 Penzance to Paddington, coach B, seat 49A on the 20th July and the 06.00 Liverpool Street to Ipswich, coach C, seat 76A on the 21st July. Come and say hi.

As those of you with some concept of time have surely realised the journey home takes me out of one day and into another. This is because the powers that be, for some reason beyond my comprehension, decided against a direct route from Penzance to Ipswich, which surely would have made my trip home that much more pleasant. So, on the advice of  my friend Pete, I will sit in the Liverpool Street McDonald's for around 4 hours occasionally buying some sustenance to keep them from turning me out until my train is ready to depart.

At 7.30am on the 21st of July 2011 my ordeal will be over.

Day 15

The penultimate day of my walk.

I will be making my way up from the southerly Lizard to Penzance. Home of the Cornish Pirates, the only decent sports team in the whole of Cornwall.

The Cornish Pirates

Another fact for all you sports fans, Matthew Etherington (from Truro) is the only professional footballer in the world from Cornwall.

Matthew Etherington sees dead people

Today's walk will be the final proper one (as I run out of land before I can go too far on the final day), I will cover 23.5miles over 8 hours.

The end is in sight.

Day 14

Day 14 is a bit different from the other days in so much as I am actively adding distance to my walk. Over day 14 and day 15 I will be making my way from Truro to Penzance, the distance of this would have been 26 miles and passed through my old residence Redruth. This could have been done in a single day.

Redruth's Medieval style restaurant. The only reason anyone would go to Redruth.

However I chose not to take this action, but instead opt to spread the journey over two days and and cover 52.4 miles just to go to a place called Lizard.

The lovely coastal village of Lizard

I have since been told that this is indeed a lovely part of the world, but when I was planning my route I chose it merely because I found the name amusing. So on day 14 I will be moving from Truro to Lizard (28.9 miles and 10 hours walk).

Hopefully it will be worth it.

Day 13

Day 13 unlucky for some, but not for me. I shall be returning to the town I was born, Truro. Truro will only be a 7 hour walk (21.4 miles) from Fowey (Foy). I will probably use my time around the town to go to the pub and maybe get something to eat.
In summary (relatively) relaxing walk to a quiet town I just happened to get squeezed out into. Bliss.

The very hospital I was born in, I think.

Day 12

Not long left to go now. After walking an epic 41 miles the previous day, day 12 is going to be a breeze. On this day I shall gander (I am running out of synonyms for: walk) the mere 28 miles (10 hours walk) from Plymouth to Fowey (pronounced Foy, apparently). On this day I shall finally pass into Cornwall and the county of my birth (Cornwall). I expect nothing but clear skys, big waves and old people from here on in.

The lovely seaside town of Fowey/Foy

Day 11 (and the promise of media coverage)

I few weeks ago I sent an electronic internet-mail to Ipswich's premier local paper the Evening Star/East Anglian (as far as I can tell they are the same thing apart from one is available in the morning and the other in the evening) telling them about my walk. Today they called me, I answered a few questions and tomorrow I am having my photo taken. I am not sure whether to dress smart, in the hope that my appearance helps me to raise more money, or dress like a fool, in the hope that my appearance amuses my friends.
I'll let you know how it goes.

Today is my mammoth day. on the 11th day of my walk I will cover 41.8miles (14 hours walk) purely because I didn't think there was anything interesting to see in the area, just barren land. I will be shattered. I think I have somewhere to stay that night, so at least I'll have somewhere comfy to sleep.

Day 10 (and a tale of boots)

Firstly lets get the boring stuff out of the way. On day 10 I will amble from Lyme Regis to Exeter, this is a distance of 28.8 miles and will take approximately 10 hours.

Great. Done.

Today I thought that it would be a good idea to go for a walk to Levington, a relatively short walk (about 4 miles from my front door (I keep my front door at home)) to try out my borrowed boots and see if this charity walk will be as hard as people are telling me.

Other than being caught in a monsoon the four miles passed in about 45mins and the walk was pleasant enough. At this point I said (to myself, but also out-loud):

"I think I'll take the coastal walk home."

Monsoon

This would add about 2 miles to the return journey, but as the weather was clearing (coupled with my preference of travelling a nice distance like 10 miles rather than the outwardly offensive 8 I had intended to do) I thought. why not?

This question was soon answered.

About half a mile into my walk coastward the sole of my left boot 'left' my boot. My emotions were:

• Initial confusion
• Unfounded hope
• Realization
• Panic
• Drowsiness
• Acceptance

I trundled on a little further safe in the knowledge that my boot was still doing more good on my foot than it would do off it. This soon changed, more layers of boot flaked away until it was just weight on my foot. So I took it off and carried it.

I walked for 5 miles.

I walked for 5 miles over sharp stones.

I walked for 5 miles over sharp stones and shells.

I walked for 5 miles over sharp stones and shells and (a surprising amount of) broken glass.

I walked for 5 miles over sharp stones and shells and broken glass and through (surprisingly deep) water.

To add insult to injury I passed three shoes on my walk. 

The first was a brogue, black, about my size and for the right foot. Bugger.

The second was a DC, black, about my size, for the right foot and filled with what can only be approximated as custard. Double bugger.

The third was Clarke's, navy blue, clean, in near perfect condition and it was for the left foot. Perfect, or it would have been if it wasn't unsuitable for anyone with a foot larger than a Coke can.

I eventually made it home after passing several amused dog walkers (none of whom offered any help whatsoever). Now I have prepared a little game. I am about to show you 4 pictures, 2 belong to my right foot and two belong to my (roughed up) left. See if you can match the pictures to a foot.

A

B

C

D

Answers on a (e-)postcard (owenjohnston88@msn.com) for your chance win a (soiled) insole.
Oh, a big thank you to Lawrence for the boots! 

Day 9

Another hugely uneventful day planned. Weymouth to Lyme Regis. 27.7 miles. 9 hours.

Pfffft.

Lyme Regis... In the past.

Day 8

Week two will begin early one morning in the lovely seaside town of Swanage. I will then weave my way along the coast until I hit Weymouth, roughly 27.7 miles and 9 hours walk away.

There is little to note about Weymouth other than decent footballer Steve Claridge has a spell as both player and manager there... Sorry.

Three men in white dance around Steve in order to improve this years crop.

Day 7

The end of my first week.

I will be walking from somewhere in the New Forest to Swanage (city of lights!) this will take 10 hours of walking and I will travel a total distance of 30.1 miles.

But wait there is more! I will get into Bournemouth at about lunch time, then I shall make my way to Sandbanks to catch the ferry! This means that I will be able to stick to the coast and will maybe get a few lovely views and have a chance to rest my (most likely blistered) feet.

The Ferry

(Potentially) my feet.

I will then only be an hour or two from Swanage. The local tourist board has recommended to me the following:

• The Swanage steam railway
• Corfe Castle
• The Victorian pier
• And the Tank Museum
• 
  

Steam train passing the castle

I doubt I will have time to take in all these sights, but I will sleep all the more soundly with the knowledge that they are there.