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The Last Wilderness, A Journey into Silence
Neil Ansell's The Last Wilderness is a mesmerising book on nature and solitude by a writer who has spent his lifetime taking solitary ventures into the wild. For any readers of the author's previous book, Deep Country, Robert Macfarlane's The Old Ways or William Atkins' The Moor.
The experience of being in nature alone is here set within the context of a series of walks that Neil Ansell takes into the most remote parts of Britain, the rough bounds in the Scottish Highlands. He illustrates the impact of being alone as part of nature, rather than outside it.
As a counterpoint, Neil Ansell also writes of the changes in the landscape, and how his hearing loss affects his relationship with nature as the calls of the birds he knows so well become silent to him.
The experience of being in nature alone is here set within the context of a series of walks that Neil Ansell takes into the most remote parts of Britain, the rough bounds in the Scottish Highlands. He illustrates the impact of being alone as part of nature, rather than outside it.
As a counterpoint, Neil Ansell also writes of the changes in the landscape, and how his hearing loss affects his relationship with nature as the calls of the birds he knows so well become silent to him.
320 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2018
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1439 people want to read
About the author
Neil Ansell
6 books46 followersNeil Ansell is an award-winning freelance journalist and writer. He spent seven years with the BBC as a community affairs specialist, working predominantly in television but also in radio, and working in both news and current affairs as researcher, assistant producer and producer.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 78 reviews
June 27, 2022
Warning! Those of a non pedantic disposition should not read my review!
I’ll start with all the positives about this book. As an enthusiastic walker (although I’m currently very limited due to temporary health issues), I thoroughly enjoyed wandering the Rough Bounds of NW Scotland in Neil Ansell’s company. I can find nature writing boring at times but I’m not sure I would really classify this book as such. He’s clearly knowledgeable about birds, animals, plants and trees but he rarely goes beyond describing what he’s seeing as a backdrop to his walks. I was happy with that.
The title ‘A Journey into Silence’ is a wry comment on his loss of hearing which is steadily worsening. For someone who loves nature to be gradually losing the ability to hear birdsong is a tragedy. Also, he has other health problems that are making the physical demands of walks such as these less likely in the future. Ansell ruminates on these problems occasionally but not to the point of becoming maudlin.
So what are my problems with the book? Firstly, and I know this is extremely pedantic, but having said that he can hear very little now, he tells us on more than one occasion that ‘there was no sound at all’ or ‘there was a complete silence’. Well, was there? Or was it that he could hear nothing? In my experience, nature is rarely, if ever, silent.
Secondly, there were inconsistencies in his text. On a walk to a bothy, he reflected on what he might do if it was already full as he ‘had failed to pack a tent’. Four pages later, on finding the bothy already occupied, he sets off ’to find a beach to pitch my tent on’.
It was usually possible to track his walks on an OS map so I know that his description of looking down on a loch around which there was no trail is just wrong. I checked with walking websites and the route along the north side of the loch - his side - is a clear and popular track. Yes, I know I’m being pedantic but accuracy matters to me.
Thirdly, those with little experience of walking in wilderness areas are unlikely to follow in his footsteps but sadly some will and every year the rescue services are called in to search for idiots who have set off with little preparation and less of a clue. In the same way as a disclaimer was issued at the end of every episode of Julia Bradbury’s enjoyable Wainwright Walks tv series, so should this book carry one. Ansell frequently gets lost and relies only on his sense of direction and the hope that he will see a hill or loch that he recognises to set him back on the correct path. I find that completely irresponsible and frankly idiotic. He also drinks directly from mountain streams and lochs without first purifying the water. Dead sheep juice anyone?
Lastly, Ansell is very well travelled having spent much of his life wandering around the world backpacking. I’m sure a book on these travels would be a really interesting read but I found his anecdotes intrusive in this book. One minute I was walking in the wilds of the Highlands, the next he had me in Sweden, or Australia, or South America, or Africa. These interruptions often jarred and it was then that this mixture of outdoors/nature writing combined with autobiographical musings just didn’t work for me. There’s rather a tongue in cheek quote towards the end of the book when he shows some insight by saying, ’It reminded me of a long time ago. Of course it does, you say, everything reminds him of something else.’ I have no argument with that statement!
And breathe...........
Overall, I really did enjoy this book for the reasons given at the start of my review. Ansell raises thoughtful questions about solitude. Is it only a pleasure when we know we have someone to return to? Would it be such a pleasure if we didn’t? For me personally, the answer to that question is easy. Definitely 4 stars and recommended if you love NW Scotland or would like to learn more about it.
With thanks to NetGalley and Tinder Press for a review copy.
I’ll start with all the positives about this book. As an enthusiastic walker (although I’m currently very limited due to temporary health issues), I thoroughly enjoyed wandering the Rough Bounds of NW Scotland in Neil Ansell’s company. I can find nature writing boring at times but I’m not sure I would really classify this book as such. He’s clearly knowledgeable about birds, animals, plants and trees but he rarely goes beyond describing what he’s seeing as a backdrop to his walks. I was happy with that.
The title ‘A Journey into Silence’ is a wry comment on his loss of hearing which is steadily worsening. For someone who loves nature to be gradually losing the ability to hear birdsong is a tragedy. Also, he has other health problems that are making the physical demands of walks such as these less likely in the future. Ansell ruminates on these problems occasionally but not to the point of becoming maudlin.
So what are my problems with the book? Firstly, and I know this is extremely pedantic, but having said that he can hear very little now, he tells us on more than one occasion that ‘there was no sound at all’ or ‘there was a complete silence’. Well, was there? Or was it that he could hear nothing? In my experience, nature is rarely, if ever, silent.
Secondly, there were inconsistencies in his text. On a walk to a bothy, he reflected on what he might do if it was already full as he ‘had failed to pack a tent’. Four pages later, on finding the bothy already occupied, he sets off ’to find a beach to pitch my tent on’.
It was usually possible to track his walks on an OS map so I know that his description of looking down on a loch around which there was no trail is just wrong. I checked with walking websites and the route along the north side of the loch - his side - is a clear and popular track. Yes, I know I’m being pedantic but accuracy matters to me.
Thirdly, those with little experience of walking in wilderness areas are unlikely to follow in his footsteps but sadly some will and every year the rescue services are called in to search for idiots who have set off with little preparation and less of a clue. In the same way as a disclaimer was issued at the end of every episode of Julia Bradbury’s enjoyable Wainwright Walks tv series, so should this book carry one. Ansell frequently gets lost and relies only on his sense of direction and the hope that he will see a hill or loch that he recognises to set him back on the correct path. I find that completely irresponsible and frankly idiotic. He also drinks directly from mountain streams and lochs without first purifying the water. Dead sheep juice anyone?
Lastly, Ansell is very well travelled having spent much of his life wandering around the world backpacking. I’m sure a book on these travels would be a really interesting read but I found his anecdotes intrusive in this book. One minute I was walking in the wilds of the Highlands, the next he had me in Sweden, or Australia, or South America, or Africa. These interruptions often jarred and it was then that this mixture of outdoors/nature writing combined with autobiographical musings just didn’t work for me. There’s rather a tongue in cheek quote towards the end of the book when he shows some insight by saying, ’It reminded me of a long time ago. Of course it does, you say, everything reminds him of something else.’ I have no argument with that statement!
And breathe...........
Overall, I really did enjoy this book for the reasons given at the start of my review. Ansell raises thoughtful questions about solitude. Is it only a pleasure when we know we have someone to return to? Would it be such a pleasure if we didn’t? For me personally, the answer to that question is easy. Definitely 4 stars and recommended if you love NW Scotland or would like to learn more about it.
With thanks to NetGalley and Tinder Press for a review copy.
March 10, 2020
Neil Ansell likes being alone left to his thoughts and musings and preferably in a place where he can absorb the tranquillity whilst being outdoors. It hasn't happened as much as it used to as he now has two daughters and the responsibilities that come with being a parent.
His chosen wilderness is the West Coast of Scotland. This landscape offers the heady mix of islands, white beaches and blue seas, temperate rainforests (yes really), undisturbed lochs and majestic mountains. He has chosen this part of the UK to take long walks across the terrain in each of the seasons, aiming to immerse himself in nature and become part of it rather than just an observer. The interplay of light across the rolling hills as the weather changes almost minute by minute. Being so remote, the chances of coming across other people is unlikely and as he treads softly across the landscape and his solitary presence means that he gets to see far more of the animals that inhabit here. The joy of watching otters slipping into the sea lochs, seeing stags silhouetted on the skyline and seeing golden and sea eagles soaring above is tempered by a profound change in the way that he senses the world around. Almost deaf in one ear, he had relied for years on his other, but now that is fading from the highest frequencies down and the bird songs that once delighted him now inhabits his memories only.
Ansell is widely travelled; five continents and over fifty countries is quite a record. He has lived in a forest in Scandinavia, hitchhiked across countries, seen the wild animals of the Amazon, lived in squats in London and spent five years in a cottage in Wales with no running water or electricity. By returning to the same part of Scotland, it feels like a spiritual journey and he connects deeply to the landscape each time he visits, but it is tinged with the remorse that he has of no longer being able to hear the birdsong. It is a beautiful book to read, he has a knack of teasing out all that he sees around him into the most exquisite prose. I think that the writing is as good as Deep Country, which if you haven’t read then you should. Another excellent book from Ansell.
His chosen wilderness is the West Coast of Scotland. This landscape offers the heady mix of islands, white beaches and blue seas, temperate rainforests (yes really), undisturbed lochs and majestic mountains. He has chosen this part of the UK to take long walks across the terrain in each of the seasons, aiming to immerse himself in nature and become part of it rather than just an observer. The interplay of light across the rolling hills as the weather changes almost minute by minute. Being so remote, the chances of coming across other people is unlikely and as he treads softly across the landscape and his solitary presence means that he gets to see far more of the animals that inhabit here. The joy of watching otters slipping into the sea lochs, seeing stags silhouetted on the skyline and seeing golden and sea eagles soaring above is tempered by a profound change in the way that he senses the world around. Almost deaf in one ear, he had relied for years on his other, but now that is fading from the highest frequencies down and the bird songs that once delighted him now inhabits his memories only.
Ansell is widely travelled; five continents and over fifty countries is quite a record. He has lived in a forest in Scandinavia, hitchhiked across countries, seen the wild animals of the Amazon, lived in squats in London and spent five years in a cottage in Wales with no running water or electricity. By returning to the same part of Scotland, it feels like a spiritual journey and he connects deeply to the landscape each time he visits, but it is tinged with the remorse that he has of no longer being able to hear the birdsong. It is a beautiful book to read, he has a knack of teasing out all that he sees around him into the most exquisite prose. I think that the writing is as good as Deep Country, which if you haven’t read then you should. Another excellent book from Ansell.
February 1, 2018
Many travel books are about the quest for new, exotic places and the widest possible range of experiences; many nature books focus on the surprising quality and variety of life to be found by staying close to home. In that loose framework, Neil Ansell’s The Last Wilderness belongs on the nature shelf rather than the travel section: here he’s all about developing his knowledge of a particular place, the Northwest Highlands of Scotland, where he stays five times over the course of one year to give a panoramic view of the area in different non-touristy seasons.
Ansell’s visits have the flavor of a pilgrimage: his wonder at the region’s sights and sounds, and particularly at the creatures he encounters, is akin to what one would experience in the presence of the holy; he also writes about wildlife as if it is a relic of a fast-vanishing world. “It is that exploratory desire to possess the wilds for ourselves that has resulted in their disappearance,” he notes. A true wilderness is unvisited, and true solitude is hard to experience “if the world is only a click away.”
Depicted against this backdrop of environmental damage are the author’s personal losses: a heart problem and progressive hearing loss mean that the world is narrowing in for him. He mourns each sign of diminishment, such as the meadow pipits whose call he can no longer hear. Depth of experience is replacing breadth for him, though flashbacks to his intrepid world travels – an African safari, hitchhiking in Australia, time in Sweden and Costa Rica – show that he has tried both approaches. There’s a good balance here between adventuring and the comfort of an increasingly familiar place.
Like “a tale told round a campfire,” Ansell’s is a meandering and slightly melancholy story that draws you in. If The Last Wilderness suffers, it’s mostly in comparison with his Deep Country (2011), one of the most memorable nature/travel books I’ve ever read, a modern-day Walden about his five years living in a cottage in the Welsh hills. Solitude and survival are more powerful themes there, though they echo here too. Once again, he writes of magical encounters with wildlife and gives philosophical reflections on the nature of the self. I can highly recommend Neil Ansell’s books to anyone who enjoys nature and travel writing.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
Ansell’s visits have the flavor of a pilgrimage: his wonder at the region’s sights and sounds, and particularly at the creatures he encounters, is akin to what one would experience in the presence of the holy; he also writes about wildlife as if it is a relic of a fast-vanishing world. “It is that exploratory desire to possess the wilds for ourselves that has resulted in their disappearance,” he notes. A true wilderness is unvisited, and true solitude is hard to experience “if the world is only a click away.”
Depicted against this backdrop of environmental damage are the author’s personal losses: a heart problem and progressive hearing loss mean that the world is narrowing in for him. He mourns each sign of diminishment, such as the meadow pipits whose call he can no longer hear. Depth of experience is replacing breadth for him, though flashbacks to his intrepid world travels – an African safari, hitchhiking in Australia, time in Sweden and Costa Rica – show that he has tried both approaches. There’s a good balance here between adventuring and the comfort of an increasingly familiar place.
Like “a tale told round a campfire,” Ansell’s is a meandering and slightly melancholy story that draws you in. If The Last Wilderness suffers, it’s mostly in comparison with his Deep Country (2011), one of the most memorable nature/travel books I’ve ever read, a modern-day Walden about his five years living in a cottage in the Welsh hills. Solitude and survival are more powerful themes there, though they echo here too. Once again, he writes of magical encounters with wildlife and gives philosophical reflections on the nature of the self. I can highly recommend Neil Ansell’s books to anyone who enjoys nature and travel writing.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
March 10, 2022
3.5 stars
October 25, 2017
This book won't appeal to everyone, but it has a huge amount to offer to anyone who loves nature writing.
It's much more repetitive than a lot of other recent books of nature writing, though not exactly in the format of "person going to the same place over and over" like Rob Cowen's 'Common Ground'. No - what makes this book "repetitive" is the narrative pattern that the author follows in each section: he heads out with a general route in mind, he walks, climbs and scrambles, he finds lochs or rivers or beaches, he admires the trees and the wildlife.
But it never gets boring. It's a wonderfully calming, entrancing, and at times delightful read. You can feel the lushness and the ancientness of oak and pine woods, the ruggedness of the landscape, the shape of the coastline. There is plenty of wildlife, though the author doesn't set out to find anything in particular (except, perhaps, wildcat) - songbirds, eagles, waterfowl, deer, otters. The very last wildlife encounter was a particular joy to read. I am more desperate than ever to return to Scotland.
I love the prose itself too. It's never overblown, it never tries too hard to describe familiar things in new, quirky ways. Images are still vivid; they're just subtly drawn. Many passages compel you to re-read them.
A book to treasure.
It's much more repetitive than a lot of other recent books of nature writing, though not exactly in the format of "person going to the same place over and over" like Rob Cowen's 'Common Ground'. No - what makes this book "repetitive" is the narrative pattern that the author follows in each section: he heads out with a general route in mind, he walks, climbs and scrambles, he finds lochs or rivers or beaches, he admires the trees and the wildlife.
But it never gets boring. It's a wonderfully calming, entrancing, and at times delightful read. You can feel the lushness and the ancientness of oak and pine woods, the ruggedness of the landscape, the shape of the coastline. There is plenty of wildlife, though the author doesn't set out to find anything in particular (except, perhaps, wildcat) - songbirds, eagles, waterfowl, deer, otters. The very last wildlife encounter was a particular joy to read. I am more desperate than ever to return to Scotland.
I love the prose itself too. It's never overblown, it never tries too hard to describe familiar things in new, quirky ways. Images are still vivid; they're just subtly drawn. Many passages compel you to re-read them.
A book to treasure.
December 16, 2019
This book is infused with the notion of solitude and a deep love of the natural world; especially the idea that the impact of mankind upon nature is so pervasive that our mere presence, our act of observation changes the environment, almost never for the better. Ansell captures the beauty, the wildness and the unique character of the remote, rugged Northwest Highlands with great insight and sensitivity. His relationship with the land is a deeply personal one. It's a quiet book, by which I mean that there's little that we usually think of as drama. Ansell doesn't 'progress' in a travel sense; he is a solitary wanderer, deliberately passive, inviting the natural world and its creatures to speak to him, reveal itself on its own terms. He is concerned with both his spectacular surroundings and with his own state of mind and body as his health declines. He is not fatalistic; but he is placidly embracing his mortality; despite being an idealist, he is a man of few illusions.
Hence, the book is his farewell to this treasured land and perhaps to his own life as a wanderer.
Natural history in its best sense (I've shelved it as 'our world' rather than 'travel'). Very enjoyable; I expect to re-read it again next winter (in lieu of a personal journey to Scotland, which I'm unlikely to take).
Hence, the book is his farewell to this treasured land and perhaps to his own life as a wanderer.
Natural history in its best sense (I've shelved it as 'our world' rather than 'travel'). Very enjoyable; I expect to re-read it again next winter (in lieu of a personal journey to Scotland, which I'm unlikely to take).
March 7, 2019
I was really looking forward to reading this but found it repetitive and self serving.
Read
August 24, 2018Shortlisted for the Wainwright Prize 2018.
Video Review: https://youtu.be/mDyu7EbWWC8
Video Review: https://youtu.be/mDyu7EbWWC8
February 19, 2018
I found this to be a calming and enlightening read and am in total admiration of the author and wilderness walker, Neil Ansell, who sets off alone to enjoy the beauty that the world has to offer despite his own failing health.
It is set in the North West Highlands and the descriptions make it sound like heaven on earth! Would have loved to have had some photos to accompany the text, but he has a wonderful way with words that helps paint the picture of the scenes he encounters. And with his failing hearing, you do get the sense that he picks up more on the sights although he does mention the sounds he misses as his beloved songbird soundtrack is slowly disappearing to him because of his deafness.
This doesn't stop him setting off alone to explore the Highlands and noticing changes in the wildlife and scenery from trips he's made years ago, and it does make you worry about the mess that humans are leaving behind, especially as he even finds rubbish dumped along one of his paths in the middle of nowhere.
It's a fascinating mix of nature writing as he encounters a variety of wildlife, alongside his own thoughts on his love of the solitude and how that hasn't always been compatible with his lifestyle, and that he doesn't feel he's missing out on things because he likes to be alone. It also touches on how those travelling nowadays aren't really cut off from the world with the use of GPS and the internet, as opposed to when you'd occasionally get sent a postcard from someone away and how you can never really be cut off from what's going on in the world because of technology and that saddens him.
I loved how he wrote this over a period of 5 visits over a year so you get to see the changes each season bring and how his outlook differs over each time. It was absorbing and uplifting and I will be more interested to pick up the other books from this author now to enjoy more of his adventures and views.
It is set in the North West Highlands and the descriptions make it sound like heaven on earth! Would have loved to have had some photos to accompany the text, but he has a wonderful way with words that helps paint the picture of the scenes he encounters. And with his failing hearing, you do get the sense that he picks up more on the sights although he does mention the sounds he misses as his beloved songbird soundtrack is slowly disappearing to him because of his deafness.
This doesn't stop him setting off alone to explore the Highlands and noticing changes in the wildlife and scenery from trips he's made years ago, and it does make you worry about the mess that humans are leaving behind, especially as he even finds rubbish dumped along one of his paths in the middle of nowhere.
It's a fascinating mix of nature writing as he encounters a variety of wildlife, alongside his own thoughts on his love of the solitude and how that hasn't always been compatible with his lifestyle, and that he doesn't feel he's missing out on things because he likes to be alone. It also touches on how those travelling nowadays aren't really cut off from the world with the use of GPS and the internet, as opposed to when you'd occasionally get sent a postcard from someone away and how you can never really be cut off from what's going on in the world because of technology and that saddens him.
I loved how he wrote this over a period of 5 visits over a year so you get to see the changes each season bring and how his outlook differs over each time. It was absorbing and uplifting and I will be more interested to pick up the other books from this author now to enjoy more of his adventures and views.
January 15, 2018
Subtitled A Journey into Silence, this is a beautifully written account of one man's explorations of the Highlands of Scotland as he meditates on his increasing deafness (which he measures by the birds he can no longer hear sing) and the loss of species from our countryside. He writes about his preference for being in nature by himself and I can totally understand that love of solitude, however as it becomes clear that failing hearing is not his only health concern it starts to seem foolhardy of him to be out there by himself, not for him alone (that is after all his decision to make) but because he is single parent to two children.
Setting that concern aside I did really enjoy this book. Ansell's writing is beautiful without falling into the self conscious overly poetic style beloved of many of the more literary nature writers of the day. Here is his description of the call of the curlew:
'Once of twice, a curlew called its plangent, rising trill. For me, this is the most evocative of all bird calls. It has a visceral effect on me, like a punch to the solar plexus. Whenever I hear it I am immediately transported back to my childhood self, wandering the marshes alone.'
I love the way he weaves together his observations of the Scottish Highlands alongside similar experiences in other times or other places (though this does become slightly confusing on occasion, perhaps deliberately so).
Setting that concern aside I did really enjoy this book. Ansell's writing is beautiful without falling into the self conscious overly poetic style beloved of many of the more literary nature writers of the day. Here is his description of the call of the curlew:
'Once of twice, a curlew called its plangent, rising trill. For me, this is the most evocative of all bird calls. It has a visceral effect on me, like a punch to the solar plexus. Whenever I hear it I am immediately transported back to my childhood self, wandering the marshes alone.'
I love the way he weaves together his observations of the Scottish Highlands alongside similar experiences in other times or other places (though this does become slightly confusing on occasion, perhaps deliberately so).
November 20, 2018
A great book to chill out with especially for nature lovers and ramblers!
July 16, 2024
This has to be one of the best pieces of nature writing I’ve ever read, it was so beautiful and heart wrenching at times I cried a bit. I listened on audiobook whilst away hiking part of the Wales Coast Path, and it was the perfect companion. But I did have to pause it to listen to the birds, because this book made me so grateful for their song.
March 6, 2018
I've been meaning to pick up more nature writing and this has been the perfect introduction. Neil Ansell's astute observations and eloquent descriptions of his solitary journey through the remote Scottish highlands was a sheer delight to experience – bringing a sense of calm to my hectic days with the sheer power of his words.
Even to someone like me who cannot possible imagine leaving modern amenities behind for the wild, his writings about the tranquil landscape and animal life he came across on his path sounded like a very tempting alternative to having my weeks and months fly by in a busy city where the bird sounds are drowned out by human noise.
What I particularly enjoyed within this memoir was Ansell recounting travel stories from throughout his life, linking, for example, an animal encounter in the present to one from years before on a different continent. Having spend some time in similar places to Ansell I recognised certain locations, but his perceptive observations far exceeded my own, creating a far richer experience; even second-hand through his wonderful words.
A truly beautiful and serene read, providing a point of calm in our fast-paced and ever-connected lives and a renewed appreciation of the natural world surrounding us.
4.5 stars
Even to someone like me who cannot possible imagine leaving modern amenities behind for the wild, his writings about the tranquil landscape and animal life he came across on his path sounded like a very tempting alternative to having my weeks and months fly by in a busy city where the bird sounds are drowned out by human noise.
What I particularly enjoyed within this memoir was Ansell recounting travel stories from throughout his life, linking, for example, an animal encounter in the present to one from years before on a different continent. Having spend some time in similar places to Ansell I recognised certain locations, but his perceptive observations far exceeded my own, creating a far richer experience; even second-hand through his wonderful words.
A truly beautiful and serene read, providing a point of calm in our fast-paced and ever-connected lives and a renewed appreciation of the natural world surrounding us.
4.5 stars
March 24, 2020
This should have been a brilliant book and I loved the premise. It's the account of a journey made by Neil Ansell, a guy who knows so much about nature and loves wild places, into the "rough bounds" of the western Scottish Highlands. He goes five times through the year, camping or staying in bothies and observing nature around him. An added element is his deteriorating sense of hearing gradually reducing the number of sounds he can make out.
The philosophising and musings are interesting too but I do wish he were a better writer, more in control of his text. Frequently, he is reminded of past events and he digresses to relate what happened to him in other places of the world. This in itself is fine but the digressions can confuse the reader as they are not always clearly separated from the present and one wonders whether he is telling us about what he is thinking/doing is Scotland or in Australia/South America. Too often I found myself re-reading a section to work this out. He could have used italics, a different font or dividers to help the reader but it's almost as if the book was written for himself more than the wider world.
The philosophising and musings are interesting too but I do wish he were a better writer, more in control of his text. Frequently, he is reminded of past events and he digresses to relate what happened to him in other places of the world. This in itself is fine but the digressions can confuse the reader as they are not always clearly separated from the present and one wonders whether he is telling us about what he is thinking/doing is Scotland or in Australia/South America. Too often I found myself re-reading a section to work this out. He could have used italics, a different font or dividers to help the reader but it's almost as if the book was written for himself more than the wider world.
August 22, 2019
Salainen paheeni, "guilty pleasure", on nämä tällaiset keski-ikäisten miesten kirjoittamat kuljen metsässä ja mietin maailmaa/elämää -kirjat. Äänikirjoina ne ovat mukavaa kuunneltavaa työmatkoille ja koiran ulkoilutuksen yhteydessä. Taustahuminaa, josta joskus jää joku ajatus tai kuvailu mieleen, mutta välttämättä ei. Eikä se haittaa, jos ei jää. Ansellin kirja on genressään hyvä ja Audiblen lukija oli erinomainen.
June 12, 2020
There is sadness in this book and it often feels rather melancholic.
But it is also one of the most beautiful and calming books I have ever read. Even if you don't love Scotland the way I do, I'd highly recommend it. His descriptions of nature and wildlife, as well as his travels and experiences, are so well written.
But it is also one of the most beautiful and calming books I have ever read. Even if you don't love Scotland the way I do, I'd highly recommend it. His descriptions of nature and wildlife, as well as his travels and experiences, are so well written.
August 23, 2019
Superb nature writing, beautifully expressed. I felt I was in the Highlands, too. Perfect for the armchair naturalist.
January 24, 2022
Really enjoyed this. The writing was lovely. The author revisits a specific area in Scotland several times during the year, in fact the Ardnamurchan peninsular. We have stayed here for a few days travelling from Mull on the ferry. We ventured to the most western tip of the British mainland and made our way up the lighthouse in very strong wind! It is a beautiful area.
Neil Ansell clearly immerses himself in nature. He walks, wanders off trail, wild camps on beaches, climbs mountains. He is an adventurer and a happy, lone spirit. He writes about the wildlife, the geography, the weather, the sky and it is wonderful. He says very little about his personal circumstances and I have a natural curiosity but I think the book benefitted actually from this. Pure nature. He does talk a little about his hearing loss in relation to nature and this was thought provoking. He has a very philosophical view of life and the world and did not allow health concern to prevent his adventure. Some would say reckless, I guess, and I could not have done this but I sort of admired his peace with life.
Definitely a beautifully written nature book I would recommend.
Neil Ansell clearly immerses himself in nature. He walks, wanders off trail, wild camps on beaches, climbs mountains. He is an adventurer and a happy, lone spirit. He writes about the wildlife, the geography, the weather, the sky and it is wonderful. He says very little about his personal circumstances and I have a natural curiosity but I think the book benefitted actually from this. Pure nature. He does talk a little about his hearing loss in relation to nature and this was thought provoking. He has a very philosophical view of life and the world and did not allow health concern to prevent his adventure. Some would say reckless, I guess, and I could not have done this but I sort of admired his peace with life.
Definitely a beautifully written nature book I would recommend.
October 22, 2022
A 5 star read here from Ansell.
This foray into the Scottish wilderness is a true gem. The writing is sincere, heartfelt and deeply philosophical without being overly sentimental.
Ansell has a knack of providing the perfect context for his interactions with nature and wildlife. Observe but don't interfere. Get close but only at the comfort of the wildlife.
Ansell is pragmatic about his declining heart health and his slowly diminishing hearing, choosing not to bemoan the situation and dwell on the negative, but in a zen, almost Buddhist manner, chooses to live for the moment and rejoice in what can be experienced- smells, sights, textures, colours, feelings.
Truly inspiring nature writing here that I highly recommend.
This foray into the Scottish wilderness is a true gem. The writing is sincere, heartfelt and deeply philosophical without being overly sentimental.
Ansell has a knack of providing the perfect context for his interactions with nature and wildlife. Observe but don't interfere. Get close but only at the comfort of the wildlife.
Ansell is pragmatic about his declining heart health and his slowly diminishing hearing, choosing not to bemoan the situation and dwell on the negative, but in a zen, almost Buddhist manner, chooses to live for the moment and rejoice in what can be experienced- smells, sights, textures, colours, feelings.
Truly inspiring nature writing here that I highly recommend.
September 14, 2021
Although this is a book about loss, the slow loss of the natural beauty that once covered this island and the author’s own personal loss, his hearing, it makes for a fantastic read. Often melancholy but never depressing, Neil Ansell has so many stories to tell as he explores the Rough Bounds, an area in the North West Highlands that I had already fallen in love with a few years ago on my first visit to this part of Scotland.
Neil’s humble and respectful travel memoir is also a tale of someone who relishes solitude. A wonderful man who returned to an area he first visited as a much younger man. I found the book very inspirational and well humoured. Highly recommended.
Neil’s humble and respectful travel memoir is also a tale of someone who relishes solitude. A wonderful man who returned to an area he first visited as a much younger man. I found the book very inspirational and well humoured. Highly recommended.
January 4, 2024
Also read this for my PhD. A bittersweet memoir about hiking the highlands in solitude while change is prevalent: the author's health is failing and his heart condition and hearing problems might prevent him from accessing the places and hearing the birds from his past, yet the birds are also disappearing as humanity continues to hurt the natural world. Poetic and easy to read, I wish there had been a map and some more concrete info on the specific hikes...
January 6, 2025
Een soort van documentaire over zijn wandelingen in Schotland maar dan geschreven. Beschrijvend, veel details vooral van de omgeving. Vooral interessant als je eens op die plekken bent geweest en alle dieren kent, anders kun je beter een leuke documentaire daarover kijken. Heeft een paar leuke reflecties, maar was verder ook erg saai.
January 9, 2023
A beautiful and heartbreaking story of nature’s healing abilities and solitudes embrace. One man’s journey through the wilds of Scotland whilst battling poor health and loss of his hearing.
He described his experiences with such raw emotions and you feel his pain and joy in equal amounts.
He described his experiences with such raw emotions and you feel his pain and joy in equal amounts.
April 19, 2023
I know those woods, those lochs, those rocky shores. And Ansell took me there. Deftly done, direct and beautifully written. He provides reflection on why he seeks solitude - “a stranger in the distance was all it took to change my perspective, so that instead of seeing a landscape, I saw myself within it” - an embodied, unfiltered experience, without diminishment through representation. But I wanted more on why this landscape, the Northwest Highlands of Scotland, so resonates. Why does a specific timbre of landscape interact with an individual mix of genes, culture and upbringing to create that spiritual response? What does this tell us?
December 29, 2021
As I turn the last page I feel like taking a plane and going for a long, uninterrupted, solitary trip to the Highlands. A one way ticket, that's what I want to buy.
Reading the book, I remembered my trips to Scotland, to the Shetlands and thought I wanted to find a peaceful loch, to sit ashore and just do nothing but to observe the birds and wait for the sunset to stole the light of the day, set a fire, sleep on a tent.
I turn the pages and I relax. So well written, full of details about nature that only a solitary and observing human being can perceive. Only a person who is not pretending to climb the top summits of the highest mountains in the shortest period of time, but merely to experience, to enjoy every second, without pressure. Only a person like Neil can write so beautifully and with such precision.
Birds, hills, stones, moos, beaches, deers. That's all. That and the rare, unexpected, undesirable but at times enjoyable meeting of other solitary souls in and under the dominance of a majestic nature, untouched.
Come along and enjoy this journey in the wilderness, alone.
Reading the book, I remembered my trips to Scotland, to the Shetlands and thought I wanted to find a peaceful loch, to sit ashore and just do nothing but to observe the birds and wait for the sunset to stole the light of the day, set a fire, sleep on a tent.
I turn the pages and I relax. So well written, full of details about nature that only a solitary and observing human being can perceive. Only a person who is not pretending to climb the top summits of the highest mountains in the shortest period of time, but merely to experience, to enjoy every second, without pressure. Only a person like Neil can write so beautifully and with such precision.
Birds, hills, stones, moos, beaches, deers. That's all. That and the rare, unexpected, undesirable but at times enjoyable meeting of other solitary souls in and under the dominance of a majestic nature, untouched.
Come along and enjoy this journey in the wilderness, alone.
October 31, 2018
This book was a surprise gift to me from a good friend. He thought I would like it. He was wrong.
I loved it.
In a nutshell, the book is about the author visiting on his own a remote part of Scotland five times over the course of a year. He writes about where he walked, what he saw and the memories these visits evoked from a lifetime of travelling.
I can see why my friend thought I would like the book as I too like to walk and explore wild remote places on my own. The other shared experience is that Neil Ansell is losing his hearing, as I already have. We are kindred spirits and I enjoyed reading this memoir.
A big “thank you” to my friend who spotted this book & bought it for me. I don’t think I’d have come across this book otherwise.
I loved it.
In a nutshell, the book is about the author visiting on his own a remote part of Scotland five times over the course of a year. He writes about where he walked, what he saw and the memories these visits evoked from a lifetime of travelling.
I can see why my friend thought I would like the book as I too like to walk and explore wild remote places on my own. The other shared experience is that Neil Ansell is losing his hearing, as I already have. We are kindred spirits and I enjoyed reading this memoir.
A big “thank you” to my friend who spotted this book & bought it for me. I don’t think I’d have come across this book otherwise.
August 19, 2020
The Last Wilderness is a beautifully written and often moving work that describes the author's connection with nature, and especially nature in solitude. As the title hints, a significant aspect of the journey is how part of that connection is being lost - or readjusted to as he loses his hearing. One by one, the birds of his youth are falling silent. The otter cubs calling to their mothers have also lost their voice. It is a deep and honest reflection of how our senses empower our experiences, especially in nature.
The vast majority of the journey is set in the Highlands of Scotland, as he explores the Ardnamurchan peninsula, a remote, western strip of wilderness. As he immerses himself into the Rough Bounds, wild camping and walking as he goes, with no fixed abode or destination - he collects experiences and wild moments. Many are ones that left me envious - from finding footprints of a wildcat, to seeing a deer and fawn, or eagles hunting. But it also made me very appreciative of the things I have experienced, such as seeing wild otters - which many people haven't. The reflection really is very lovely.
There are aspects of the journey and narration that irked me. For instance, the author's feelings about cameras and looking down on taking photos (he prefers to collect moments and experiences in memory), seemed strange to me - especially as the book is about the fallibility of our senses and abilities. And he politely refuses to see a pine marten dine at a local resident's bird table, as he felt it would cheapen the quality of the experience. This seems arrogant and a little unnecessary. He also seems woefully unprepared and dangerously flippant at times. His wanderlust means he spends a section walking with a leaking boot, having not checked it - and blisters, coldness, general drenching, and potential ill health ensues. Also, for someone who values the quality of the moment, his habit of not filling up his water bottle when he finds it seems a little odd. In many ways, his attitude strikes me as very similar to that of Christopher McCandless (Into the Wild) - whose optimism and naivety proved tragically and unnecessarily fatal.
But, there was real joy to be found in the wild moments and the solitude being sought. It made me want to switch off the phone and disappear into the wild - and spend a significant time alone in real wilderness. Something the book undoubtedly shows we should see as precious and a privilege - as we never quite know when we (or our senses) will leave this world. IT must also be said, that nothing of the author's reflection is melancholic. In fact, his adaptation and attitude is very uplifting. He makes the most of what he has. And, as the end note hints at - I hope the technology comes along in his lifetime to help him recover some of what he is losing.
The vast majority of the journey is set in the Highlands of Scotland, as he explores the Ardnamurchan peninsula, a remote, western strip of wilderness. As he immerses himself into the Rough Bounds, wild camping and walking as he goes, with no fixed abode or destination - he collects experiences and wild moments. Many are ones that left me envious - from finding footprints of a wildcat, to seeing a deer and fawn, or eagles hunting. But it also made me very appreciative of the things I have experienced, such as seeing wild otters - which many people haven't. The reflection really is very lovely.
There are aspects of the journey and narration that irked me. For instance, the author's feelings about cameras and looking down on taking photos (he prefers to collect moments and experiences in memory), seemed strange to me - especially as the book is about the fallibility of our senses and abilities. And he politely refuses to see a pine marten dine at a local resident's bird table, as he felt it would cheapen the quality of the experience. This seems arrogant and a little unnecessary. He also seems woefully unprepared and dangerously flippant at times. His wanderlust means he spends a section walking with a leaking boot, having not checked it - and blisters, coldness, general drenching, and potential ill health ensues. Also, for someone who values the quality of the moment, his habit of not filling up his water bottle when he finds it seems a little odd. In many ways, his attitude strikes me as very similar to that of Christopher McCandless (Into the Wild) - whose optimism and naivety proved tragically and unnecessarily fatal.
But, there was real joy to be found in the wild moments and the solitude being sought. It made me want to switch off the phone and disappear into the wild - and spend a significant time alone in real wilderness. Something the book undoubtedly shows we should see as precious and a privilege - as we never quite know when we (or our senses) will leave this world. IT must also be said, that nothing of the author's reflection is melancholic. In fact, his adaptation and attitude is very uplifting. He makes the most of what he has. And, as the end note hints at - I hope the technology comes along in his lifetime to help him recover some of what he is losing.
February 17, 2018
There is a part of all of us that would like to be like Neil Ansell, unafraid to pack the fewest of belongings and head out into the wilds. Most of us do this only in our dreams, yet Ansell has been footloose since his earliest youth, and has spent much of his life a solitary wanderer. The Last Wilderness tells the story of his return, in poor health, to the wilderness that first started him off - the 'Rough Bounds' of the Western Highlands of Scotland, the near-inaccessible peninsulas just inland of Skye and the Small Isles. A series of hikes over the course of a year sees him scrambling up cliffs, slithering down scree, and coming face to face with red deer, seals, otters and an aviary of birds. He didn't manage to see a wild cat, though a wild cat did see him. There is an elegiac quality to this, as, page by page, we learn how progressive deafness is removing the song of first one bird from his experience, and then another - hence the book's subtitle, 'a journey into silence'. And again, how a once-heroic stamina is being weakened by a kind of slow-motion heart failure. Trails that he once bounded along with carefree ease become gloomy and arduous. It is all very beautiful, and almost painfully sad. As I came to the end of the book I kept thinking of Raspberries, Strawberries, a song by the Kingston Trio from my parents' record collection: A young man goes to Paris, as every young man should/ there's something in the air of France that does a young man good... An old man returns to Paris, as every old man must/ He finds the winter winds blow cold, his dreams have turned to dust.
August 16, 2025
I think it's my fault I didn't like this book as much as I should, and not a fault of the book itself. This being so for a couple of reasons: I'd like to get more into bird-watching, but at this point I know very little about birds, so many of the descriptions of avian life (and really many of the animals) were foreign and hard for me to picture. Secondly, Scotland's Rough Bounds seems like a beautiful place to explore; but I think I'm kinda a shameless sucker for American nature. I love the National Parks and places I can conceivably drive to from my home because I can picture myself there. Nothing against Scotland, but it seems like an alien planet to me at this point in my life (I'm definitely gonna have to do something about this, huh?...). Thanks to Ansell, however, for this thoughtful solitary journey.
3.5/5 Stars
"This is what can happen when you are completely alone in nature; you may see all the same things as when you are in company, but you see them quite differently. You slough off the skin of self, all self-awareness, and are left with pure sensation. Nothing has a name; it is only itself. You look at a tree, and instead of seeing it as an idea, a network of associations built up over a lifetime, you see it for itself, pure form, freed of all preconceptions. You see the play of light, and everything is radiant, everything is in fact made of light. I have had moments like this since childhood, moments when I felt that I had stepped out of time, moments when I felt as though there was no longer any filter between me and the world: the filter being, I suppose, the carefully constructed self."
3.5/5 Stars
"This is what can happen when you are completely alone in nature; you may see all the same things as when you are in company, but you see them quite differently. You slough off the skin of self, all self-awareness, and are left with pure sensation. Nothing has a name; it is only itself. You look at a tree, and instead of seeing it as an idea, a network of associations built up over a lifetime, you see it for itself, pure form, freed of all preconceptions. You see the play of light, and everything is radiant, everything is in fact made of light. I have had moments like this since childhood, moments when I felt that I had stepped out of time, moments when I felt as though there was no longer any filter between me and the world: the filter being, I suppose, the carefully constructed self."
March 5, 2021
Neil writes beautiful prose, reminiscent of Robert Macfarlane, another favourite author of mine. His journeys to Knoydart, a wild and remote part of Scotland, in which I have climbed, are recalled over a year in this emotionally-charged book. His descriptions of the natural world, the animals, birds, trees, flora and fauna that he encounters, are very evocative. He has a powerful sense of self-awareness, from living on his own much of his life. But he is no loner and enjoys the company of like-minded people; he encounters fellow wanderers in bothies and enjoys sharing his knowledge. During this journey he describes his failing hearing and health battles. The journey into silence is tinged with meaning, both external and internal, for him. He inadvertently helped me, as I realised that I, too, couldn’t hear all the birdsong that I used to. I also have lost some of my hearing but only became aware of it from treading this lovely book by Neil. One minor criticism, I would have liked a map and more detail of place names. I know he’s probably trying to preserve the sense of remoteness but I like to cross-reference places on my OS maps.
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