Walking Home: A Poet's Journey

by Simon Armitage

Shortlisted for the Portico Prize for Nonfiction Nineteen days, 256 miles, and one renowned poet walking the backbone of England. The wandering poet has always been a feature of our cultural imagination. Odysseus journeys home, his famous flair for storytelling seducing friend and foe. The Romantic poets tramped all over the Lake District searching for inspiration. Now Simon Armitage, with equal parts enthusiasm and trepidation, as well as a wry humor all his own, has taken on Britain’s version of our Appalachian the Pennine Way. Walking “the backbone of England” by day (accompanied by friends, family, strangers, dogs, the unpredictable English weather, and a backpack full of Mars Bars), each evening he gives a poetry reading in a different village in exchange for a bed. Armitage reflects on the inextricable link between freedom and fear as well as the poet’s place in our bustling world. In Armitage’s own words, “to embark on the walk is to surrender to its lore and submit to its logic, and to take up a challenge against the self.” 29 photographs

Genres: Travel, Nonfiction, Poetry, Memoir, Walking, Nature, British Literature

304 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2012

About the author

Simon Armitage, whose The Shout was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award, has published ten volumes of poetry and has received numerous honors for his work. He was appointed UK Poet Laureate in 2019

Armitage's poetry collections include Book of Matches (1993) and The Dead Sea Poems (1995). He has written two novels, Little Green Man (2001) and The White Stuff (2004), as well as All Points North (1998), a collection of essays on the north of England. He has produced a dramatised version of Homer's Odyssey and a collection of poetry entitled Tyrannosaurus Rex Versus The Corduroy Kid (which was shortlisted for the TS Eliot Prize), both of which were published in July 2006. Many of Armitage's poems appear in the AQA (Assessment and Qualifications Alliance) GCSE syllabus for English Literature in the United Kingdom. These include "Homecoming", "November", "Kid", "Hitcher", and a selection of poems from Book of Matches, most notably of these "Mother any distance...". His writing is characterised by a dry Yorkshire wit combined with "an accessible, realist style and critical seriousness."

Reviews

[Caroline · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Pennine Way....

After flicking through it casually, I got this book from the library, I thought it would be a vaguely 'good enough' bedtime read. People walking or trekking in the UK isn't really my thing. Actually I thought it would be pretty boring.

Well, how wrong was I? It turns out that the book was written by our poet laureate, Simon Armitage, and as one might expect the man can write. This adventure started off with him posting an invitation on his website, saying that he wanted to walk The Pennine Way, giving a poetry reading at every overnight stop. He also asked for people to put him up for the night. Unlike most people he did the walk from north to south, and the book is all about his experiences.. Not all of those these were good, but whether he's writing about the pleasures or the challenges, he does it well.

Unless you have been lost in mist on the moors or in the hills, it is probably difficult to understand the true horror of the experience or fully sympathise with the suffer...... As we leave foursquare Alamo of Greg's Hut and begin the climb to the top, I feel the sorrow and unhappiness welling up inside me, anticipating what is to come..... The view ahead is nothing but a silvery, swirling mass, and we have disappeared. It is also raining, or at least the air is very wet, and the gusts of wind now sheering across the upper slopes are laden with water vapour, so we are soaked. Right on cue the track, which had narrowed to a path, then to vague ruts in the ground, gives up the ghost. We make more strides, onto what feels like a plateau, and now there are six or seven trails to choose from, none of them especially convincing.... "Shouldn't we be walking uphill?" Richard says, "This is uphill, isn't it?" And I say, "We're going downhill, I reckon," though now he's said it, I'm no longer confident of my own judgement. Because when the clouds fold in and the horizon disappears, it's not only the internal compass that goes haywire, it's also the altimeter, the gyroscope, the chronometer, the sextant and the inclinometer. And the lid that battens down the emotions, keeps them locked away and packed tight in a little box, that flies open as well.

Most of his poetry readings are a success, and he is often handsomely rewarded when he passes round a sock for contributions after each reading - but not all these evenings go smoothly.

I don't know where the audience comes from because Malham is a long way from most places, but they duly arrive, and their numbers are swelled by what I assume to be the enforced attendance of a group of geography students from a school in Norfolk and their two teachers. This week's residents at the Centre, they were probably looking forward to an evening of cigarettes and cider behind the log-shed after a hard day classifying lichen or dissecting owl pellets, but have now been marched along to a poetry reading. "You don't have to stay," I tell them, and wait for a minute or so, in silence, with my arms folded, until half a dozen of them pick up their bags and leave.... I find out later that the students were actually looking forward to hearing me read, because they'd been studying my poems for their exams, and only left because I seemed annoyed. I slope off into the kitchen looking for a knife to cut out my tongue, or a slice of humble pie. Other items on the menu are my own foot, which I find I can put in my mouth quite easily, and a bite from the hand that feeds me."

All in all the book proved to be the perfect bedtime read - I don't know if I would have enjoyed it so much if I'd sat down to read it for hours on end, but it was wonderful to dip in and out of. Full of warmth, humour and a nicely quirky perspective.

[Jim · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm thinking that two stars for this book is a bit harsh, but then I did find it somewhat of a slog. Not, however, half the slog that Simon found the Pennine Way and I might reread this if I ever find myself thinking it might be an idea to walk it myself. Like Bill Bryson in "A Walk in the Woods", I had the impression that the author really wished he'd never bothered. I mean, Bryson could write three hundred pages about a sock, but he suffered as much as Armitage does in trying to find something interesting to write about that doesn't just sound like some dull guide book. The bits I liked were when the poet does his poetry and meets some interesting people in the pubs and houses along the way. On the actual walk though, Armitage notes how unsociable other walkers can be. Very few stop to chat and just pile past him, head down, into the mist. There's a funny paragraph where he categorises the types he's noticed on the walk, but I kind of expected more of that kind of observation and humour in the book. In my opinion, Paul Theroux is still the best at writing this kind of travelogue and, while I did finish the book, I had to kind of push myself to.

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

He is slightly nervous of the challenge, and his wife is not sure that he would be able to complete it either. He has split the walk into manageable sections, and he is joined by others on each stage of the walk. Every day he is joined by some combination of family, friends, local guides and frequently complete strangers who have responded to his promotion of the walk. Even though he undertakes the walk in the summer he has a mixed bag of weather too, gentle sun some days to being soaked and blasted by the wind as he traverses the backbone of England. He is filled with doubt too; he can scarcely believe that anyone will walk with him, let alone pay to hear him read, but they do. Some of his largest reading have nearly 100 people there, and his collections for the event vary from £30 to a huge £500, as well as the oddities such as tickets, foreign coins and other random objects from people pockets.

Really enjoyed this, the way that Armitage writes is open and honest. His humour is self depreciating too, and his humility over his ability and talents means that you warm to him as a person. But he is immensely talented as a poet, and people respond to that and are warm and generous with their time, money and shelter to enable him to fulfil his ambition.

“Prose fills a space, like a liquid poured in from the top”

It is not a book filled with action and adventure, but rather the musings and thoughts of a man at home with nature and humanity.

[Nicky · Rating 4 out of 5]

I like Simon Armitage's work, and I like the north of England -- it's not as good as Wales, but it'll do, and the landscape is very familiar to me. I grew up in West Yorkshire, so the Pennines are very much part of my mental landscape. So this book was interesting to me in a lot of ways: I haven't walked the Pennines, but I'd like to (maybe not the whole Pennine Way); I'm interested in the way Simon Armitage chose to pay his way, as a "modern troubadour"; I'm interested in Simon Armitage himself.

It's a good read, full of Simon Armitage's slightly self-deprecating, wry humour. I laughed out loud at some parts, and most of all at his anecdote about a reading attended by a doughnut (a man dressed as a doughnut, of course), protesting that doughnuts can like poetry...

[Steven Godin · Rating 4 out of 5]

"In my own way I'm making good progress today, despite the fog, or perhaps because of it, with no view or vista to divert and distract, and that alluring, elusive brightness always up ahead, tempting me forward at full speed. One becalmed stretch of heath is populated by nothing other than thistles, some purple-headed, others topped with flaring white plumes, a lot of them a good five foot in height, absolutely perpendicular, symmetrical and still, ghostly in the mist, a further discouragement against dawdling or slackening the pace. In fact I am surging on, veritably powering forth, so much so that I've crossed the halfway point of today's section well before lunchtime and an hour later am on the long slow descent into Horton-in-Ribblesdale, with Ribblesdale itself dutifully opening up to the west and its main settlement emerging in the distance, a cluster of houses under the black border of a railway line and beneath the gaping white cavity of a limestone quarry, as if the hillside had lost a tooth. Distance, I've come to realise, is not the determining factor in terms of travelling time — it's all about terrain."

[Carolyn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Simon Armitage, an English poet, decides to walk the Pennine Way, a 256 mile trek down the spine of Britain, that starts near his home in Marsden and ends in Kirk Yeltham, just over the Scottish border. However to make it more interesting he decides to walk in the reverse direction, towards home, with the wind and the rain blowing into his face rather then at his back. He also decides to see if he can pay for his way along the trek by giving poetry readings at at each stop along the way at night as a sort of traveling troubadour.

This book has received mixed reviews by GR members, with many finding its lack of action boring. I'm not a great fan of trekking unless the weather is good and the countryside is interesting and there was plenty of bad weather and bleak landscapes in this book - who knew there could be so many desolate locations in the middle of England? However, I thoroughly enjoyed the book and his fine descriptions of all that he sees and does. Even at the worst moments, where he is lost on some desolate peak and ready to give up his writing is wonderfully descriptive:

The melancholy comes over me, the dismal misery of not knowing where I am, or perhaps losing any sense of who I am, as if the mist is bringing about an evaporation of identity, all the certainties of the self leaching away into the cloud.

Although in many places the journey is a hard slog with the elements less than favourable, the author writes with a quiet underlying humour and affection of the places he stays, the variety of poetry recitals and the people who walk with him along the way. Some of his poetry is included in the book and I would have enjoyed seeing more. The book would also have been enhanced for me if there had been a more detailed map for each section of his journey so we have some sense of where the natural features and landmarks he talks about are located. However, his journey has inspired me to visit some of the areas he travelled through if I ever get the chance, so that's a pretty good measure of success for a travel book.

[Anna · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 Reading this felt a little like walking the Penine Way. Let me explain: I started optimistically, engaged by the jovial tone, eagerly reading the opening chapters entertained by the carefully considered prose, and looking up maps to chart the route. I paced myself, anticipating the each chapter of an evening thus matching the pace of the walk. Then from about half way a sense of despondence settled, rather like a fine mist and I rather suspected I would quietly sneak off before the fog finally descended.

It wasn't that Armitage's writing gradually deteriorated, but somehow I lost my way and I couldn't determine why. I just couldn't gain a real sense of direction or purpose and searching for it through google maps became tedious. Perhaps I felt frustrated by the black and white photographs that did less to place the journey than the descriptions. Perhaps it was the absence of maps to chart the progress. Either way something was missing. Given the ending, perhaps it did accurately chart Armitage's mood: it increasingly seemed to lack a joy or engagement with either the people he met or the journey itself. It began to feel like a chore, something he had committed to and felt obliged to finish. And yet, just as I was ready to give up I turned a page and was met by a blast of sunlight in the shape of a poem, all the more radiant for being placed unexpectedly in the midst of the prose. And perhaps it was as simple as that. Armitage is a poet.

[Jeff · Rating 2 out of 5]

Fascinating premise, but disappointing in execution. Simon's fixation on collecting money in exchange for poetry readings becomes the main story, the walk simply a backdrop. His disastrous last day and ultimate failure were disappointing, but not unexpected. I was looking for triumph over adversity and Instead I got whiny poet complains about everything.

[Joe · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Pennine Way rambles across northern Great Britain like a wizened snake. It's a 256-mile trek that cuts through bogs, moors, towns, farmland, industrial mining areas and hills high enough to aspire to mountain-hood. The weather on The Way is legendarily fickle, with rain or fog lurking behind every sunny afternoon and distant cloud. But in spite of the daunting trials, the Pennine Way is popular with hikers and presents an ideal challenge for anyone seeking a panoramic adventure or notch on their traveling belt.

For accomplished poet Simon Armitage, The Pennine Way is personally symbolic; one end lies near Marsden, the town of his birth. He grew familiar with The Way as a child but never braved the journey. So when he plans to battle the hike's full scope for the first time in middle age, the task appears both intimidating and inevitable. The amiable Armitage is no Captain Ahab, but The Way becomes his white whale on a smaller scale.

And since this journey is so personal, Armitage customizes it to match his artistic soul. First, he charts his journey as a reverse of the standard expedition, starting at the northern end of the path (in Scotland) and ending in his hometown (hence Walking Home.) Second, at every village stop he'll hold a poetry reading. Third, he'll cover all traveling expenses with donations contributed at these readings.

Not all of these flights-of-fancy pan out dynamically. For instance, Armitage's decision to travel as a modern-day troubadour proves dramatically inert when his first stop nets 167 British pounds; his ledger easily stays in the black the entire trip. But on the other hand, his reverse course results in him encountering far more people than he would have on a standard Pennine walk.

And while Armitage's clear style captures the scenery better than the average wordsmith, it's his wit regarding people that really shines. He is equally comfortable taking in the little details of each individual and telling their complicated, distinctive stories as he is stereotyping archetypal hikers for comic effect. As examples of the latter, Armitage makes a tally of every backpacker he crosses paths with; organizing them in groups such as 'The Last Hurrah,' 'Bear Grylls/Ray Mears Box Set' and 'The Exuberance of Youth.'

But Armitage displays his humanity clearest as his fatigue builds towards journey's end. His composure slips more than once; he belittles a charitable store-owner and later banishes some young students from a reading because he misinterprets their interest. Armitage beats himself up over these incidents and in his contrition shows how easily weariness can overcome wisdom.

In the final leg of his journey, Armitage's lethargy and creative urges nearly force him off the path. He toys with the idea of not reaching the finish line, of making a statement about 'personal accomplishment over public affirmation'; a hideous idea that would've confused his family, friends and fans. Armitage's friends guilt him into pressing on, but with indecision (and rain) in the air, the final leg finds Armitage lost and disoriented, all building to a surreal ending. Sometimes, even when you've come so far, the final mile feels like an expedition all it's own.

Edited 9-7-2020

[T P Kennedy · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm not certain what the point of this book was. He's a gifted poet and the few verses included are very welcome. However, the rest of the book is a bad tempered, insular and questioning piece of writing. If he's not sure whether his walk is a good idea, why should we be interested. In an edited version, this might have made a diverting magazine article. For me, there's not enough of interest here to make a book.

[Steven Suttie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I picked this book up because it was about the Pennine Way, a walk that I have long had ambitions of walking, one day, if I ever get enough peace and quiet to stop life for three or four weeks and just get stuck in and do it!

I hadn't realised that the book was written by Simon Armitage, the celebrated northern poet, until I'd started, and I must say that the author's wonderful use of the English language is a wonder to behold as he describes his enormous walk home with such colour, grain and HD descriptions.

This is an amazing book, and I feel that I have (in some weird way) been alongside the author on his remarkable journey south towards Marsden.

I'm definately going to do this walk... one day...

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book won it's 4 stars on the second half of the book. The finish might even have tipped 4 and a half so if you are not enjoying the beginning as much as you expected, keep reading. The journey itself was obviously not as satisfying as the author had hoped. I have never walked the Pennine Way but I have done quite a lot of long distance walking. My memories of my own walks hold a freshness and immediacy that seem lacking from this walk - maybe not lacking, but few and far between. I wonder if age has something to do with it as my walks were many years ago (before children) and although I was in my 30s they were bright adventures through mist, rain, sun, wind, hail and snow. Through light and dark, up hill and down dale, vivid companions and the joy of walking ever onward, until returning to home life. The author's journey seems to have had more impact internally and I get the sense that the continuity of the internal life did not allow for that sense of beginning and end and special time in between. But maybe the same would be true for me now.

[Liz · Rating 5 out of 5]

I laughed out loud reading this book. SA has such a self-effacing honesty which at times make you want to wince as he describes some of the experiences as he challenges himself on this long distance walk. As he says a walk from nowhere in particular to nowhere in particular, but a challenge to himself. In what is often a bleak landscape he manages to make even the mundane parts interesting by being detailed and amusingly observed. From the planning stage,with his Dad`s input about using a bin bag, through the daily commentary on the journey and the ritual counting of his sock of money after poetry readings to the final `ramblings` this book is both a wonderful entertainment and an inspiration.

[Martin Kohout · Rating 5 out of 5]

Like Rachel Hewitt's Map of a Nation, this book probably has more meaning for me than for a general audience, since my friend Bruce and I walked a portion of the Pennine Way in the course of one of our 200-mile backpacking trips across northern England, but I loved it.

Simon Armitage is an English poet who decides to hike the entire length of the Pennine Way, the oldest National Trail in Britain, which runs about 260 miles from Edale, in Derbyshire, to Kirk Yelton, in Scotland - except, perversely, Armitage decides to hike it "backwards," from north to south, rather than in the traditional south-to-north direction, so he will end up at home (he is from Marsden, near Edale). He also decides that he will rely on the kindness of strangers (well, and a few friends) along the way to provide him with food and lodgings, in return for a nightly poetry reading.

As one would hope and expect from a poet, his descriptions of the landscape along the way are quite evocative, and he is actually very funny and self-deprecating a good bit of the time. I think he writes so well that anyone would enjoy this book, whether or not he/she has hiked the Pennine Way. But I particularly thrilled to his descriptions of Garrigill and Hawes, through which Bruce and I passed on our own hike two years ago, and of Cross Fell, atop which we, like Armitage, lost the trail in an impenetrable foggy rain. Beginning to suffer from hypothermia, we stumbled upon Greg's Hut, an extremely stark bothy or shack on the east side of Cross Fell, where we changed out of our soaked clothes and waited till our teeth had stopped chattering before staggering the five miles into Garrigill. I have to say Armitage makes Greg's Hut sound more charming than it was, at least in my experience, even though it may very well have saved my life.

[The Bookish Wombat · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an engaging book about poet Simon Armitage walking the Pennine Way in the "wrong direction" in the summer of 2010. He planned his route in advance by asking for volunteers to put him up and for venues in which to give poetry readings each evening. He took no money with him, but relied on what his audiences contributed after his readings.

I found the book a really easy read and one which had me saying "just one more page" till it was way past my bedtime. The writing style is very accessible and the author demonstrates a great sense of humour. His descriptions of the landscape he is walking through make you feel you're there too. The word sketches he draws of his walking companions and the people who give him a bed for the night are acute, warm and sympathetic.

Walking is an activity that gives those who do it lots of time to think so we hear about incidents from his life, from the history of the area he is exploring and about the people who live there.

Some atmospheric photos of the walk are included and a few poems - could have done with more of the latter I think.

All in all a great journey and a great read.

[Ade Couper · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love this book.

Simon Armitage is one of the greatest poets of the English Language, & has also written some very good prose works too. This is a chronicle of his attempt to walk the Pennine Way from north-South , paying for food, board & lodging by reading his poetry at arranged readings on route.

Armitage's love of language really shines through as you read this : his phrasing is economical but very descriptive, & he makes the walk come alive through his descriptions both of the landscape & his own feelings.

Read this book.

[Diane]

I'll return to this when I'm in a more charitable mood. I've read too many long-distance hiking memoirs -- trails that cover more than 2,000 miles -- so I had trouble being impressed by Armitage when he bragged about walking 260 miles. I found his tone to be a bit pompous and condescending, and I was disappointed because I had been looking forward to reading a travelogue of England. I'll try again later and see if his voice is more tolerable.

[Louisa · Rating 2 out of 5]

Pleasantly bland, rambling anecdotes told with endearing honesty. Armitage takes the reader on a theoretically dull amble down the Pennine Way, recounting tales of the rather forgettable people he meets along the way. Travel writing for those who like their adventures vanilla-flavoured.

[Juliet Wilson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Subtitled 'Travels with a Troubadour on the Pennine Way' this book follows Armitage as he walks the Pennine Way from north to south, giving poetry readings every night in whichever local settlement has agreed to host him. At the end of every reading he hands round a sock which invariably fills up with cash and odd little gifts . Given that on most occasions there's a fair amount of cash in the sock, the readings effectively pay for the walk, specially considering that he has found people to host him and provide his food for free along the journey.

But then Armitage is, in poetic terms at least, famous. (And deservedly so, I might add). I doubt most poets would be able to carry out such an expedition funded by the proceeds of socks handed out at the end of readings.

I often get annoyed with travel books, finding there to be too much cruel humour at the expense of people met along the way. This book though, while very funny (on more than one occasion I regretted my decision to read this book on public transport, given how much I laughed at some points) mostly avoids being at anyone's expense. Though some people seem to be annoying, I never felt that Armitage was specifically looking to do anyone down just to liven up his prose.

And this is fine prose too, with beautiful descriptions of the landscape and the wildlife:

"Down by the waterfall, before Keld village, a male redstart waits on the branch of a rowan tree just long enough for me to see the fire in its belly and the afterburn of its tail".

Armitage claims not to be a birdwatcher because he doesn't make lists, but he certainly knows his birds.

This is a thoroughly enjoyable book, entertaining and really rooted in the landscape, plus with added poems. However it didn't make me want to walk the Pennine Way. All that bad weather and more importantly all those impossibly steep tracks and vertiginous paths!

[Linda Hill · Rating 5 out of 5]

Setting out to walk the Pennine Way ‘the wrong way’ as a modern day troubadour, Simon Armitage occasionally finds he has bitten off more than he can chew!

I loved Walking Home. It completely took me by surprise and enchanted me. I haven’t been walking in the UK for a few years and I immediately want to dig out my walking boots and head to the hills. I don’t know if my enjoyment was enhanced by the fact that I have walked in many of the same places in similar weathers but I felt as if I were travelling along with Simon Armitage as he walked, seeing the same sights and encountering the same challenges, so vivid was the writing.

As one might expect from a renowned poet, the language in Walking Home is fluid, beautiful and gorgeously descriptive. However, I wasn’t expecting it to be hilariously funny and so self-effacing too. I think my husband thought I’d taken leave of my senses as I kept trying to read parts aloud to him but couldn’t finish because I was laughing so much. It’s not that Simon Armitage writes hilarious prose, but conversely that he has a pithy and dry wit that drops in with incisive precision via a couple of choice words after a lengthy prose passage so that the contrast has real impact. Usually this comes in the direct speech that is used so sparingly and so entertainingly. The contents of the sock passed round like a hat after the author’s poetry readings always provided high interest and entertainment too.

Each chapter in Walking Home is a different day on the journey and these make for self-contained narratives that can be enjoyed and dipped in to when a reader might be in that particular environment, so that I think Walking Home would be a wonderful text to read after a day spent walking the same route. That said, I read the book chronologically and kept thinking I’d just read one more day and one more day until I’d travelled the entire length of the walk through highly entertaining writing that I couldn’t put down.

Although this isn’t a narrative in the conventional sense of a novel, there is still a wonderful cast of characters to meet. I especially liked Slug. What Simon Armitage does so well is to leave the reader to fill in his opinions. He makes a factual statement about the people he has encountered which makes it obvious what he thinks of them without him saying so directly. I loved that approach as it made me feel conspiratorial and privileged as if I were privy to Armitages inner most thoughts.

I really enjoyed Walking Home as it is witty, entertaining and so well written. I would love to read more prose from poet Simon Armitage.

[Daven · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well, if there was ever an opportunity to insert a spoiler alert in a brief book review, it would be here. I'll resist - there's no need. But who would've thought there would be a surprising ending to such a humble non-fiction tale? Just goes to prove why I often love non-fiction more than fiction; you can't make this stuff up. In non-fiction, incredulity is more likely well-earned and genuine.

One might think, based on the title or premise of Walking Home, that this book would be stuffy. A well-known British poet sets out to walk the Pennine Way, Great Britain's reasonable equivalent to the Appalachian Trail (although smaller-scale, at only 256 miles in length). Along the way, Armitage plans to hold casual poetry readings in the towns and crossroads, while collecting donations in a hanging sock (rather than the typical tip hat). But the other enduring surprise of the book is how funny and "unstuffy" Armitage's journey is. He writes with great precision and even more remarkable voice and perspective. Take, for example, this momentary encounter with a group of ascending schoolchildren on a field trip, as Armitage himself descends from one of the more-challenging of the Pennine's moors: Towards the bottom where the path spills out like broken biscuits, we pass about thirty kids and a couple of teachers setting off for the peak, and wonder about the risk assessment form associated with this kind of day trip, which presumably has to allow for several types of gravity-induced injury all the way from a sprained ankle to death by plummeting. Peppered with ample moments such as this, Walking Home is characterized by a writer's meticulous observational skills, eye for the nuances of human behavior, an impressive ability to describe the natural world (even when to the untrained eye, the English landscape appears monotonously featureless), and above all, a fully engaging droll sense of humor.

Now, if I could just get past that ending, when, while standing on Mill Hill, Armitage inexplicably . . .

[Harsha Gurnani · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you want to listen to something on your way to work (sure you can read it too), something besides 80s rock, something that brings a spring to your step, then this is for you.

If you are the sort of person who enjoys long distance walks, (in the poet's words) "a pointless exercise, leading from nowhere in particular to nowhere in particular, via no particular route and for no particular reason" and often not for (conventionally) "pleasant weather", then this book is for you.

If you want to imagine yourself plodding across seemingly endless moors and meadows, treading noisily through bogs, or straggling up hills, exchanging witty banter about when is a beck a river, all the while you may be "navigating delicately" through The London Pavement Network, this book is for you.

And if you want to use that imagination to replace the smell of the London Tube, a curious mix of people, sweat and Pret sandwiches, with that of freshly (perennially) wet grass and mist and heavy country air; and if you want to replace the sounds of whooshing trains or whooshing cars with birds over desolate moors and the unbroken rush of the wind or the sound of rain beating against your waterproof (I hope) on am otherwise empty land - then this book is for you.

If you don't mind walking about with a smile on your face, and you don't mind the occasional grin or chortle or even the loud laugh invoking curious glances by passers-by, and especially if you enjoy the Englishman's wry sense of humour, then this book is for you.

And finally, if you want to hear of all the small kindnesses that people, very ordinary people, bestow upon each other, of acts of pure generosity towards strangers, of an existence that is not a competition on a daily basis, and if such anecdotes even break through your impassable "dark curtain" of cynicism and make you feel warm, less alone on some particular day - then this book is definitely for you.

[J. · Rating 3 out of 5]

I absolutely love the premise of this book, in summary; walk a route whilst paying your way through reading poetry. Art paving the way for inspiration and begetting more art. The poet Simon Armitage sets out to take on the Pennine way a 250 odd mile route largely over hills, moorlands and bogs starting at Kinder Scout Bleaklow and Black hill stretching past Hadrian’s Wall, traversing the Cheviot ridge before finishing in Scotland at Kirk Yetholm on the border. He elects to go in the opposite direction that is usually taken, going from North to South against the weather towards his home of Marsden where he was born in 1963. His mission statement is “to write a book about the North, one that could observe and describe the land and its people, and one that could encompass elements of memoir as well as saying something about my life as a poet.” Perhaps that sounds a bit more grand than what was achieved, which was less anthropological and more a book filled with daily observances and a plod through mist, moorland and fog to hostels, b&b’s and spare rooms.

He goes through Wordsworth country and sleeps in Ted Hughes’s childhood home. He finances the journey by giving organised poetry readings at stops along the way, producing a sock for the audience to throw money in and as it transpires other odds and ends. Armitage is likeable and self-depreciating. He’s not particularly fit and has a bad back.

He sulks, gives awkward readings, drinks beer and meets up with his comic university pal Slug. Nothing is on the line, no real tension brews but that’s okay. He gets to be in a warm bed every night, volunteers cart his tombstone suitcase around, park rangers, friends, well-wishers, strangers and poets join him on the walk. I must confess that I don’t like his poetry but as I’ve said before I love the premise of this book and I think it worked well. Poetry does pay.

[Evan Hays · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have come to realize that my favorite books involve people walking.

There is something profound about physical movement and a story. They work together hand in hand. This works for all sorts of books. My favorite fantasies, like Lord of the Rings or Narnia, involve characters on literal journeys. Not in the same league, but I loved the Redwall books growing up, and characters always have a quest in those books. This goes back, of course, as Armitage is so right to point out, to Homer and the Odyssey and the classic stories of our own language like Sir Gawain (whose translation by Armitage I loved so much). This also applies to non-fiction books, both serious and humorous. MacFarlane's The Old Ways, one of my all-time favorite books, is all about walking journeys of discovery. Bryson's A Walk in the Woods, one of my favorite humorous books, is also a story of a walking journey.

This book belongs right in there will all of those. It is different than each of those, and is hard to characterize. It doesn't have the natural/scientific awareness of Deakin or MacFarlane. It doesn't have the research or humor of Bryson. And it's of course not a fantasy. But this book has its own way. He tells his story in a unique and honest fashion that compels you to keep reading, helps you appreciate the strange fact that the Pennine way allows you to sleep in a pub every night while also causing you to question whether you will survive the 15 miles in between, and also allows you get to know Armitage along the way. Someday, I will walk the Pennine Way, like Armitage, although I don't know if I will go North to South, like he does, which goes against the normal grain.

If books about movement, discovery, and story-telling appeal to you (and they should because they are essentially stories of our existence), add this to your list.

[Emily Kestrel · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've read quite a bit about famous hikes such as the Pacific Crest Trail and the Appalachian Trail, and now I have a new jaunt to add to my imaginary bucket list: the 260 mile Pennine Way that runs through the north of England to the Scottish border. Why is this an imaginary bucket list for me? Well, the author--poet Simon Armitage--answers that question more than adequately in his book about traveling it: rain, fog, wind, more rain, getting lost, still more rain.... I'm definitely a fair weather hiker (or rambler, as it's called in this book).

While I enjoy this subgenre of travel writing, the hiking memoir comes with its own potential pitfalls, namely, the grueling act of putting one foot in front of the other for day after day, often though rough terrain and bad weather, can sometimes seem as much of "trudge" to read as it is to experience. Only occasionally does this happen here; for the most part, the writing is lively and the scenery--so to speak--is interesting.

Occasionally, the descriptions were so striking and beautiful I wanted to copy them down, such as this description of a deer heading away from him: "Just as it crossed the horizon the great candelabra of its antlers became silhouetted against the torch of the sun, still low in the sky, and appeared to catch fire. Then off it went into the woods, igniting each copse and thicket with its flaming horns, spreading the morning as it went."

Recommended for vicarious ramblers and those who enjoy their non fiction with a poetic flair.

[Paula Connelly · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have always been attracted to the idea of walking the Pennine Way but have never seriously considered doing it myself. So for this reason, and the fact that the trail incorporates some of my very favourite places, this book appealed to me greatly.

Overall I enjoyed the book and thought it was a light and easy read, taking me just a few hours to complete. In many ways the writing seemed to mirror the walk itself in that there were high points and low, passages I found to be a bit of a tedious slog and some I found uplifting and inspiring. Along the way there was the occasional chuckle (not quite a full laugh!) and on one occasion a random act of kindness which actually brought a hint of a tear to my eye.

One thing that put me off slightly was the author's regular accounting of how much cash he'd collected (for himself) along the way, leading me to question his motive for undertaking the walk in the first place. Although I admit I'd never heard of him prior to this book, it seemed at times to have been more of a "tour" (as in one undertaken by a performance artist) than a serious attempt at one of our national trails. And in some ways the conclusion of the book confirms this idea.

The book didn't inspire me to rush out and attempt the Pennine Way myself, but it did leave me wanting to go back and visit some of my favourite places, like Hawes, Swaledale and Hadrian's Wall.

[Steve · Rating 4 out of 5]

Armitage has long been a favorite poet of mine, since years ago picking his joint travelogue of a trip to Iceland with Glynn Maxwell. I reread (or listen to) his Sir Gawain and The Green Knight each New Year's Day, and its the earthiness of his own poems as much as that translation I enjoy — his ruminations and flights of imaginations always seem grounded not in the sense of held down but rather that they seem rooted somewhere, coming from somewhere. And that earthiness is apparent in Walking Home, as he writes honestly and engagingly about both the pleasures and perils (and varied aches) of walking the Pennine Way. It's almost conversational and as convivial to the point I wished I'd been one of the friends and strangers who joined him for a walk along the way, though I do wish there'd been more context at times: whether it was a matter of taking some things for granted with the initial English audience or some other reason, I could have done with more historical exploration into the places he walked through, the creation of the Way itself, and more intellectual probing of the landscape (which, fair play, is just my bent toward environmental history over travel writing, in general). And I won't spoil it, but there's a moment involving his mobile phone toward the end that has absolutely haunted me since I put the book down.

[Mike Eccles · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was an unexpected Christmas present from my brother Simon who took a risk. I attempted to walk the Pennine Way as a teenager (that's a long time ago now), but damage to feet caused me to have to give up half way. So this was a possible return to memories from long ago.

The truth is that I can remember very little of the walk and Simon Armitage walked in the unconventional North to South direction, so there is little to align my youthful experiences with his recent ones!

Nevertheless this is a very engaging read. I am relieved that there is little poetry in the book (I'm a philistine with regards to poetry): his prose is delightful and his story one of adventure, emotion and insight into people and the environment around him. His overcoming of the challenges of walking the spine of Britain is something that I felt to be part of - a good measure of the success of his writing from my perspective.

Definitely a good read!

[Emmkay · Rating 3 out of 5]

Armitage, an esteemed English poet, decides to walk the Pennine Way, in what is apparently a contrary direction, from the northernmost point in Scotland to its distal end in the town of his birth. Along the way, he stays with various people who have kindly offered to host him on his well-advertised way, and he does poetry readings that have been scheduled in towns en route, at which he passes the hat (actually a woolly sock). It’s an enjoyable enough read, though a repetitive and slightly sloggy one (perhaps like the walk itself) as he totes up the contents of the sock, observes the landscape, squelches and drips and doubts, and briefly describes hosts and fellow walkers (mostly friends and acquaintances who decide to join him for a stretch). I rather liked the contemplative ending.

[Jon · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've never quite managed to get into Armitage's poetry, but I enjoyed this. Possibly because it was about places I know, but mostly because the Bard of Marsden is an engaging companion on the walk, and has a very nice line in description, and a wry humour I found very much to my taste.