UK Edition
How to escape to the wild (and forget about modern life completely)
I know I wasn’t alone in feeling shocked the morning after the EU referendum. Although the world outside my window was the same as it had been the night before, everything was different. There was the sense of a coming change, which then proved dramatic: a prime minister’s resignation, the disintegration of political parties, a weakened pound. Given this turmoil it’s hardly surprising many people are experiencing a sense of personal disorientation.
Living in Britain today means being dependent on the structures of the modern human world – economies, housing ladders, jobs. But shake the frame, even a little, and we suddenly see how precarious it all is. We realise how inward-focused we’ve become, how far we’ve become disconnected from the wider, wilder world.
It’s exactly how I felt a few years back after moving to Yorkshire following a decade living in London working as a freelance author. My wife and I decided it was time to sell our shoebox flat and we quickly bought a house on the edge of Harrogate. The problem was that my wife was still working full-time in the capital, meaning I suddenly found myself alone in a strange town, in a strange house, in the depths of winter.
Then the recession really ripped the rug from under me; the job I’d moved for disappeared. The reaction was instinctive: I had to get out, away from the madness of a crumbling human world. So one evening I shut the door and headed for the nearest open space.
The weird, wonderful patch of ground I discovered wouldn’t exactly make a national park poster. A mile from my house, over a ring road and through a density of houses, there is an overgrown tangle of wood, meadow, field and river – an edge-land, inglorious and indifferent. But crossing over into it that night immediately changed me. I felt an atom-deep sensation of other-worldliness. My ears were thrilled by a fox’s scream and the kee-wick of a tawny owl; the river hissed and the trees knocked against each other in weird octaves. It started a process in me of reconnection. Returning day and night, walking through its woods, brambles and over soil thick and dark as chocolate cake, I found it was impossible to hold on to the concerns of town. Life became simpler and happier. My wife found a job in the north, moved up full-time and fell pregnant.
I began documenting my experiences of the space I’d found, its lives and layers – human and animal – which not only gave me a way back in to the human world, but a route into writing words for a living again. For many years I’d written on nature and sought wildness in the farthest reaches of the world. But I came to understand how “nature” isn’t a separate thing, but all around us. I realised too that a wilder existence doesn’t necessarily mean going off grid or living in a shack in the woods. It’s a lot about just getting outside, slowing down and being attentive.
To be still and hear the unexpected, bright choruses of birdsong, swifts returning or butterflies drifting between wildflowers is to be delivered into the possibility of escape from the constrictions of modern living. Such moments of “wildness” provide portals into the greater rhythms – season, day and night, the slow spinning of stars – and other, vivid lives that exist in parallel to our own. And we need that as surely as we need anything.
So if you’re feeling a little lost, depressed and untethered, try “rewilding” yourself a little. Follow these ideas to embrace nature and get started. You never know where the path may lead.
Walk wild
It sounds obvious, but changing even slightly how you walk makes a big difference. Instead of marching from A to B, slow down, drift off paths, find somewhere undisturbed and force yourself to sit there for 30 minutes. Then take off your boots and walk barefoot. As everyone knows from being at the seaside, feeling the landscape through your soles is a whole other way of experiencing a place.
Learn a new skill
Watching and listening to the natural world through the seasons restores a vital link, but learning to identify the things you see deepens the connection. Start by exploring what’s immediately around – whether a bird, insect, butterfly, plant or wildflower – then aim to learn a new thing every day. Draw or photograph species to research at home. Use the Collins Guides for reference or try sites like wildflowerfinder.org.uk or RSPB bird identifier (rspb.org.uk). Building knowledge like this turns wild spaces into never-ending stories.
Eat like an explorer
We’re encouraged to pass through nature, but not to touch. Foraging is the opposite. It requires intense scrutiny of our surroundings – weeds, flowers, hedgerows and trees. Many foragers see it as learning magic. You can pluck ingredients from the green blur and conjure up seasonal, nutritional and delicious dishes. Best to start with the easy stuff. Wild garlic is unmistakably pungent and prolific; on quiet, rocky coasts try picking mussels; or elderflowers are everywhere at this time of year, growing in aromatic bunches, and can be turned into an unrivalled cordial. A great starting point is Richard Mabey’s classic Food For Free (HarperCollins, £25) or recipe sites like eatweeds.co.uk.
Sleep under the stars
Sleeping outside in a wild place synchronises you like nothing else. Not only can you witness the spectacles of sunset, the stars and sunrise, but you also get to be out at dawn and dusk, when the chance of encounters with deer, badgers, foxes and owls is highest. Setting up camp on a mountain or a remote moor as darkness looms is hugely empowering. As well as a tent or a tarpaulin to keep you dry, the essentials are a Thermarest mattress (thermarest.com) to keep you insulated from the ground, a thick (4-season) sleeping bag and enough fresh water – or a means of purifying stream or river water – to last a few days. For wild camping spots: pitchup.com.
Common Ground by Rob Cowen (Cornerstone, £16.99) is available for £14.99 plus p&p. to order a copy, call 0844 871 1514 or visit books.telegraph.co.uk
Five natural wonderlands
Knoydart, Lochaber, Scotland
Billed as “Britain’s Last True Wilderness”, this peninsula of wood, river and beach can only be accessed by ferry or foot, providing the ultimate wildlife getaway. And you can wild camp too.
Orford Ness, Suffolk, England
Walk the trails on this vast shingle spit and spot huge hares, Chinese water deer, harriers, peregrines and migratory birds, all of which call this special expanse of creek, lagoon and heath home.
North York Moors, North Yorkshire, England
Great riding country. Impressive geological surprises like The Devil’s Punchbowl and the stunning Newtondale – Yorkshire’s own Grand Canyon.
Cnicht, Snowdonia, Wales
In North Wales’ Moelwynion Mountains, Cnicht is known as the “Welsh Matterhorn”. It’s far easier to climb and similarly spectacular. It even has a cave you can camp in on the way up.
Dartmoor, Devon, England
The iconic English “wilderness”, an extraordinary mix of open-moor, summits, Bronze Age spoils, streams and hidden woods. Follow myriad walking routes or blaze your own trail and wild camp for a night or two, thanks to a local by-law.