Interview: 1 Woman, 2 Hospital Dates, 3300 Miles Round Wales

© Ursula Martin

Three years ago, aged just 31, Ursula Martin was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. As she recovered, she hatched a cunning plan: to walk from her home in Machynlleth to a hospital appointment in Bristol. Starting in March 2014, her trip then morphed into a grand walking tour of Wales, following rivers and long distance trails in a tangled 3300-mile web of the country, with the odd stop-off for hospital dates along the way. She is doing it to make her life 'a little wilder', to raise money for cancer charities Target Ovarian Cancer and Penny Brohn Cancer Care, and to publicise a disease with a shockingly poor survival rate. Ursula carries a smart phone, so we managed to get in touch to ask her about the journey so far - 2150 miles in, and counting.


 "It's very important to me to tell women about the symptoms of ovarian cancer. It only has a 47% survival rate over five years, and the one-year survival rate in Wales is the lowest in the UK. I carry cards with the symptoms on them and hand them out wherever possible - it's as important as the fundraising. Know your body and love yourself."

On Snowdon  © Ursula Martin
On Snowdon
© Ursula Martin
The wild Rhinogydd  © Ursula Martin
The wild Rhinogydd
© Ursula Martin

 

Several times the length and breadth of Wales, via numerous hills and wild camps, in all weathers: It's quite something. Did you have a strong background in walking and the outdoors before starting this challenge?

I've travelled a fair bit, spending months, even years at a time living out of a rucksack and weeks at a time living outdoors in various forms of bivvying and camping.

I wouldn't have called myself a serious, committed walker, more that I use walking as a simple way to travel, the most basic form of getting from one place to another. I started to walk because I saw targets on maps. The length of a river winding through Galicia in Northern Spain was my first major walking journey - about 400km, it took me a month, without detailed maps.

"I prefer the trickle of satisfaction from a long slow journey, something that anyone can do, starting from their front door, with very little experience or equipment"

I don't enjoy sports like paragliding, the collecting and preparation of vital equipment, waiting for the right conditions, driving many miles to the right spot, the laying out, the preparation, all for, at most, 20 minutes of high adrenaline. Then you laboriously gather everything together and head home. I prefer the trickle of satisfaction from a long slow journey, something that anyone can do, starting from their front door, with very little experience or equipment.

One of my travelling experiences has been to kayak the length of the river Danube, 2500 km from Germany to the Black Sea. It took us two and a half months.

When I travel slowly it gives me a greater, immersive sense of the land and culture that surrounds me, rather than the quick, brightly coloured flashes of train or air travel.

On Punlumon  © Ursula Martin
On Punlumon
© Ursula Martin

The Route

One Woman Walks Wales map  © Ursula Martin

 

  • The river Severn
  • Offa's Dyke Path
  • Wales Coastal Path
  • Cistercian Way
  • Coast to Coast
  • Cambrian Way
  • Welsh 3000s 
  • The river Conwy
  • The river Dee
  • The river Teifi
  • The river Twyi
  • The river Usk
  • The river Wye

It's all explained here

So what initially sparked the idea for this Welsh odyssey?

I had a bout of ovarian cancer three years ago. I'd reached the end of my kayak journey and was living in Bulgaria. It was during a UK Christmas visit that I found out I was ill.

As well as the shock of a major illness, another thing I found hard to deal with in the aftermath of my diagnosis was the schedule of hospital appointments, stretching five years into the future. I'd set off from Ingolstadt, Germany, in my kayak full of belongings with no idea of what would happen at the other end, no plans, only that I would sell the kayak and find somewhere to live. To go from that to having my next five years pinned down - well I didn't like it at all.

I settled in Machynlleth, post cancer, all thoughts of international travel postponed while I recovered both physically and mentally. At that point I needed safety and roots rather than uncertainty and strange surroundings. I used walking to recover. Living four miles outside town without a car was a great opportunity to walk to recover my health (and a very quick way to get to know my neighbours when they all stopped to offer me lifts!).

As I looked at maps of the area I realised that from the mountain Plynlimon, only a few miles from me, rose three rivers, two of which, the Severn and the Wye, ran all the way to Bristol where I had my cancer treatment. A plan formed - I'd walk to hospital and back again. So, six months after my illness I did just that: A journey of 400 miles, walking and wild camping. That was the journey where I found out whether I was myself again, post cancer, whether I still enjoyed the same level of discomfort, uncertainty and mild danger. I did, thank goodness.

So a bigger plan formed. I'd walk down the river Severn to a hospital check up but I wouldn't walk home, I'd walk around Wales for six months, back to hospital and then home again.

I'd raise money for two cancer charities (Target Ovarian Cancer and Penny Brohn Cancer Care) and I'd try to raise awareness of the symptoms of ovarian cancer. It's travelling, which is for me, but also taking my newfound cause into account.

photo
Enjoying it?
© Ursula Martin

" I doubt anyone's ever looked at a view and thought 'I drove across that'!"

How did friends and family react to the idea?

I don't recall any particular shock or suprise. My family are used to my travelling and sudden fits of unusual ideas. I guess when you've already kayaked to the Black Sea and your sister has crewed a boat across the Atlantic, a walk in Wales is pretty mundane. 

What has progress been like since you started back in March 2014?

It's taken about twice as long as I'd thought to get 2150 miles in. Firstly because I very much miscalculated the daily distances. I basically chose a set of interconnecting paths based on the Long Distance Walkers' Association list of long distance paths that pass through Wales. I also chose pairs of rivers, the Conwy and Dee for example, so that I could walk up one river to the source, across to the source of the next river and down it to the sea again.

The time for my walk was decided by the hospital schedule, and then I decided the route based on the excited picking of paths: Ooh, I could walk up this river and down that one; Ooh, I could go over all the mountains from north to south and back up again.

I made my list of paths, factored in a day off per week, and calculated I'd walk ten miles a day for the first month and fifteen miles a day for the second. Then I divided the remaining mileage by the remaining time, giving me 19 miles a day to walk - for six months. Experienced walkers will, I'm sure, be snorting at my naievety but that's what I set out to walk.

I was managing a solid fifteen miles a day but then unfortunately foot problems started. I now have plantar fascitis in both feet and try to stick to ten miles a day to avoid major, challenge-cancelling pain and injury.

Once I'd overcome the realisation that I wasn't going to do the walk in the time I'd set myself I was able to relax and just say ok, as far as you can get in any given day is fine. The point is that I stay with this and complete the distance, not that I'm the fastest... which I certainly am not.

Camp on Sarn Helen  © Ursula Martin
Camp on Sarn Helen
© Ursula Martin

What section are you currently on?

I'm coming south on the Coastal Path and have just completed a circuit of Anglesey. All that's left to do now is the Mary Jones Walk, the Dyfi Valley Way, the rivers Twyi and Teifi, the Taff and the Usk and, once I reach Bristol on the Coastal Path, the river Wye to take me home.

"I didn't actually train for this at all!"

Have you started thinking yet about likely finish dates?

The only thing I can say for certain is that the first half took me eight months! I'd like to be quicker on the remainder, perhaps finishing by May 2015. But it's winter, the weather is bad, the days are short and my feet are struggling, if I'm honest. I just don't know and really it doesn't matter. I've postponed my hospital appointment with the permisson of my doctor and hope to be able to arrange it for when I do finally limp into Bristol, but if they tell me to stop messing around and get there then I'll just have to skip ahead. That's the only real pressure to finish, that and my dwindling savings.

What did you do to prepare yourself for such a huge challenge?

It's shameful to admit I didn't actually train for this at all. In fact I lost condition and gained weight in the months before I set off. I was working as a home carer in Machynlleth to save money for the trip, but as most people will know, you have to work incredibly hard to earn excess money in the care industry and so my schedule of fifty hour weeks wherever possible and, at times, about a day off a month left no time or energy to train. Foolish huh? If I'd trained perhaps my feet might be in better shape now; but I know there's no point wondering. Many fitter people than me might already have given up.

As far as preparation went, in order to avoid the total panic that came with the thought of setting out on a 3000 mile walk I found it helpful to think of it in imaginary terms. What would I need if I was going to set out on a long walk? I had no idea if I could actually achieve this, just as when I set out to kayak the Danube, and if I thought about it too much I'd panic.

The lovely Llyn y Caseg-fraith in the Glyderau  © Ursula Martin
The lovely Llyn y Caseg-fraith in the Glyderau
© Ursula Martin
Where I slept last night  © Ursula Martin
Where I slept last night
© Ursula Martin

So how are you holding up so far, physically?

My painful feet are really the most limiting factor on this walk, that and the fact that I carry a 12-15 kilo rucksack. My feet are strapped to reduce tendon pain but I've experienced shooting pains in most of the bones and joints of my feet at one time or another. For example, when I first set off my big toes were very painful, now they haven't hurt for months. At the moment I have pain in my left heel and right shinbone although I'm sure, with experience, that it will fade. I try to stretch as often as possible, though if you wake up in a very small tent in the rain there is no such luxury as a place to practise your sun salutes, so I just have to get going.

I also struggle with very tense neck and shoulders as a result of carrying the heavy rucksack. It's one of the most frustrating things about an unsupported journey. On the days when my bag is taken ahead for me I can manage about a third more distance.

It actually helps me to have minimal rest. When I do take more than one day off in a row, that's when my body starts to hurt all over.

Does it take discipline to keep heading out day after day? And what keeps you motivated?

It's hard at the moment. In the middle of Winter the urge to hibernate is strong, and part of me wishes I could stay lounging in bed doing nothing for more than a couple of days every few weeks. But there's just no point giving up halfway through, it would waste all the effort I've put in to get this far.

I am really really enjoying myself so I think that helps. There has never been a time when I've thought about giving up. I guess I just haven't found my limit yet. The support I've received from people has helped, I've had a huge network of people opening their homes to me which gives me a physical break from camping, the ability to keep clean and refreshed and the boost of human contact. I know by now that I'm incredibly stubborn and determined. I also know how tough I am, but that also makes me not want to shatter that illusion by stopping.

Have you ever doubted that you’d finish, or have you remained confident throughout?

From the start I was totally unsure if I could do this; it's a huge walk for a relatively overweight, untrained person to manage solo. I remember completing the first hundred miles or the first river, all the way down to Bristol, and thinking Yes, I can do this, I can actually do this. When I completed the first thousand miles I knew I could finish it. If you can organise yourself to walk one thousand miles, you can walk an infinite distance. Three thousand, five or ten, it won't matter, just get the first thousand under your belt and you'll feel like a pro.

" I realised that instead of walking with a purpose, a target, a distance, I could just walk and whatever I did was fine"

The hardest time, mentally, was when my foot strain first started to show itself, back in May. I had ten days off, combining my inability to bear weight on my right foot with some dentistry for a broken tooth and when I went back to the walk I was struggling to walk five miles. All the pressure of the timescale I'd created came crashing onto me, I'd been walking for two months with the constant calculation of mph and daily distances clicking away and suddenly there was the fact that I was failing my targets badly. A phonecall with my brother really helped and I realised that instead of walking with a purpose, a target, a distance, I could just walk and whatever I did was fine. That has helped massively.

I'm still not sure if I will finish, that is I'm totally sure of myself from my head to my ankles but I don't know if my feet will handle the strain. I just keep going, doing what I can and trying to push myself without pushing too hard.

photo
A wandering Wonder Woman... well why not?
© Ursula Martin

How have you coped with the recent hard weather?

Well I walk much more slowly when the wind is against me. I'm also much more likely to compromise my daily distance in order to fit in the offer of a bed. So if it gets to 3pm and I'm at someone's house I'll stop there rather than walk the extra hour until dark. The short days are more challenging than the weather, giving me a finite amount of time to walk in. During the summer I'd quite often walk until 6 or 7, stop for an hour or so and then walk some more until 9 or even 10pm. Going from that to having to stop at 4pm is very limiting. The cold is much more easy to deal with than the rain.

What sort of help are you getting along the way?

This is an unsupported walk - it's just me, a rucksack and a smartphone. There are many times that I've wished there was someone following me with a campervan - it would be a great deal easier, indeed I'd probably have finished by now. I'm not sure that everyone comprehends the difference, and how much harder it is for me. I do have people coming to walk with me now and again and they're always very welcome (do get in touch of you'd like to) but it's 95% a solo experience.

I presume that much of the route is new ground to you: is discovering all the intricate ins and outs of Wales on foot a big part of the fun?

It has been wonderful. I was born in Wales and have lived here as an adult for fifteen years but have learnt more in the last ten months than ever before. As well as all the clasically beautiful places that everyone knows about, the amazing part is the new and gorgeous valley over every hill, the tucked away patches of woodland, the old buildings, and most of all the people.

It's been ten months of constant landscape experiences. Some memories at random: The twisted church at Cwmyoy; the beauty of Castell y Bere in Llangollen; wild camping at World's End then walking over the moorland towards dawn and hearing the burbling calls of black grouse; climbing up through the housing estate of Penrhys and turning back to see the great greening slag heaps lining the sides of the Rhondda valley; waking up on the slanted shape of Cnicht; the protective curl of Tenby harbour; the familiar pines and highlands of mid Wales; coming suddenly out onto the lookout above the Conwy Valley; being blown over by the wind next to Llyn Crafnant; seeing Tryfan for the first time; finishing the south face of Pen Yr Ole Wen in the dark and crying at the bottom; every time I stand on the side or top of a hill, seeing the rolling view open up before me and thinking "I've walked that"...

In particular, as I came up the Offa's Dyke Path towards Welshpool, I came over the brow of a hill and could see the town and the valley below, showing where the passage of the river Severn had flattened out the valley bottom. I traced the path of the river with my eyes and had a sense of my small antlike steps, following that river all the way down to Bristol then turning inland and walking up the ODP, bringing me up to the point where I stood now and for the first time I had this huge satisfying sense of the traversing of the landscape, all the more satisfying because I'd walked it. I doubt anyone's ever looked at a view and thought "I drove across that"!

If anyone was considering a massive walk like this, what advice would you most want to offer them?

Don't be put off; it is your mental ability to innovate and endure under pressure that will be your most important asset. What you think might happen will be infinitely worse that what actually will. Wear two pairs of socks. Make friends with someone with a campervan and time on their hands.

So far your fundraising has passed £7100: Is there a specific target?

I'd like to make it to over £10,000 but, like the daily mileage target, the actual amount doesn't really matter. You can donate here.

 

 

 



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