Stefan Durkacz

Walking 300 miles through mountains and lowlands was a new experience for me. I'd never travelled so far on foot or been outdoors so long. I'm not sure I learned anything completely new, but that's not to say I didn't end up any wiser. It's one thing to be told something (however often), another to work it out for yourself first-hand, when your well-being depends on it. So, here are a few insights, lessons, and things I came to understand a little better during the walk. 1. You can't force the pace At least, not too much. The weather and the landscape are going to do their own thing. They don't care about what you think you need. Then you realise that you're only flesh and blood too: another part of nature. Some days are wet, miserable, hard going. Other days may be not so onerous but you're just not quite so up for it, the energy isn't there, you feel lethargic; or you may be feeling it from a big day previously. I got better at tuning in to mys

Heat, noise, traffic, crowds: another grimy August in London. It's been six weeks since I walked out onto Tentsmuir Sands, two weeks since returning to the Smoke and the nine-to-five. Some aspects of readjusting have been tricky, that's all I'll say. Then again it's always good to get back to your own space. After the walk was over we spent a nomadic few weeks around Scotland, splitting our time between Islay, Aviemore, a cousin in Sutherland and parents in Fife. My daughters are city kids, I have to admit - my oldest is three and she asked at least once a day: 'Why is it so quiet?' My other half and I oversaw as she got to grips with sand, seaweed and salt water; tall grass, trees and nettles; rain, sun and wind; and sticks, stones, rock pools and rivers. She was utterly engrossed, but never still. One evening at dusk we walked out to a lighthouse and back, jumping off every boulder along the way. Out at the beach or on little walks through the woods my pockets