BIG READ: The light tread of slow travel

Two men, one on a bike through green and sometimes rainy England and Wales, the other hiking the hot and dry Kruger National Park in SA: the contrasts are stark, but the similarities are there.

While BBC journalist and author Steve Silk peddled his way through the landscape, doing about 80km a day, South African José A Neves joined a group to walk through one of our most famous game parks. Each trip is an example of slow travel, an increasingly popular way to experience the world, and each trip relied on the fitness and stamina of human power.

In Go West, the subtitle says it all: “London to the Welsh Coast — 8 Days, 2 Wheels and a Whole Lot of Hills". Taking off on his bicycle, a 2016 Jamis Aurora tourer, Silk roughly follows the A40, which is based on an old mail coach road that ran from London to Milford Haven.

I say “roughly” because he rarely rides that road, rather veering off onto side roads, making impromptu stops and following diversions on the way. It means he experiences quiet villages, ruins, churches, idyllic-sounding scenery, rivers and more. He normally cycles on Saturday mornings with a group of friends, and they join him for the Welsh part of the journey. Thanks to some pre-ride logistics, he switches to a Voodoo Bizango mountain bike at Monmouth.

There is a helpful map at the beginning of the book to guide those less familiar with England and Wales. Each of the eight chapters, for the eight days, also features a map showing the day’s route.

He starts in London and, unlike some cyclists who go zooming through the country and rough it with tents somehow strapped to their machines, Silk says “sod it” to that and stays overnight in a series of delightful places. These range from a Travelodge in High Wycombe, an Airbnb in Eynsham, and a historical coaching inn in Gloucester.

As to the motivation of the journey, Silk writes: “Either way, there is undeniably something special about a holiday on a bike. A holiday spent overwhelmingly outside with a form of transport that places you squarely in the landscape rather than behind a windscreen. A holiday where you will talk to strangers — just because two wheels make better humans of us all." He also mentions that his journey could be called a form of “undertourism”: cycling in one’s own country, treading more lightly on the earth, as it were.

And so, rather than packing camping gear, he brings along company in the form of books by Edwardian Charles G Harper, who also cycled this route in the early years of the 20th century and wrote about his experiences. A grumpy fellow was Harper (Silk’s words), and he intertwines some of Harper’s descriptions in his travelogue, which offer fascinating comparisons to modern Britain. In addition, Silk peppers the narrative with small histories of some of the places he visits. In Witney, a glance at a clock face gives him pause as he contemplates there is no minute hand, a norm until the second half of the 18th century, showing that time was once far more fluid.

Deciding that St Paul’s Cathedral in London will be his zero point, Silk offers a series of amusing observations, not least of which are groups of cyclists that whizz past him, who, he realises later, are using electric bikes, so he doesn’t feel so bad. Silk’s humour livens up what is an already lively narrative.

The trip takes him through the Chilterns, Oxford, the Cotswolds, the Wye Valley, the Brecon Beacons, hugging canals and on Roman tracks through the Welsh mountains, and a day off the bike on a white-water canoe trip.

Silk is an astute observer of nature, and there are lovely passages throughout. Here’s his description while travelling through Wales: “I insist on a short detour to the village of Defynnog and in particular the church of St Cynog. I’m learning to love the way these buildings sit, squat and whitewashed in the landscape — as though hunkering down, ready for the next storm."

Silk is a fun, affable yet thoughtful companion, with a keen love of bicycling that he imparts in this entertaining book as he meanders through an England and Wales that sounds breathtakingly beautiful.

Meanwhile, Neves’ Walking Wild is a personalised account of his 605km backpacking journey through the length of the Kruger Park. His journey takes place over six stages (or legs) and three years, starting in 2019, and then resuming in 2021, with the Covid-19 pandemic interrupting the annual walk. He continues into 2022. There is a helpful map at the beginning of the book that indicates which sections were walked and when.

Called the Kruger Trail, this is a series of backpacking hikes led by two experienced rangers, and there is room for eight paying hikers on each leg. Walking wild means that there are dangers: from encountering breeding elephants to a lone buffalo. And, of course, poachers are still active in the park. While not an immediate danger to hikers, their presence cannot be entirely discounted. Neves devotes pages to a discussion of the effects of poachers in the park.

The trail itself started in 2018. The guides are armed with SANParks-issued .458 rifles or their own rifles. The distances of between 15km and 20km a day are covered with a heavy backpack. Each leg of the hike is about 105km and takes place over a week. Even though the walks are scheduled in the cooler months, Neves explains that the weather can still be harsh and hot. He also explains that hikes are done in silence, with every member on alert: “To walk wild in the Kruger is to hike with respect for every living thing.” At night they camp where they can using the tents they carry.

As to the motivation of this journey, Neves does not explicitly address that, but he comes close to his reason for walking the trail by writing, “We are closer to life when in the wild: the vulnerability of birth, defence of the young, the place of the aged, and where death coldly diffuses life back into the ecosystem. A part of the magic of the wilderness is the silence, coupled with the dusty dirt, the smells, and the feeling of being part of the circle of life.”

The journey begins at Crooks Corner, in the northern part of the Kruger, before eventually ending in the south at the Malelane Rest Camp. While Neves undoubtedly finds the bliss of that silence, the journeys are also filled with hardships to be endured. They find themselves running from elephants and in the danger of artillery fire at one point. When they hear the roar of a lion one morning, and then again later on, the guides remind them that if they encounter the cat, they must not run, and give complicated instructions as to how to retreat.

There are more heart-stopping moments with elephants as the pachyderms linger on both sides of a river, and they are trapped. Of this encounter Neves writes, “I felt drained of energy. We had nowhere else to go by that stage and were at the mercy of nature.”

Drinking coffee made from brackish water is a more minor inconvenience, of course, but the painful dressing of blistered feet is another hazard of the trail. There is, however, a real sense of camaraderie in the group of eight strangers who walk the trail. Neves makes mention of some of the reasons for undertaking what sounds like an arduous journey. Some return on the other legs, and the group changes, though there is a core group that hikes all six legs together.

Beyond remembering how not to run from lions and warily eyeing other dangerous animals such as hippos, there is also the beauty of watching animals that don’t pose a danger, from zebras to impalas, or watching blue and red dragonflies flitting around.

Neves also layers his narrative with facts and figures about the bush, such as a discussion about the deciduous buffalo thorn tree and the legends and superstitions associated with the tree. He writes that the Nguni believe the thorns tell us to look to the future but never forget where we come from.

Comprising six journeys altogether, this is a packed read, and there are some overlapping experiences, such as the dangers faced from elephants. I believe the book could be pruned somewhat. However, Walking Wild is an informative window into what it’s like to hike and sleep in the wild with all the thrills and dangers that encompasses. It is a fine and necessary travelogue.