So I got out of London and headed to a town in between two ‘Areas of Natural Beauty’, what are labeled AONB’s on google maps. They were colored green and seemed huge. “What circumspection England has displayed, to set aside this much land”, I thought. And before departing I even switched the map to terrain mode, seeing some steep sections, I thought I would sleep under some cliffs or something. On the train there I found a cafe on google maps and thought I will eat there, then go into the woods. At the cafe, I switched to Satellite view and realized what a fool I was! I hadn’t looked at the satellite views! The AONB’s say nothing as to what the land is allocated for- mostly farming. But there was a woody section, and I finished my cafe cheeseburger, then ducked into the woods. I took most of these photos at sunset, while looking for a camping spot (illegal). I camped in a bivy sack and sleeping bag. It had rained and everything was wet. Plus it rained from 2am to 5am, but my bivy kept me dry! In the morning, I went to the same cafe, charged my phone, and planned the new day. My bag had moisture. I didn’t want it to begin to mold. It would rain for another day so I fled to a hostel in Bath for a few nights. I had some rethinking of the trip to do, and much good material to work with.
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I’m writing from Bath now and the camping trip is fading from my immediate memory, but what lasts of it are sore muscles and an excitement from using my ipad and cell phone in the bivy tent. With a 4pm coffee in my system and a cheeseburger to boot, I quickly realized what a terrible plan I had put into motion. The sun would set at 5:50, and my bedtime had been relaxed to 12am already, despite the 5 hour time zone change from Philadelphia. What’s more the sun would not rise again until 7:30am, so I knew I was in for a toss-and-turn evening. I found my flat spot under some trees and set up for the first time my rig; the British military self-inflating mat on the forest floor, the bivy on top, and the thirty degree sleeping bag inside. I’d slept in the sleeping bag in my hostel in London before, so I knew it could be too warm, but to my pleasure, it kept a consistent coolish temperature without dipping into extremes into the morning. Inside the bivy I threw my cell phone and Ipad, and I alternated between looking on google maps on my cell phone, and reading Gayatri Spivak and Foucault, and most importantly illustrating my visions on my ipad. Now illustrating on an ipad inside of a bivy yields its own unique challenges, primarily spacial, which brings me to my sore muscles. Having to push up and periodically turn over and reposition while prostrate and in a coffin-shaped tent, my full body became sore, even that night. Regardless, the space made my objectives very clear, easy to understand. A nice Cafe was not an option, nor a bar. It was just me and the tent, and knowing I wouldn’t be tired for another six hours, and trying to manage the battery life on my devices, while checking off some of the more arduous readings I can more easily put off when in a situation that proves more comfortable. Trapped with responsibility! I woke up when it began to rain, from 2am to 5am approximately, and kept monitor over whether the setup was leaking or not. I sometimes couldn’t tell, for my feet felt the coldness that made me think water had crept in, but it had not. Looking out of the vent window from time to time to check if it was light yet fueled my skepticisms that morning would ever arrive. Finally, at 8am, I, like a hedgehog, saw my shadow and began the emerging. I slept without clothes, as I heard it was better to do in a sleeping bag regarding insulation. I had a overcoat in the tent with me, and one in my backpack. I unzipped the bivy and reached into my rucksack to get the other coat. My plan was to quickly put on both coats, and it went off well. To my satisfaction the rucksack and its contents stayed relatively dry under a clear plastic umbrella I had bought in London while on a coffee run (for a new friend; a tattoo artist expat, who I’d met through a different new friend in Philadelphia, through The Rittenhouse Art Market). I’d seen hikers carry silly umbrellas and it looked like a gag, but then I saw a video explaining it’s practicality, and on the day before my camping trip, I (despite taking on extra weight) went ahead and bought one. What a good decision that was! The long handle with a hook doubles as a walking stick which has come in handy on the hike. It hooks on the arm and can be almost unnoticeable. In a downpour I can assure my pack and clothes don’t get wet. I built a raised platform out of sticks too to put the rucksack on top of, then put my shoes on top of that, then the umbrella. I didn’t secure the umbrella and was lucky it was not too windy.
I repacked the rucksack even though the bivy was wet on the outside, and went to the cafe, who catered primarily to motorists making scenic drives through the Surrey Hills, with a special focus on sports bikes. I had an English breakfast and scouted out where I would go next. Isle of Wight and Dorset were considerations, as I wanted to go West into Cornwall, but the weather forecast looked inhospitable. This partnered with the nagging feeling that I was carrying more weight than I needed (the second winter coat), made me want to go north sooner that’s later, to get the camping done sooner than later; and the camping was more plausible in the north than the south, beginning to pick up in the Cotswolds. I was also looking for a Hostel I could crash at, stretch out, dry my things and wait out some weather in. I picked Bath, because I figured there’d be plenty of cafes, and it would be interesting to take daytime walks around while organizing my backpack life.
I feel that I have made a great decision! From here, the Cotswolds lie to the north, Oxford to the East and Wales to the West. So, Cotswolds for three nights, Oxford for two nights, then Wales- into the Brecon Beacons. Perhaps in Oxford I can do my research on Kemeys Commander, Kemeys Inferior, and the Kemeys family of Wales, and pay visits to these towns.
I somewhat doubt I can make good mileage with my heavy pack by walking alone. All this whining about the extra weight, yet I’m carrying around two sketchbooks, a metal water bottle which is rarely full, this Ipad, a keyboard, an Imperial war museum small book, and some gouache paints. Oddly, the Ipad is not on the nix list. The remaining gear includes a water filter, the self-inflating mat, the bivy, the sleeping bag, and two sets of clothes. Of all things, I think my exit strategy from the weight is to send a sketchbook home, read the rest of the IWM book and leave it at this hostel, get the camping out of my system and maybe send that gear home just before spending November. 20- December 2 with Frances in Edinburgh, and at some point in there exchanging my old rags for some new clothes. I have my eye on some coveralls from the hardware chain Screwfix. I’ve been asking construction workers where they get their pants from. When I come across a Screwfix I will change out my pants, which I’ve worn out over two years. I’ve resorted to carrying a sewing kit, and spending my time on trains mending, a secret joyful memory and memory-in-the-making every time I get the chance to do it.
