Competa Walking Festival

My sister lives in this beautiful corner of southern Spain - about an hour east, and slightly north, of Málaga. The scenery is stunning, the roads terrifying (hairpin bends like you wouldn't believe), and the walking challenging.

Knowing of my love of hiking, she flagged up to me the Walking Festival that takes place in the region each September. This was its 13th year, and as far as I can tell, there were at least a hundred of us in the various groups that spent four days trekking in the region. 

Now, then. When I booked, there were only places left on Level 3 - the toughest one. The Level 3 distances for the four days ranged between 15 and 19 km (9.3 and 11.9 miles). As a daily three-mile walker, a veteran of two marathons, and a frequent walker of 10-15 mile distances, I thought, well, it's four days on the trot - but I should be OK.

On day one, I discovered my mistake. Yes, I knew it was steep and with rough terrain - and I've met that too, in the beauties of the Peak and Lake districts back home. But this was in a league all of its own... The steepest climbs - of which there were at least three on day one - were beyond anything I'd ever met. Not quite scrambling, but two-pole assisted rocky slopes, and minor roads which at times (according to a fellow walker) were in the one-in-four category.

I managed Day #1 - by the skin of my teeth - by opting out of the final steep upward climb; I simply hadn't any power left. Happily, one of the other walkers, who knew the route well, was kind enough to offer to take me around the foot of the final peak - still stony and tough to walk, but much flatter. 

Much to my relief, the organisers are happy for folks to switch levels after the first day, and it was with relief that I joined the Level 1 set for the remainder of the Festival. These were much more in my line - still with their challenges (there is no such thing as a relaxing walk in this area!) and some steep ascents - but kinder and as a result more enjoyable. Interestingly, by day four my legs had just about started to become accustomed to the constant steepness. Not easy to keep this sort of training going in Norfolk, however!

I had a truly amazing four days. I met so many kind and friendly people - many of whom were my age and substantially older, and displaying an awesome level of fitness. The scenery was, of course, utterly spectacular, and the sense of achievement very empowering.

We concluded the Festival with a buffet meal, medal presentations for all who had walked (at whatever level) on all four days, and lots of mutual congratulations.

Below are links to photographs, short video route maps, and statistics.

***

Day One (Level Three)

Distance: 8.59 miles / Elevation: 1955 feet

Video map: https://www.relive.com/view/vPOpkBZ3QRv

Photographs: https://photos.app.goo.gl/puQU6sBKDyZg4Fye7

Day Two (Level One)

Distance: 4.00 miles / Elevation: 831 feet

Video map: https://www.relive.com/view/v4OGr38xo5v

Photographs: https://photos.app.goo.gl/BXxcbHB8HUGpcTFh7

Day Three (Level One)

Distance: 2.75 miles / Elevation: 804 feet

Video map: https://www.relive.com/view/vdvmkxYN4N6

Photographs: https://photos.app.goo.gl/h6awUfoq2gCTynTC8

Day Four (Level One)

Distance: 6.30 miles / Elevation: 1457 feet

Video map: https://www.relive.com/view/vYvExBoZBGq

Photographs: https://photos.app.goo.gl/arLBfvkG8XTFeyrS8

LEJOG: did it!

Triumphant to have managed the whole 1,083.8 miles with one week to go (final miles achieved on Christmas Eve). This is the last of the 'virtual postcards' that appeared along the way in my inbox!

Doing some serious walking around / through / across the UK for real would be a truly wonderful thing to do - except that my other [very enjoyable] commitments (theatre / church / decluttering clients / friends / family / husband) would probably go somewhat askew if I did... Any chance of cloning myself?!

LEJOG: 90% there

 In January 2021, I knew that I badly need a new target. I'd slipped back on many of my health and fitness goals, and I know from past experience that a specific aim is helpful to my motivation.

It was Kim who pointed me in the direction of LEJOG: the Land's End to John O'Groats challenge, via the Conqueror Challenge. This is one of a selection of virtual distances all over the world: you clock the real distances you've walked, but they are logged on a map showing where you would be along that route had you been walking in that location for real. I chose LEJOG as being an achievable target based on previous years: this particular route covers 1,083 miles, which across a year equates to just over 90 miles per month. Having managed 80 miles per month consistently for eighteen months back in 2017/2018, I reckoned I could aim a little higher.

The year started pretty well, and for the first four months of the year I actually exceeded 100 miles per month. The summer months went into decline; as we all struggled with the uncertainties of the lifting of lockdown but the continuing dangers of COVID-19, I suffered like so many others with uncertainty and a lack of motivation, and my weight rose again as my mileage decreased. However, I gave myself a metaphorical shake in August, my monthly mileage exceeded 100 miles again, and now - mid November - I have just over 100 miles to walk in order to 'reach' John O'Groats in the next six weeks.

During 2021 I've enjoyed some wonderful hikes - some (the shorter ones!) with my husband, some with friends, but mostly I have enjoyed solitary excursions, between five and fourteen miles. When we've managed some lovely holidays in the UK, my patient husband has been happy for me to take a day out alone to explore new territory. In April I walked over 14 miles along the Cranborne Loop in Wiltshire, and in September nearly 13 miles between Blanchland and Hexham in the beautiful Northumberland countryside. 

On average, I'm investing one hour per day in my walking activities. Time for me and for my health. And as I approach my 59th birthday, it becomes more than ever vital to my wellbeing that I continue to do so.

Running again

It's a very long time since I did any running. I got into it, in a very modest way, back in 2007/2008 (I used to blog about it here), and loved it: adrenalin rush, economy of time, great cardio - what's not to like?

What wasn't to like was injury. I had a couple of painful calf muscle episodes, but they were sorted with the help of a lovely sports masseur. However, after attempting a 10K run (rather than my usual 5K maximum) without enough training, I ended up with a nasty bout of plantar fasciitis, which started in the autumn of 2008 and continued for a full two years. Anyone who's suffered it will know why I'm terrified of its return: even a walk round the shops was painful, and simple sightseeing was agony, never mind running.

Additionally, a really serious sprain on a walk in 2013 left me with a right ankle that will probably never again be quite right - and the nerves about ever doing it again.

I went to walking, and once I'd cracked my weight problems and fitness routine in 2014/2015, this became my staple exercise. Now I achieve a regular 80 miles each month and it keeps me sane and fit.

However, in expanding my routines and aiming to build up the cardio, I have decided to try again. I probably won't ever want to go for the long-distance, high-impact stuff again. But I feel it's important to get just a bit of speed in; to be ready for my Nuclear Rush (muddy run) challenge, with my Mother Nature's Diet buddies, in May, and to be able to run comfortably between obstacles; to bring in another level.

I've just completed the first week of Couch to 5K, and so far so good. Gently does it. I should reach the 5K distance exactly in time for Nuclear Rush, and all being well I'd love to run the Wroxham 5K (last time was in August 2008... oh, my).

Watch this space.

A walk in the snow with an inspiration

I don't write about many of my walks these days; it's become such an integral part of my life that it would get pretty boring for the reader (especially those which are regularly around the same local routes). However, there are some special times that are worth recording - such as my marathon walk, or the different sections of the Norfolk Coastal Path - that mean something special to me.

I'm writing this on a fairly warm, drizzly day in early March. It's hard to realise that just a week ago we were facing several inches of snow coupled with 50 mph winds: the media called it 'The Beast from the East'.

It so happened that two days before it hit severely, I'd spotted on social media a posting about a young lass called Frances Mills, who was walking the whole coast of these islands. Having started in October 2017 at Bristol, she was at this point making her way up from Suffolk. Check out her website here.

The lady making the posting mentioned that Frances was happy to meet and walk with people, and although she was camping most of the time, was always happy to be offered a bed for the night. Living just half-a-mile from the beach, and happily having a couple of days free, I got in touch. She replied with enthusiasm, and I arranged to pick her up from our coastline on Tuesday evening, to give her a meal and a bed for the night, and to walk with her the following day to her next planned stop, just beyond Happisburgh - about 15 miles north of here.

In the event, I was lucky to get home. I'd been working with a client in Thetford that day, and mercifully got back before the snow became too deep. My husband picked Frances up from near Hemsby, and I arrived back shortly afterwards. We shared a meal and chat, and planned the following day. We realised that the snow (by now falling thickly) and (more importantly) the increasing winds meant that camping on Wednesday night, as she'd planned to do, would be more than 'wild camping' - so we insisted that she spend that night with us, too. Selwyn would pick us up from Happisburgh and bring us back.

We set off in reasonable conditions from the Rectory the following morning:

- but within a very short time it turned into a blizzard along the beach as we headed north towards Hemsby...

The wind was behind us, which helped! And as we continued, the weather did improve, with even some sun coming through. After a couple of hours we paused for a snack, sheltering in the dunes from the still strong wind.

However, at this point my husband sent me a text explaining that he'd tried to get out of the village in the car, only to find roads blocked in all directions; so we had no option but to make the route a circular one. We walked the 7.5 miles to Sea Palling, mostly along the beach, and stopped for a very agreeable lunch in the pub next to the lifeboat station. We then retraced our steps on the other side of the dunes to minimise the windchill (now in our faces). We met drifts of snow of impressive depth:

We arrived back after 15.5 miles of walking in a bit over 5.5 hours. We'd had a brilliant day, chatting most of the way, seeing the seals at Horsey, pointing out birdlife, and getting to know each other.

Click here to see our route.

The following day (Thursday) proved to be so awful, with such high winds, ice and snow, that Frances decided to take the day off and to chill out with us. We went out for a very short two-mile walk up to the beach and back, but otherwise stayed in the warm.

As she'd lost a couple of days' progress, and was aiming to reach Hunstanton (the end of this phase of her walk) on Sunday, we knew she had to reach Sheringham by the end of Friday. We were planning which roads would be best to get her there, when she calmly announced that she'd leave Winterton at 6am on Friday and walk it. That's thirty miles. And, of course, she made it with no trouble.

This young lass is a true inspiration and a delight. She's cheerful, delightful company, intelligent, determined and undaunted. I am completely awed by her and honoured to have shared that couple of days with her. I'll be watching her progress over the next two winters, as she works towards completing the whole 4,500 mile circuit (this bit was 1,300 miles or thereabouts).

Dream the dream and make it happen.

On the nursery slopes

One of the main purposes of this lifelist exercise is to try things that I'm no good at, and probably never will be - but have a lot of fun doing it, and push the boundaries of what I think I can do. This activity definitely came into that category.

Lovely friend Kim booked this 'taster session' on the Norwich dry ski slope for me as a birthday gift. I knew I was nervous, but until I saw the slopes I didn't realise quite how nervous. Watching people coming down the 'real' pistes (as opposed to the 'nursery' version that we were using) was alarming and exciting.

Once again, my inner control freak looked at the speed of descent and panicked... much to Kim's amusement, as she's used to me normally being pretty confident in most circumstances.

However, we had an excellent tutor (Toby) for our little group, and once I'd tried one (very brief) descent without mishap, I realised just how much fun it could be. We had several goes down the slope - mainly using the slowing 'snow plough' position. I couldn't manage the 'bunny hops' - testing the balance - at all, but Kim did them beautifully. I only fell over once, which in something like 8 descents or so wasn't too bad.

I still find it pretty difficult to imagine being swift and confident on real slopes... but I can completely understand the appeal, and especially that of skiing on real snow among glorious scenery. I might just give it a try some day - and if I do, I'll be back to visit the lovely guys at the Norfolk Snowsports Club for training. Watch this space.

Full album of photographs here.

Getting my skates on

I had somehow managed to get through my entire childhood (and life so far) without trying either form of skating - ice or roller. I suspect that my 'control-freak' tendencies have a lot to do with this; any kind of skating involves a lot of trust and not a little 'gung-ho' attitude.

However, when I saw that the regular 'pop-up' rink was visiting Norwich again across the Christmas-New Year period, I reckoned it was time to try it out. I put a call out on Facebook, and as a result was joined by my lovely friends Kim (regular buddy for most of my fitness activites, especially walking, for the last decade); Christine (a happy meeting through the Mother Nature's Diet group), and Andree (lovely colleague from local small business networks). Andree being the most experienced, she showed us the basics and helped us out beautifully. We were watched and photographed by two husbands (mine and Christine's).

Kim had skated before too - many years ago, but it didn't stop her showing loads of confidence and as a result doing a great job. She's definitely got the gung-ho attitude. (It also meant she fell over more often!)

Christine managed to strike out on her own very competently after a few circuits. I kept hanging on to the side for a lot longer...

Although I left the side eventually, I didn't manage to strike out on my own at all on this occasion - the thing I couldn't get the hang of was the movement to push off and hence travel under my own steam,  rather than using the side of the rink to pull along, or using the propulsion of my friends holding my hands. I think if (when) I give it another go, I'll probably get over that mental block and manage a bit better. I think, however, I did display a style all of my own... :D

(Click here for the ten-second video of the above moment...)

It was a wonderful moment when we (briefly) moved out together - although as it was a small rink, we were quickly told not to keep a row of four, as we took up too much space! Made a great photo, though, and sums up a wonderful occasion.

Meantime, however, this was an enormously enjoyable evening, spent with some fabulous and patient friends (and ending with an excellent Thai meal as a day-late birthday celebration for me).

I'm so glad I gave it a try, and we've promised a return visit when the rink returns to the Castle Gardens next winter. Watch this space.

Full album of photographs here.

Walk 1000 miles: my medal

As my monthly mileage targets have increased (60 miles from March 2015, 70 from March 2016 and 80 from March 2017) so, of course, has my twelve-month total. I was especially pleased recently to realise that this meant that in the twelve months starting on 1 December 2016, I'd finally exceeded 1,000 miles in 12 months.

I'm a member of the Facebook group that exists to celebrate and encourage exactly this goal. I have to say, when I started, I couldn't imagine myself managing 1,000 miles in a year!

So when I published this achievement to the group, it was lovely to have this posted to the comments...

Thank you to Walk 1000 Miles and Country Walking Magazine for such a fabulous initiative. Changing the world, and our health and well-being, one step at a time.

Ambulo ergo sum, indeed.

Climbing mountains

Two mountains in two days. An extraordinarily kind period of weather in late October. A group of eight of us (plus the adorable Max-the-dog) climbed Blencathra and Skiddaw, near Keswick in the Lake District. An experience I never dreamed of, and views that literally made me weep at times.

I was invited by my good friend James, a fellow member of the local theatrical fraternity and in particular the Sewell Barn Theatre, and we were joined by several of his friends across two days. The first day involved six of us (two of whom split from the main group to climb a more challenging route!) climbing Blencathra; and a further two people joined us for Skiddaw on day two.

I was the oldest (by a couple of years) and one of the least experienced. The members of the group were wonderful, keeping an eye out for everybody, taking it at a pace that we could all manage, sharing resources and encouragement. Oh, and of course, Max the dog (a beautifully behaved, nine-month-old, JRTxStaffie), who belongs to Ed but soon decided that it was his job to supervise the whole team.

Both days were blessed with wonderful weather. In both cases, the summit was shrouded in cloud, but we didn't miss much in the way of views, as we had clear and beautiful views within a very short time in both directions.

Click on the links below to view photographs and route for each of the two days.

Blencathra - Thursday 26 October

868 metres / 2847 feet

Photographs

Video of route

Skiddaw - Friday 27 October

931 metres / 3054 feet

Photographs

Video of route

Upside-down in a hamster wheel

This was quite a special and unusual experience. It didn't figure on my original list, for the simple reason I'd never heard of it. Through my connections with the world of circus aerial hooping, I came across this extraordinary activity, and was fascinated to know more: German Wheel.

The basic kit is a construction of two parallel wheels, linked with metal handles and foot straps in various places. The trick is to control the wheel in various ways, from a simple cartwheel to vaulting over the wheel to two-person activities to sitting on the crossbars to one-handed spins... and so on. This video gives you a general flavour.

As far as I can work out, there's only the one group in the UK that offers training in this exciting activity; so I was fortunate that it was at least in East Anglia, at the Kesgrave Sports Centre in Ipswich (albeit almost 2 hours away from me). I'm told that people travel to the weekly sessions from all over the country - one lass was known to drive from Barnsley to Ipswich for a two-hour session and then drive back again...

I was excited to attend a half-day introduction to the activity. The tutors - Anna, James, John and Konrad - were friendly, professional and passionate: a winning combination. They take great care and lots of time with each member of the group, whether total beginner or seasoned acrobat.

It requires a fair level of fitness, and there's an intensive warm up to start with. It's challenging and sometimes painful - the weight on the feet in the straps as one turns upside-down, tightly attached (obviously), results in some bruising; and the use of the arms throughout tests the biceps and triceps to the max. The control of the wheel when you're constantly changing direction takes a lot of concentration - and the potential speed of movement can be scary to the point of nausea.

However, on getting accustomed to all this unusual use of the body, the sense of achievement when one manages a solo cartwheel for the first time - two revolutions down the hall - is pretty extraordinary.

I met some other fabulous people on the day, too - a couple of familiar faces from my 'budgie-hooping' sessions, and others who ranged from beginners like myself to experienced and intrepid wheelers. I made friends with Daniele,whose yoga background made her a natural, and we tried out some joint moves...

This was one of the greatest challenges I've taken on so far.  There have been moments during my Life List where a real stomach-churning fear has floored me initially - but I've usually managed to overcome it. There was the first time I tried breathing through the tube of a snorkel, and through the scuba rig; there was the first leap off a high tree-mounted platform into a cargo net or along a zip wire. The first time I turned upside-down in the German Wheel was one of those - but it was amazing how quickly I got accustomed to it. With practice and experience, I might bring at least a tiny bit more poise and confidence to the activity - although I doubt I'd ever reach the extraordinary heights achieved by experts like the four tutors. (Look up Konrad on YouTube to see what I mean.)

It's a long way for me to travel, but I don't eliminate the possibility of doing it again. The charges for the regular classes are exceptionally reasonable, the people friendly and professional, and the feeling of achievement amazing. Meantime, this was a fabulous and memorable experience that I wouldn't have missed for the world.

Click here for a few photographs of the day

Click here for the full playlist of my short videos

Reasons: for Clare

In May 2016 I spent a superb weekend with friends. We took a fairly long (12 mile) walk through the beautiful Wiltshire countryside; spent the night under canvas; shared chat and laughter and information and life stories.

I shared this experience with a particularly good friend who lived nearby. Clare and I had been planning to get together for months (she was in Oxfordshire, I in Norfolk), and this seemed a great opportunity. We took a full weekend for me to share not only the above walk, but also a magical day in the wonderful city of Bath with Trudy, fellow founder of APDO, of which Clare was a highly active and vital member. Such happy days.

I couldn't have known that this was the last time I was to see Clare. She was troubled by illness across that summer, and had several stays in hospital and an operation. Her positive attitude throughout reassured her many friends and professional colleagues that she was on the road to recovery. However, in early November, I received a devastating message from her, letting me know that she had been diagnosed with inoperable stomach cancer, and that she might have "as little as six months". (In the event, it was less than two months.) Just at that time, I was on a course with the Mother Nature's Diet group, many of whom had met Clare on that wonderful May weekend.

Clare continued to be in touch with many friends, sharing and creating experiences with her loved ones, never once showing fear or anger or self-pity. Her glowing personality continued to shine through as she shared love with us all.

I planned to visit her in mid December, and was saddened to hear a few days beforehand from her lovely son, saying that visits were no longer possible from any but immediate family. I consoled myself with the memory of that beautiful few days in the May sunshine, enjoying the open air and friends and exercise and food and companionship, and knowing that this would remain with me.

Clare passed away on the penultimate day of 2016. In just over 59 years, she had achieved more and given more love and happiness than many do in a further two or three decades.

On Thursday 2 February, I met with many of Clare's friends and family, including five other members of APDO, to celebrate her life.

Her End of Life Celebrations Fund - which sadly she had too little time to make much use of - has been reinvented, as per her wishes, as Clare's Legacy Fund, intended to help people at a crossroads in their life.

There is no greater reason for continuing my Life List activities - and, indeed, all my life activities - than the pursuit of love. As Clare said in her message to me about her diagnosis, "It's all so simple really when it comes down to it, love really is the only thing that matters. And living life to the full, which I intend to do for whatever time I have left."

I turned 54 years old just a week after Clare's death at the age of 59. I may reach her age, or not; I may surpass it by weeks or years or decades. None of that matters. What matters is what I do with each minute, each hour, each day that I am granted.

Rest in peace, beloved Clare. Your friendship was the greatest gift, and your example the finest inspiration. Thank you.

The life list so far: 7 months in

Original photo collage was here. I've added a few experiences since. Exactly seven months today: March 1 to October 1.

Click on the image for a closer look. Clockwise from top left (months are first encounters, but not necessarily last):

• budgie-hooping (circus aerial hooping) (March)
• Go Ape circuit (April)
• scuba try-dive (April)
• indoor climbing (March)
• snorkelling with seals (September)
• cycling (April)
• Nordic walking (September)
• spend a night under canvas (May)
• walk 15 miles (September)
• open water swimming (May)

Plenty more to come...

Walking: the Nordic way

When I was on my sponsored Bridges walk, I saw quite a number of folks - of all ages - walking (usually much faster than me) with lightweight poles. I'd come across references to the technique several times recently, and having discovered that the lovely Barbara Ives occasionally leads walks and runs training sessions, I resolved to give it a go, booking myself in to one of those sessions for just after our return from holiday.

So, having arrived back in Norfolk on the Friday afternoon, I found myself setting out on the Saturday morning for the recreation ground near Catton Park, just to the north of Norwich. We were lucky to have a beautiful day for it, just a touch of autumnal cool and wonderful sunshine. Including Barbara, six of us were there.

Barbara started by passing out the lightweight poles and explaining how to adjust the length to suit our height. We warmed up with a few stretches (using the poles for balance), then moved on the walking technique.

The key words to remember were 'soldiers and lemons'... the 'soldier' reference being to keeping the arms as straight as possible in a marching action (while moving the poles and managing not to drag them on the ground); and the 'lemons' being ensuring that the front of the foot pushes fully down (as though squeezing a lemon under the sole), using the whole length of the foot. We all found quickly that these guidelines resulted in a much more upright posture and unusually rapid pace - and arms & shoulders that were unaccustomed to so much activity!

We then moved across the road into Catton Park for a circuit of around two miles. I found it quite difficult to keep the arms straight and the rhythm of the poles going at first, but this had improved by the end of the walk.

Here's the group pausing for breath and consultation - and selfies! - partway round.

It was easy to see why some of my walking colleagues on the Bridges Walk had kept up such a punishing pace. I think if I tried that I'd need to get some of the little rubber 'feet' to stop to clunking of the sticks on hard pavement! It would be interesting to see how differently the technique works if I try it on our beaches - always a challenge at the best of times, especially if the tide is high and the walking therefore on soft sand.

Finally, we returned to the car park after a very enjoyable couple of hours. I would definitely love to get some poles for myself - although they're not cheap (the version we were using are around £70). However, they'd be a great investment and would last for ages. Let's see how the post-holiday client bookings go...

This was another highly enjoyable new 'lifelist' experience - well worth trying for a new approach to a commonplace fitness activity, and one which may well become a more regular part of my life. Meantime, it was a lovely group, a great instructor and a beautiful day. What's not to like?

Click here for information on Nordic Walking, and click here for Barbara Ives' website.

Snorkelling with seals

A few photos are shown below (click to view a larger version); you can see the whole album here.

When I did my scuba try-dive, way back in April, that opened up another possibility: snorkelling. Having got to grips with the rather bizarre sensation of breathing through the mouth alone, I figured that the surface-of-water nature of the rather more straightforward activity (and without a socking great tank on the back!) would be OK: and it was. Finding myself with the opportunity to try this out during our holiday in the beautiful Isles of Scilly was a real delight.

The Scilly Seal Snorkelling team is based on the tiny island of St Martin's. High winds on our original intended trip (Friday) scuppered that day, but Saturday was fine. As the tripper boats don't go out from St Mary's early enough, Anna and Lewis collected us from the quay in their RIB (rigid inflatable boat) to travel to St Martin's. That in itself was an exciting experience - belting through the waves!

Once at the quay, we were kitted out with the various layers of wet-suit - including boots, gloves, hood - then fins and mask. (The hire of all the kit was included in the very reasonable £45 session fee - I only needed to take swimsuit and towel.)

Then it was back in the RIB to travel to one of the many tiny, uninhabited (except for the wildlife) islands near St Martin's. Once anchored up in a bay, from which we could see dozens of seals basking on the rocks, we had a debrief, and then we were in.

I was oddly nervous as we started - mainly getting back used to the no-nose-breathing. However, Anna stayed close to me until I found confidence, and I was soon able to breathe through the kit and remain with face submerged for long periods of time.

My only handicap was (as with scuba) my short sight: obviously I couldn't wear specs, and I didn't want to risk losing my (rigid gas permeable) contact lenses. However, it's also true that the goggles and being underwater corrected my vision to an extent so I was quite happy. I've decided that for any further similar adventures I'll get a supply of disposable soft lenses.

The seals are wonderfully inquisitive. Within a few minutes of us all getting into the water, they'd started to come up to investigate. As Anna had warned us, they often approach from behind, nibbling our fins, and can make you jump when suddenly a large mammal swims around your legs without warning! You can see the chap below on the right of the photo watching us as we were all looking under the water...

The other bit of kit that I dearly wished I had was an underwater camera. When (not if) I get the chance to do this again, I'll definitely invest in one. Seal after seal swam across my vision, sometimes some yards below and sometimes right up to me; the closest twined around my lower body very gently before swimming off. There were also small fish, a few inches long; and beautiful fronds of seaweed dancing from the rocks.

I popped back up to the boat briefly to share with my husband (who was watching and taking photos) what I'd been seeing. He told me that the seals had been following us when we didn't know it:

... and also coming right up to the boat to check it out.

The wetsuit ensured that the water didn't feel cold at all, and only right at the end of the 90 minute swim did I start to feel that it was time to come out. As I relaxed into the environment and became confident, I felt increasingly in awe of the opportunity I'd been given: interacting with and observing these gentle, playful creatures was such a privilege.

Finally our time was up, and we all returned to the boat. Hot ginger tea and Twix bars were on offer to revive us. We all shared experiences as the RIB returned to St Martin's, clearly all thrilled and excited by the encounter.

The tide was low as we reached the island, so our final job of the trip was for the swimmers to get out and wade in pulling the boat containing the non-swimmers! It was probably less than half a mile, but that was quite a workout...

The whole of our visit to the Scillies was a true delight and a wonderful experience; this morning's excursion was indisputably a major highlight for me. Another challenge to my notions of what I could and wanted to do, an extraordinary encounter with nature; special beyond words. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Long walk: the London Bridges Trek

The aim: to be able to walk a marathon distance in June 2017 without keeling over. The training: gradually increase the distance of my longest walks, and add in more medium-length walks, for the intervening 9 months. The additional benefit: sponsorship to fund-raise for my choice of charities.

Having managed two 12-13 mile walks in recent weeks, this was my first 15 miler: a walk across the bridges of London, from Putney to Tower. Roughly 25K (15 miles). I publicised it, asked around, and was rewarded with generosity and support from many friends.

I lost two dear friends to pancreatic cancer - which is (I believe) the fastest, least often detected, lowest survival rate cancer in that ghastly cast list - during the last couple of years. So - as much for awareness-raising as for scientific research - I chose to support Pancreatic Cancer UK.

At the time of writing, I've raised £610 (plus in many cases gift aid). Thank you, all, so much. (The link to my fundraising page is here.)

***

Additional bonus: meet up with work colleague of (whisper it) almost 30 years ago. The fabulous Janice was walking with some present-day workmates, in aid of Small Steps (helping young children with disabilities). I hadn't seen her since a reunion in 2011, and before that since I moved jobs in 1988 or so. We won't leave it so long next time.

So: off we went. My 'wave' set off at 11:45 from Putney.

It was a very damp day. By the time we reached the 5K mark, it was raining heavily - although thankfully, most of the rest of the day was no more than a drizzle. Still pretty soggy by the end, though. Funnily enough, it didn't bother me too much. If it had been very cold or extremely windy, I think it might have been a different matter; but warm rain isn't too unpleasant.

I took just under five hours to walk just over 15 miles - hence a pace of a bit under 3 miles/hour. Which I thought was pretty good over such a long distance - until I realised that Janice had got in about half an hour before me having started 15 minutes later!

I chatted to a few other walkers along the way; but mostly was quite happy with my own thoughts. Observing the busy life of Londoners and visitors alike, seeing areas of the capital that I'd never seen before (to my shame - having been born a Londoner); appreciating some magnificent architecture, buildings and bridges alike. I took a photograph at each bridge - some selfies, some of the bridges; you can see the whole album here if you're interested...

I have to say that the one disappointment of the day was the poor quality of food supplied at the lunch break (Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens). This being a major physical challenge, and considering that in many cases we were fund-raising for health-related charities, I was baffled by the lack of healthy food.

Apples were the only items that weren't stuffed full of sugar or additives. Danish pastries? Mars Bars? Haribos, for goodness' sake? Even the cereal bars, when one examined the contents, were overloaded with sugar (which is, after all, one of the main causes of cancer). And no, you don't need sugar for energy; far higher-quality carbohydrate can be obtained elsewhere. Where were the bananas? The plain nuts? The green stuff? At the risk of drum-banging on this topic, I wish that the organisers (Action Challenge UK) would think a little more carefully about this element of  their event - which was otherwise pretty well organised. They could learn a lot from my colleagues at Mother Nature's Diet. OK, rant over.

***

Finally, shortly after 5pm, I was greeted by the aforementioned speedy Janice, together with my lovely husband. T-shirt, medal and congratulations all round. (I had a nominal mouthful of pink fizz but declined the free hot-dog...)

I was thrilled and proud of what I'd achieved. I've learned that London pavements are a good deal harder on the joints than Norfolk country lanes and beaches; that I have more resources and determination than I thought possible; that I don't mind walking in the rain; that many hundreds (and thousands) of people want to challenge themselves and often to support charities at the same time; that there is a great deal of open-hearted generosity in the world. I was proud to be part of it all.

Long walk: training with a friend

It was a real pleasure to share this walk with a good friend, Christine, who I met through the fabulous Mother Nature's Diet. We spent the whole walk - around 5 hours, including a pause for lunch - chatting nineteen-to-the-dozen about all aspects of food, exercise, health - and life in a holistic sense. It's fabulous to exchange thoughts and experiences when you're so much on the same wavelength - and seem to share quite a few life experiences!

The route we followed was the one that I tried out on my own three weeks ago, starting in Holt, up past Greshams School and Voewood, off through Kelling Heath and past the steam train line; and up to Salthouse for lunch. Then back out of the village and heading south, back into Holt through the forest.

Here we are at the fabulous lily pond on Kelling Heath early in the walk.

The day started beautifully sunny, and our paths across Kelling Heath and up to Salthouse were wonderful. Butterflies everywhere, and we're moving into blackberry season, so did a fair bit of scrumping along the way...

We stopped, of course, at Cookie's Crab Shop to buy dressed crab for lunch as I had last time - delicious.

We felt a few spots of rain as we left Salthouse, and it turned into a gentle drizzle as we made our way along the footpaths that cross the fields running parallel with the sea, then turning sharp left along the edge of the fields. By the time we reached Kelling village and the road past the church it was raining fairly insistently, but the forest provided a fair amount of cover. By the time we reached the outskirts of Holt again we were fairly soggy...

However, the rain couldn't stop us continuing to enjoy ourselves, swapping thoughts and ideas, and delighting in the fact that we were (notwithstanding a few aches) both pretty comfortable walking what was very nearly a half-marathon. 12.6 miles (if you're observant you'll see that's half-a-mile less than last time; having tried it before, I got lost far less!), over 950 calories burned, and a respectable pace of almost three miles per hour, which wasn't bad.

As Christine has observed: not bad for a pair of Norfolk broads...

Next week: the 15-mile sponsored walk across seventeen London bridges, from Putney to Southwark!

Long walk: in training

Back in May, I spent a fabulous day with Karl and several of our Mother Nature's Diet colleagues on a long hike in the Wiltshire countryside. The 12.25 miles we achieved that day was the longest walk I'd done in several decades.

One of my aims for this list being 'to walk a marathon', I booked myself onto a 25 km (approx 15 mile) sponsored walk for September. I decided a couple of training walks of that sort of duration were in order, so asked among the group on Facebook if anyone wanted to join me. As a couple of friends are up for a long walk on 3 September, I reckoned that I needed to try out said walk before I dragged anyone else around it.

Today was that try-out day. Having discovered the very useful GriffMonster site, giving lots of different walks around the country but specialising in East Anglia, I selected a circular walk of around 13 miles, starting in the rather nice (and very smart) market town of Holt, walking through Kelling Heath and up to the edge of the marshes at Salthouse. I drove the hour from the east coast to Holt, parked in the main car park, and set off at about 11am.

It was, unlike recent weeks, a rather cool and cloudy day when I started out. I left the town centre and passed the impressive Greshams school, walking up the Cromer road for about a mile. The route then turned off the main thoroughfare, passing some houses in a quiet unmade road on the outskirts of town, and bringing the walker into the Kelling Heath Holiday Park. Plenty of holidaymakers in there, of course, and many walking the forest paths. It took me a couple of attempts to find the correct path up onto the heath out of the camp (my sense of direction is not the best!) but once there,  I was into one of the most enjoyable parts of the walk. The fabulous North Norfolk railway, complete with genuine steam trains, passes through the Heath, and makes you expect a visit from Jenny Agutter at any time - and the tiny station stop has a glorious view of the sea. A complex network of paths meanders through gorse and heather.

After crossing the main road just outside Kelling, I followed the footpath northwards towards the marshes at Salthouse. I realised that I'd overshot the turning that the route took to the left across the fields and retraced my steps to find it. Despite the footpath being clearly marked on the map, there was no point that appeared to be accessible, presumably due to the heavy foliage growth in the summer. So I continued northwards and instead followed the alternative footpath closer to the marshes, which brought me in to the same place anyway.

Being around 7 miles into the walk by this time, it was time to pause for refreshment. I knew from previous visits that the centre of the village included the splendid Cookie's - a cafe and deli specialising in all kinds of seafood. 

I bought a delicious dressed crab and retired to the grass next to the stream.

After resting for about half an hour, off I went again. I managed to find the tiny footpath just up the road from the Dun Cow pub; this path emerged across the middle of the crop fields, running parallel with the marshes and giving beautiful views towards the distant sea. By now the clouds had mostly lifted and the day was much warmer.

The path then turns sharp left and continues for about a mile along the edge of the fields before emerging onto a quiet road. I stopped briefly at the junction for breath and to enjoy the splendid view of the sea between the trees. 

The main road finally dips into the forest. Unfortunately there is no footpath through the forest that I could find; it's densely wooded and covered with ferns, so the safest place to walk was along the road. From here, the last 2-3 miles down back into Holt are mostly on the road, except for a short length of footpath, cutting behind the first residential area of the town.

I arrived back at the car park, a bit footsore but very happy with my achievement, around 4pm. I had plenty of time to change out of walking trousers, guzzle lots more water and gear up for the hour's drive home. According to my OutDoors app, which I'd used for the route for this excursion (and was later able to export to my usual Runkeeper), 13.2 miles (which happens to be my total mileage for the whole of the previous week), 983 calories burned (apparently) and well ahead of the game on this month's 70 mile target. Oh, and an average pace of around 3 miles per hour, which isn't bad for the distance and some fairly rough and narrow paths around the fields.

When I started the walk I was a bit dubious about it being interesting enough for other folks joining me on my next 'training walk'. However, I think that the lovely Kelling Heath; the splendid railway; the option to walk down to the beach at Salthouse; the beautiful paths from Kelling, and the bonus of Salthouse itself, all more than compensate for some slightly dull residential bits for the first and last mile of the excursion. And now that I'm familiar with the path and less likely to need to retrace my steps and constantly check the phone, I'll be able to spend more time myself appreciating the beauties of the Big Norfolk Skies.