In July 2026, for my 50th birthday, I decided to do something insane. I walked from the west coast of England, dipping my feet in the Iris Sea, all the way across the country to dip my feet once again in the North Sea. I chose to walk the Wainwright Coast to Coast Trail which goes the width of England in a 200 mile trail through three national parks over a two-plus week period. I’ve never done any real hiking before but walking across an entire country seemed a suitably epic way to celebrate my 50th.
I did this not just as a physical challenge but a chance to get away it from it all, out in nature, away from the phone, to give myself the time and space to let everything fall away and just think. What had I learned from my past 50 years? Who am I now? Who did I want to become? These are all questions I asked myself everyday as I hiked. Or tried to when I wasn’t rock climbing the sides of mountains, getting lost in vast farmland or huffing and puffing up the endless mountains. What follows is a daily journal.
Day One
As tradition demands I started off at the beach in St Bees, northern England off the coast of the Irish Sea. I grabbed a small rock from the ocean, which I would throw in the North Sea when if I finished. And I stepped gently into the water, getting my boots baptized for the trail.
Normally the trail starts at the beach and goes along the cliff along the ocean for a few miles, but last summer the cliff collapsed and now that whole section is blocked off for repairs. Instead they have a small detour that brings you inland and cuts a few miles off. As someone who has never hiked before, much less 200 miles, I’m not gonna complain about a few less miles. The first day is supposed to be 14 miles, but according to my fitness watch it turned out to be 12.5 without the damaged section.
And the walk was nice! Through the peaceful countryside, the sound of sheep bleating all around, birds chirping, wind blowing. I had a few rules and no music or podcasts was one of them. I wanted to go to a state of constant hyper awareness and busyness to one of peace and contemplativeness. I couldn’t do that with music blasting in my ears.
The first day had the first mountain, 1,155 feet tall. But the thing with the Coast to Coast is Wainwright, the trails founder, devised several sections with a high route and a low route. I know I’m no hero, and I wanted to last the entire trail so I know that climbing mountains unnecessarily would sap me of strength I would need later. So I took the low route.
Not that it was devoid of mountains. I mean, the trail just splits for a bit so you still need to walk close to, or on the side of, the mountain. It’s just in this case part of the uphill was on a small country road instead of a rocky path. It just so happened that this small country road was also the first location of the true hiking experience: peeing outdoors.
It was a road with trees and bushes on each side, but closed in by old stone walls so I couldn’t go far. But some of the trees were quite tall, had a canopy in which to hide in and buses in front to block me. So after standing still for awhile at a suitable tree listening for any approaching cars, I finally got the courage to jump in the bushes, pull down my pants and pee.
I live in China so I’m really good at squatting while I pee but I had walked so many miles by that point my legs were tired and when I went to stand I realized I couldn’t. I went back down into a squat, gathered my strength and lifted myself up…right as a biker zoomed by me.
Not a great pee experience.
The trail left the country road and went into the mountains. I had stunning views of fields of heather, sheep, and mountains all around me. The high route ended and the two trails merged again and it was a couple of miles of walking a rocky path to the final destination: Ennerdale Bridge.
I hadn’t seen too many hikers at all today, but when I arrived at Ennerdale Bridge, and was walking to my B&B, I passed by a couple that I had seen at breakfast at my B&B this morning. We waved and said “We’re going to get ice cream,” pointing to the one shop in the village.
“We deserve it!” I answered and we all chuckled. This morning at my B&B I sat with another hiker, Hanna, an older woman who lived in Hawaii and we had a good chat over eggs and bacon. I could tell there was going to be some nice hiker camaraderie on this trail.
I found my B&B, a cute grandma style house, and got my room. Turns out I was the first hiker to check in. I was faster than everyone else! This would give me extreme false confidence for the upcoming day, but that day I basked in my ability. Maybe I was better at this hiking thing than I thought!
It was still early, around 3:30 so I went to the only shop in the village, bought a drink and sat down to write in my diary. They closed at 4 so I didn’t have much time but as I was leaving I heard a familiar voice and saw Hanna at the counter talking to the staff (While Hanna is American she grew up in Germany and still has a distinctive accent). Her B&B was outside of town and she needed to call a taxi to take her. It would be about 15 minutes so we sat outside as the shop closed and chatted about our day as I waited with her.
When her taxi came I walked back to my B&B and waited for 5 when dinner would start serving in the pub downstairs. I was the first one there, and chatted with the bartender, a young guy who grew up in this village, while I ate. He told me Ennerdale Bridge had about 200 residents. I also grew up in a small town (though much bigger than that one) and I said I couldn’t wait to get out and see the bigger world. He said he went to college in a big city but missed his hometown when he was away (and then missed the big city when he was back.)
It was nice to hear because I had read in a guidebook how some of the small villages that I would be passing through were dying. Besides from the hiking season when they had visitors that would fill the pub and hotels, most of the year was dead. So dead that the locals couldn’t really sustain many businesses and several of the villages no longer even had a grocery store. Locals would have to drive to a larger village just to get eggs and milk.
I know that’s just the way the world is, I certainly wouldn’t want to live in these tiny villages, but you can really feel the history and tradition there and it would be a shame if they were abandoned, so it’s nice this young kid liked living there so much.
And as the night went on the pub filled up with both hikers and locals. I chatted with one guy that asked me about my next days plan. I had to go around a giant lake and I could choose either the rockier south path, or the easier, but supposedly more boring, north path. I asked for his suggestion.
“I just ran around the lake today. Both paths are great,” he said. Ran around?! The lake would take me hours to walk around just one half and he ran the whole thing? Impressive. But with his assurance I chose the easier north path (I’m no hero, remember?)
Right when I was finishing these two ladies sat down next to me. They were sisters and they grew up near where the trail ended. They were walking the coast to coast for the first time, but were experienced hikers. One of the women still lived in the north and had a really heavy accent I had trouble understanding. The other had moved near London so she had a more standard accent. Which is good because she was warning me about the weather the next day.
“Rain, Heavy rain. Probably torrential downpour,” she said. I saw on the weather forecast that it was supposed to be rain, but I didn’t see torrential. “Leave early, bring your waterproofs and when it starts, just keep your head down and keep trudging through it.” I expected I would have some rainy days, but I didn’t want torrential rain! And on my second day!
I finished and stood up to go back to my room when I ran into more people I “knew.” It was a family I had run into when I was leaving my B&B this morning. They were in the room next to me and we had a quick chat and learned we would be hiking the same trail. But now, as they were sat waiting for dinner, we got to know each other a bit.
I told them I lived and worked in China and they told me they each had already hiked this trail before and it was the first time they were doing it together. Also, they told me their relationship which was rather odd and took me a moment to figure out. There was the girl, 30’s-ish and her father and her aunt. Byt her aunt was from her mother’s side and her parents were long divorced.
“Is that weird?” I said looking at them. “You guys still get along despite divorcing her family?” I asked that dad. The daughter told me that her aunt was married to her dad’s best friend so they had remained close through the years. They laughed knowing it was weird, but they all seemed happy about it and agreed to this trip, so good for them.
Then I went upstairs and fell asleep before it was dark out. I was exhausted but had survived day one. And it was easier than I expected!
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