Rut-ham to Hall-ing. That’s how they’re pronounced. Who says the English language needs consistent pronunciations? It adds character (pronounced char–actor). Parts of today’s walk were some of my favourite of the entire trip so far. With the wonderful late-summer sun, chirping birds, and gentle breeze, the miles-long tree tunnel was enough for me to feel enchanted. Were I in a fairytale, I would have laid down to fall asleep and never woken up again. It was that exceptional.

Do you remember when you were younger, you would have a Sunday where all there was to do was eat a lot of food and fall asleep on your bed, the warm afternoon sun shining through the window and making the room nice and cosy? Today was one of those days. To begin with, my walk was not technically from Otford, it was from Kemsing. This meant I had an hour less to travel before finishing. I also had lots of time to talk about a well, which has always been my dream pastime, and a

What started out as promising day turned into equal parts dull and painful by the end. I am more sore than I have been so far and one of my blisters is the size of my whole small toe. Which is odd, because you would think the walk would have raised no issues today. Leaving Oxted felt like leaving home again. I was so well cared for that it hardly felt like I was leaving a stranger’s house at all. They cooked breakfast for me, provided me with a replacement water bottle for t

Well, today certainly had an unexpected ending in the best possible way. The contrast between yesterday evening and this evening is like oil and water. But I’m getting ahead of myself just a little. We should start at the start. The stay in Merstham was quiet and passed without incident. My dinner was comprised of all the leftover chocolate from the hike that day, plus half the flapjack generously gifted by the church, plus a bag of Doritos from the Esso garage, plus three c

This morning was in the running for the worst start so far. Rain? Check. Cold? Check. Steep incline? Check. Hotel? Trivago. The sleepover at Westhumble had been fun, though my mum seemed to enjoy being in a sleeping bag again after 50 years far more than I expected. She was eager to donate to the chapel as thanks, too. I was glad that she came, and hope that she brings Freddie back with her on Saturday like she suggested. But it was raining already, and I had to meet a memb

You could say that this leg of the journey was the end of the beginning. Tonight is the first night that I sleep away from home, now I am far enough for it to be impractical. I’m on my own, so to speak, from here on out. To begin with, I watched the sun spill across the countryside from the ruins of St. Catherine’s hill. There are many more woods in Surrey than in Hampshire, it appeared from there. So, after crossing over the lazy River Wey, I started marching out of Guildfo