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The Parallel Path: Love, Grit and Walking the North
'Forget The Salt Path - this writer's introspective journey provides genuine food for thought... Chastened but buoyant, she's stimulating to be with, her book the best kind of walking companion'
Guardian
'Touching, thoughtful and frank - Jenn Ashworth is a wonderful writer'
David Nicholls, author of You Are Here
'I've long loved Ashworth's uncanny fiction, and this memoir is filled with her characteristic understanding of the connections between the physical world and our interior lives. Wonderful for taking on a walk yourself.'
Financial Times
'Like going on a long walk with an old I loved it'
Mark Haddon, author of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
Burnt out and longing for an escape, Jenn Ashworth emerged from lockdown with a compulsive need to walk - and to walk away. Armed with little more than the knowledge imparted by a two-day orienteering course and a set of maps, she embarked on the most epic of English Wainwright's Coast to Coast.
Guided not just by Wainwright's writing but also by daily letters from her friend Clive - facing an epic journey of his own - Jenn's pilgrimage soon becomes more than just a chance to reconnect and excavate, to re-engage with the act of caring for others and for oneself.
But the walk's tricky terrain is not the only thing standing in Jenn's way. As days go by, her balance begins to fail her and the act of putting one foot in front the other becomes a new exercise in caution. When a vicious heatwave forces her to pause her expedition and gives her an opportunity to investigate the new limitations of her body, Jenn is confronted with a life-altering diagnosis - and a new path of self-discovery.
'With honesty, humour and determination, Ashworth's journey takes the reader from coast to coast in search of freedom'
Jessica Andrews, author of Milk Teeth
'Stunning - and stunningly intelligent . . . I was very moved and with her every step of the way'
Julie Myerson, author of Nonfiction
'Full of intelligence and wisdom, searing self-awareness and humour... Jenn Ashworth is an incredibly talented writer'
Lily Dunn, author of Sins of My Father
'Beautifully realised and powerful'
Catherine Taylor, author of The Stirrings
Guardian
'Touching, thoughtful and frank - Jenn Ashworth is a wonderful writer'
David Nicholls, author of You Are Here
'I've long loved Ashworth's uncanny fiction, and this memoir is filled with her characteristic understanding of the connections between the physical world and our interior lives. Wonderful for taking on a walk yourself.'
Financial Times
'Like going on a long walk with an old I loved it'
Mark Haddon, author of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
Burnt out and longing for an escape, Jenn Ashworth emerged from lockdown with a compulsive need to walk - and to walk away. Armed with little more than the knowledge imparted by a two-day orienteering course and a set of maps, she embarked on the most epic of English Wainwright's Coast to Coast.
Guided not just by Wainwright's writing but also by daily letters from her friend Clive - facing an epic journey of his own - Jenn's pilgrimage soon becomes more than just a chance to reconnect and excavate, to re-engage with the act of caring for others and for oneself.
But the walk's tricky terrain is not the only thing standing in Jenn's way. As days go by, her balance begins to fail her and the act of putting one foot in front the other becomes a new exercise in caution. When a vicious heatwave forces her to pause her expedition and gives her an opportunity to investigate the new limitations of her body, Jenn is confronted with a life-altering diagnosis - and a new path of self-discovery.
'With honesty, humour and determination, Ashworth's journey takes the reader from coast to coast in search of freedom'
Jessica Andrews, author of Milk Teeth
'Stunning - and stunningly intelligent . . . I was very moved and with her every step of the way'
Julie Myerson, author of Nonfiction
'Full of intelligence and wisdom, searing self-awareness and humour... Jenn Ashworth is an incredibly talented writer'
Lily Dunn, author of Sins of My Father
'Beautifully realised and powerful'
Catherine Taylor, author of The Stirrings
- GenresNonfictionMemoir
289 pages, Kindle Edition
Published July 17, 2025
6 people are currently reading
170 people want to read
About the author
Jenn Ashworth
37 books172 followersJenn Ashworth is an English writer. She was born in 1982 in Preston, Lancashire. She has graduated from Cambridge University and the Manchester Centre for New Writing. In March 2011 she was featured as one of the BBC Culture Show's Best 12 New Novelists. She previously worked as a librarian in a men's prison.
She founded the Preston Writers Network, later renamed as the Central Lancs Writing Hub, and worked as its coordinator until it closed in January 2010. She has also taught creative writing at the Centre for New Writing at the University of Manchester, the University of Central Lancashire and the University of Lancaster.
Her first novel, A Kind of Intimacy, won a Betty Trask Award in 2010. An extract from an earlier novel, lost as a result of a computer theft in 2004, was the winner of the 2003 Quiller-Couch Prize for Creative Writing at Cambridge University.
She founded the Preston Writers Network, later renamed as the Central Lancs Writing Hub, and worked as its coordinator until it closed in January 2010. She has also taught creative writing at the Centre for New Writing at the University of Manchester, the University of Central Lancashire and the University of Lancaster.
Her first novel, A Kind of Intimacy, won a Betty Trask Award in 2010. An extract from an earlier novel, lost as a result of a computer theft in 2004, was the winner of the 2003 Quiller-Couch Prize for Creative Writing at Cambridge University.
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Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews
August 4, 2025
I do love books about journeys, particularly those taken on foot. There’s something about the pace and rhythm of a long walk that lends itself to storytelling, reflection and thought. Jenn Ashworth’s The Parallel Path is an excellent example of the genre, although the book’s subtitle (Love, Grit and Walking the North) did initially give me some cause for concern in case I was letting myself in for something syrupy and trite. I need not have worried as the book actually turned out to be considerably more complex and thought-provoking than that suggested. Jenn Ashworth recounts several walks here, but the main focus of the book is a long trek along one of the most well-known and popular long distance trails in the UK, Wainwright’s Coast to Coast walk, from St Bee’s Head on the Cumbrian coast to Robin Hood’s Bay in North Yorkshire. Interwoven with her walking are several long-running meditations - on health, sickness and mortality (her artist friend and erstwhile walking companion Clive is dying and sends her updates from his experiences with hospitals and family in the form of illustrated letters sent to each of her overnight accommodation stops along the way), the many meanings of care and love, her personal history and that of walking women more generally. She also has an original and winning turn of phrase: in describing a pair of grouse suddenly exploding from the heather on the Yorkshire Moors, for instance: ‘the sudden beating of the wings sounded like dropped library books’. It really is a wonderful book, rich and complex, questioning and reassuring in equal measure.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 1, 2025
Non-fiction and predominantly about walking, it is not something I would usually read however giving how much I have loved the fictional works of Jenn Ashworth I thought I would give it a go.
Turns out I enjoyed it well more than I thought I would and if I was the type of person to cry at a book, then I’d be in tears. Deeply emotional, topics of death, illness, responsibility and the desire to escape. It wasn’t at all bleak though in fact some bits were delightful the writing is great and full of good quotes and phrases that I will remember - Shirley valentines in a north face.
Its made me want to go on a big walk.
Turns out I enjoyed it well more than I thought I would and if I was the type of person to cry at a book, then I’d be in tears. Deeply emotional, topics of death, illness, responsibility and the desire to escape. It wasn’t at all bleak though in fact some bits were delightful the writing is great and full of good quotes and phrases that I will remember - Shirley valentines in a north face.
Its made me want to go on a big walk.
November 12, 2025
This was a bookclub choice a while back and I never got round to reading it, even though Jenn Ashworth came to talk to us. But, because of that, I wanted to read it and I’m glad I did. A friend lent me her copy, which I started, but I finished it as an audiobook which I could listen to while doing other things. Not walking across the country, but you get the drift. Jenn did walk across the country. Lockdown made her re-evaluate her life and how, as a gritty northern woman she was expected to care for everyone - family, children her students.
The walk - Wainwright’s Coast-to-Coast - would be a chance to experience some peace through solitude. Being a sensible person, she stayed in B&Bs every night and would save the letters that her friend Clive wrote to her, to read over breakfast each day. Clive is terminally ill and his letters reflect his thoughts on life and death. They are not just writing on notepaper, but collages, photographs, paintings etc written on various surfaces such as Charles Atlas body-building course leaflets.
The book, since being a memoir, talks about Jenn’s experience of love, grief, caring and dealing with the little things in life as well as the big ones. Towards the end of the walk, she finds herself falling a few times and eventually discovers it’s not just a rolled ankle or unstable surface, but because of a brain tumour. This is discussed in a no nonsense way, which is how I like to think I’d deal with such a diagnosis. Spoiler: she survives and goes on to describe other walks like the Preston Guild Wheel. Because I live in Preston, where she was born, these local insights were my favourite parts.
If you ever get the chance to hear her talking about the book (or any of her fiction), please do go. If you don’t go, read this and treat yourself to a well-written exploration of not only the North Yorks Moors, but also what makes us* how we are.
*gritty northern women in particular
The walk - Wainwright’s Coast-to-Coast - would be a chance to experience some peace through solitude. Being a sensible person, she stayed in B&Bs every night and would save the letters that her friend Clive wrote to her, to read over breakfast each day. Clive is terminally ill and his letters reflect his thoughts on life and death. They are not just writing on notepaper, but collages, photographs, paintings etc written on various surfaces such as Charles Atlas body-building course leaflets.
The book, since being a memoir, talks about Jenn’s experience of love, grief, caring and dealing with the little things in life as well as the big ones. Towards the end of the walk, she finds herself falling a few times and eventually discovers it’s not just a rolled ankle or unstable surface, but because of a brain tumour. This is discussed in a no nonsense way, which is how I like to think I’d deal with such a diagnosis. Spoiler: she survives and goes on to describe other walks like the Preston Guild Wheel. Because I live in Preston, where she was born, these local insights were my favourite parts.
If you ever get the chance to hear her talking about the book (or any of her fiction), please do go. If you don’t go, read this and treat yourself to a well-written exploration of not only the North Yorks Moors, but also what makes us* how we are.
*gritty northern women in particular
July 12, 2025
A somewhat incongruous but well-written book about the author walking the Coast to Coast path. I read the book partly because I love a hiking memoir and partly because I have been contemplating trying the Coast to Coast walk myself one day.
For clarity, the Coast to Coast is a pretty challenging two-week hike but it's not comparable to something like the Pacific Crest trail or the GR20.
In the end, the book was only tangentially about the walking. And despite the book being sold as something akin to a memoir, we don't get deep insight into the author either. She reveals her desire for wishing to be alone, even leaving her family behind, but isn't prepared to open up too much. Instead she deflects and centres the book around her terminally ill friend Clive. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Was this exploitative or did Clive wish to be immortalised in such a way? It was sensitively done but nevertheless felt slightly off.
There could have been a lot of scope for the author's personal history because despite her relative youth she certainly has had an interesting life. From what I can ascertain, she grew up in Preston in a Mormon family (which must have been pretty unusual there), had a difficult childhood, completely refused to go to school and only reentered formal education when she started her studies at Cambridge. She had a terrible experience when her epidural wore off during a Caesarean section and suffered mental health issues as a result. The father of her first child died of cancer, and Ashworth herself suffered serious illness around the time of this book, which 'The Parallel Path' covers to an extent. Perhaps the author is saving it all for a full memoir (which I'd definitely read) or she is fundamentally uncomfortable with such public intimacy. Unfortunately, the greatest books of fiction and autobiography require the author to make themselves vulnerable.
The writing itself is great but I wished for greater descriptions of and affinity with nature and the walk itself, though ironically the book actually gave me some useful practical tips.
Having read the book, I've gone off the idea of walking the Coast to Coast path. I thought 'The Parallel Path' would describe natural beauty but it just sounds miserable.
'The Parallel Path' was one of those books that whilst imperfect, was intriguing and made you want to read more by the author.
For clarity, the Coast to Coast is a pretty challenging two-week hike but it's not comparable to something like the Pacific Crest trail or the GR20.
In the end, the book was only tangentially about the walking. And despite the book being sold as something akin to a memoir, we don't get deep insight into the author either. She reveals her desire for wishing to be alone, even leaving her family behind, but isn't prepared to open up too much. Instead she deflects and centres the book around her terminally ill friend Clive. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Was this exploitative or did Clive wish to be immortalised in such a way? It was sensitively done but nevertheless felt slightly off.
There could have been a lot of scope for the author's personal history because despite her relative youth she certainly has had an interesting life. From what I can ascertain, she grew up in Preston in a Mormon family (which must have been pretty unusual there), had a difficult childhood, completely refused to go to school and only reentered formal education when she started her studies at Cambridge. She had a terrible experience when her epidural wore off during a Caesarean section and suffered mental health issues as a result. The father of her first child died of cancer, and Ashworth herself suffered serious illness around the time of this book, which 'The Parallel Path' covers to an extent. Perhaps the author is saving it all for a full memoir (which I'd definitely read) or she is fundamentally uncomfortable with such public intimacy. Unfortunately, the greatest books of fiction and autobiography require the author to make themselves vulnerable.
The writing itself is great but I wished for greater descriptions of and affinity with nature and the walk itself, though ironically the book actually gave me some useful practical tips.
Having read the book, I've gone off the idea of walking the Coast to Coast path. I thought 'The Parallel Path' would describe natural beauty but it just sounds miserable.
'The Parallel Path' was one of those books that whilst imperfect, was intriguing and made you want to read more by the author.
October 19, 2025
By her own admission, author and Academic, Jenn Ashworth, does not have a mind designed to manage a long-distance walk like the Coast to Coast: she finds left and right a challenge, has to stop and set the SatNav when driving to her mother's house and has 'A talent for disorientation'.
'For someone like me, this walk was both hubristic and irresponsible. But I would not listen to my own voices of reason. I wanted to do it and so very badly wanted to find my way without help'.
She is a 'tough, armoured little being', full of stubbornness and independence, and having completed a two-day mountain navigation course, off she goes, prompted by the terminal diagnosis of her friend Clive, and her own post-lockdown burnout after caring too much. The Parallel Path is her story of this epic walk.
It starts out as a book about walking in the north of England: about the landscape, northerners, northernness. It is simultaneously a description of Jenn walking the Coast to Coast walk route as originated by Wainwright, which becomes interspersed with memories of her life thus far, and interwoven with a mix of philosophy, ideas, thoughts, musings and contemplations.
It's a book about exploration, on many levels: geographical, personal, emotional, physical, artistic, philosophical, religious. It is introspective, deep-thinking, soul-searching, and leads to self-discovery. It is completely frank and honest, and has no pretensions whatsoever.
Sometimes Jenn walks consciously and mindfully with an appreciation of nature, and landscape; of social history impacting the land. Sometimes she lets go, and walks 'mindlessly', just wanders or plods on, merely enjoying the act of walking .
As Jenn’s journey unfolds, some key points and themes emerge.
Firstly, there is her need to escape: from the additional burdens and roles placed on people, especially women, during lockdown; from the feeling of enclosure and restriction it brought; from the pleasures and burdens of domesticity and its 'caring invisibility';
from the sense of everyone wanting something from her, her time and attention, of giving constantly at her own mental and spiritual expense; all of which which brought nothing but a huge sense of burn-out.
She also acknowledges that 'part of the motivation for doing the walk was about finding a way to excel at being a walker even though this relentless drive for improvement was one of the things that had left me careworn in the first place'
As well as escape, there's a theme of mourning, loss, and terminal illness with which she needs to reconcile: the death of her daughter's father, Ben Ashworth; her friend Clive's terminal diagnosis. His regular letters as she walks include bulletins about his cancer and treatment journey, and the walks he does locally. Jenn views this as Clive 'walking a strange parallel path' with her.
But perhaps the biggest theme of this book is that of care and caring: being cared for, and being the carer.
Jenn plans the walk as an antidote to a lockdown induced restlessness. She is in need of, and wants something, but doesn't know what it is on a cerebral level, even when her body's intelligence seems to.
Eventually, after several days of walking she arrives exhausted at a B&B in Kirkby Stephen and recognises that she has been masking her own secret desire for care and comfort.
As she later acknowledges,
'My walk, which I'd designed as a break from the labour of care, turned out to be a path that led me deeper into understanding my own need for it'.
This is not a comfortable realisation for her. Giving care is one thing, but accepting it is a step too far.
The theme of care continues through the experiences of her friend Clive as he undergoes treatment for cancer; and, ultimately, in the most unexpected development of all, through Jenn’s own experience of care, when she receives her own life-changing diagnosis after some serious symptoms reveal themselves toward the end of her walk.
She undergoes major surgery and recovers slowly at home. Suddenly she discovers that receiving care is in fact pleasurable, and 'delicious'.
She sees that her need for care, and requesting treats, makes her friends happy; that her need for care hurts nobody, even though it was something that once made her truly uncomfortable. That the only thing injured by her wanting anything was the remnants of old ideas about toughness, and independence. Our girl has come a long way indeed, on so many levels, and the revelation that Clive's daily letters to her on her walk were him trying to care for her - something she never realised until afterwards, when he told her - is both poignant and funny.
Having read and enjoyed several of Jenn’s novels, and worked with her on a couple of occasions, I thoroughly enjoyed this book.
Dense with ideas, philosophies and concepts, as well as the walking element, it is a fascinating, thought-provoking, emotional, introspective and intimate read.
In some ways, it is almost reminiscent of The Salt Path, but with far more integrity and insight, and offers so much more to think about. Highly recommended and definitely one of my best reads of 2025.
'For someone like me, this walk was both hubristic and irresponsible. But I would not listen to my own voices of reason. I wanted to do it and so very badly wanted to find my way without help'.
She is a 'tough, armoured little being', full of stubbornness and independence, and having completed a two-day mountain navigation course, off she goes, prompted by the terminal diagnosis of her friend Clive, and her own post-lockdown burnout after caring too much. The Parallel Path is her story of this epic walk.
It starts out as a book about walking in the north of England: about the landscape, northerners, northernness. It is simultaneously a description of Jenn walking the Coast to Coast walk route as originated by Wainwright, which becomes interspersed with memories of her life thus far, and interwoven with a mix of philosophy, ideas, thoughts, musings and contemplations.
It's a book about exploration, on many levels: geographical, personal, emotional, physical, artistic, philosophical, religious. It is introspective, deep-thinking, soul-searching, and leads to self-discovery. It is completely frank and honest, and has no pretensions whatsoever.
Sometimes Jenn walks consciously and mindfully with an appreciation of nature, and landscape; of social history impacting the land. Sometimes she lets go, and walks 'mindlessly', just wanders or plods on, merely enjoying the act of walking .
As Jenn’s journey unfolds, some key points and themes emerge.
Firstly, there is her need to escape: from the additional burdens and roles placed on people, especially women, during lockdown; from the feeling of enclosure and restriction it brought; from the pleasures and burdens of domesticity and its 'caring invisibility';
from the sense of everyone wanting something from her, her time and attention, of giving constantly at her own mental and spiritual expense; all of which which brought nothing but a huge sense of burn-out.
She also acknowledges that 'part of the motivation for doing the walk was about finding a way to excel at being a walker even though this relentless drive for improvement was one of the things that had left me careworn in the first place'
As well as escape, there's a theme of mourning, loss, and terminal illness with which she needs to reconcile: the death of her daughter's father, Ben Ashworth; her friend Clive's terminal diagnosis. His regular letters as she walks include bulletins about his cancer and treatment journey, and the walks he does locally. Jenn views this as Clive 'walking a strange parallel path' with her.
But perhaps the biggest theme of this book is that of care and caring: being cared for, and being the carer.
Jenn plans the walk as an antidote to a lockdown induced restlessness. She is in need of, and wants something, but doesn't know what it is on a cerebral level, even when her body's intelligence seems to.
Eventually, after several days of walking she arrives exhausted at a B&B in Kirkby Stephen and recognises that she has been masking her own secret desire for care and comfort.
As she later acknowledges,
'My walk, which I'd designed as a break from the labour of care, turned out to be a path that led me deeper into understanding my own need for it'.
This is not a comfortable realisation for her. Giving care is one thing, but accepting it is a step too far.
The theme of care continues through the experiences of her friend Clive as he undergoes treatment for cancer; and, ultimately, in the most unexpected development of all, through Jenn’s own experience of care, when she receives her own life-changing diagnosis after some serious symptoms reveal themselves toward the end of her walk.
She undergoes major surgery and recovers slowly at home. Suddenly she discovers that receiving care is in fact pleasurable, and 'delicious'.
She sees that her need for care, and requesting treats, makes her friends happy; that her need for care hurts nobody, even though it was something that once made her truly uncomfortable. That the only thing injured by her wanting anything was the remnants of old ideas about toughness, and independence. Our girl has come a long way indeed, on so many levels, and the revelation that Clive's daily letters to her on her walk were him trying to care for her - something she never realised until afterwards, when he told her - is both poignant and funny.
Having read and enjoyed several of Jenn’s novels, and worked with her on a couple of occasions, I thoroughly enjoyed this book.
Dense with ideas, philosophies and concepts, as well as the walking element, it is a fascinating, thought-provoking, emotional, introspective and intimate read.
In some ways, it is almost reminiscent of The Salt Path, but with far more integrity and insight, and offers so much more to think about. Highly recommended and definitely one of my best reads of 2025.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
December 4, 2025
This was such a fascinating and poignant insight into Jenn’s walk along Wainwright’s coast to coast path which she undertook in the summer of 2022.
It’s not just about a walk which stretches for 190 miles though, it’s a rumination of life as Jenn knows it. In a way, it’s Jenn trying to find herself.
Jenn talks about her decision to walk this path, after her experiences of the lockdowns we went through, and her preparation to do it alone which included a two-day mountain navigation course.
She lets us know about her elderly neighbour, Clive, who has recently had a cancer diagnosis, and his plan to send her a letter on each day of her journey - to arrive at the B&B she has booked for that evening.
Once Jenn has introduced herself, each chapter is a day’s walk which we can also see on the map which is included in the book. My favourite parts of the book were Jenn’s descriptions of her walk, the ease or difficulty of it, and what she saw and heard. She also includes some of the history behind the places or features she passes which were really interesting to read about.
I also enjoyed seeing the quotes Jenn included, from Wainwright himself, about the terrain of the walk and what his thoughts about it were.
Jenn was born in my home town of Preston, so I particularly loved reading about her references to her time there: especially finding out that we both walked in the Preston Guild procession of 1992.
Jenn’s thoughts do go everywhere during this book as she recounts events from her life, including her childhood. However, she also writes about death, and some friends and family members who were taken from this world far too early, which was very sad and made this a much more emotional read than I was expecting.
I was very lucky to meet Jenn last month at the Borderlines book festival in Carlisle, and listen to her talk about the book and read extracts from it. It’s obvious that Jenn has poured her heart and soul into this book, and I feel privileged to have read it.
It’s not just about a walk which stretches for 190 miles though, it’s a rumination of life as Jenn knows it. In a way, it’s Jenn trying to find herself.
Jenn talks about her decision to walk this path, after her experiences of the lockdowns we went through, and her preparation to do it alone which included a two-day mountain navigation course.
She lets us know about her elderly neighbour, Clive, who has recently had a cancer diagnosis, and his plan to send her a letter on each day of her journey - to arrive at the B&B she has booked for that evening.
Once Jenn has introduced herself, each chapter is a day’s walk which we can also see on the map which is included in the book. My favourite parts of the book were Jenn’s descriptions of her walk, the ease or difficulty of it, and what she saw and heard. She also includes some of the history behind the places or features she passes which were really interesting to read about.
I also enjoyed seeing the quotes Jenn included, from Wainwright himself, about the terrain of the walk and what his thoughts about it were.
Jenn was born in my home town of Preston, so I particularly loved reading about her references to her time there: especially finding out that we both walked in the Preston Guild procession of 1992.
Jenn’s thoughts do go everywhere during this book as she recounts events from her life, including her childhood. However, she also writes about death, and some friends and family members who were taken from this world far too early, which was very sad and made this a much more emotional read than I was expecting.
I was very lucky to meet Jenn last month at the Borderlines book festival in Carlisle, and listen to her talk about the book and read extracts from it. It’s obvious that Jenn has poured her heart and soul into this book, and I feel privileged to have read it.
November 23, 2025
I nearly didn't read this. I'd just finished another 'exercise as the solution to mental health' book that had sort of annoyed me and so nearly took this back to the library. But I read English at Lancaster, and since the author is a Professor of Writing there, I thought I should give it a go. I am very glad I did. This book makes you realise what good travel writing can be. Of course the description of the journey is great which just the write amount of detail of landscape and weather and accommodation and meetings to give a real sense of what it looked and felt like. But Ashworth weaves into this so much more. The relationship with a friend who sends her letters to collect along the way and her own life story illuminate and inform the journey. It's all done with delicacy, sensitivity and a deft touch. A book to recommend to friends.
January 31, 2026
"Walking's paradoxes multiplied as I paid attention to them: each step emptied the moment ready to provide a welcome for the new. Every step was also a goodbye. As for our steps, so for our days. There's no going home, not really – and of course we don't ever leave." (p. 90)
Beautiful. Powerful. Poignant.
A walk through both the geographic and historical landscape of Northern England, combined with some truly insightful reflections on how small acts of care constitute an art form in their own right, makes this one of the most personally-affecting forms of self-writing I have read in a very long time.
Jenn has produced a work of unparalleled creative non-fiction, simultaneously rigorous in its praxis as it is provocative in its imagining.
An utter masterclass in writing memoir.
Beautiful. Powerful. Poignant.
A walk through both the geographic and historical landscape of Northern England, combined with some truly insightful reflections on how small acts of care constitute an art form in their own right, makes this one of the most personally-affecting forms of self-writing I have read in a very long time.
Jenn has produced a work of unparalleled creative non-fiction, simultaneously rigorous in its praxis as it is provocative in its imagining.
An utter masterclass in writing memoir.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 11, 2025
Excellent - really well structured - searingly honest - at times the author seems too harsh on herself.
Themes of family - death - impact of Covid - friendship are weaved seamlessly throughout the Coast to Coast walk.
Moments of humour sit alongside descriptions of the pain and suffering of such a major physical adventure.
A memoir which will live long in the mind after you have finished.
Would like to explore Jenn Ashworth's novels ...clearly she is a talented writer.
Themes of family - death - impact of Covid - friendship are weaved seamlessly throughout the Coast to Coast walk.
Moments of humour sit alongside descriptions of the pain and suffering of such a major physical adventure.
A memoir which will live long in the mind after you have finished.
Would like to explore Jenn Ashworth's novels ...clearly she is a talented writer.
April 22, 2025
The Parallel Path is quietly, and seemingly effortlessly, a masterpiece. Ashworth's deft hand not only leads the reader along the coast to coast walk but also through a personal history and a study of aloneness and determination that makes her every step compelling. It sets a new standard for the walking memoir.
October 10, 2025
An interesting and thought provoking read with a surprising outcome. A 40 year old woman walks the coast to coast route from St Bees to Robin Hoods Bay, thinking, reminiscing and philosophising as she goes.
August 13, 2025
Rambling thoughts with no real point
November 5, 2025
A combination of meeting Jenn in person in York, and being influenced to buy this book, and that fact it was so beautifully written made me enjoy it immensely
Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews