In a letter to her husband Peter, thirty years her senior and recovering in Whanganui from a serious medical condition, while Miriam Lancewood and another Dutch woman undertook a ten week, totally self-reliant journey in the Southern Alps, she wrote the following passage. ‘I shot a goose some days ago. When I ran to it, the animal was still alive and I had to twist its neck with my hands. It was awful and cruel but I could only think of food. We ate crickets and grasshoppers. We saw maggots crawling in the meat – and it didn’t even matter. Nothing matters in the heart of the wilderness. We are far away from civilisation; we have moved beyond good and evil.’
That quote comes from near the end of her book. Lancewood writes well, especially in her letters to her beloved husband. Her style is direct, unpretentious, heartfelt and, above all, brutally honest. Perhaps these are the qualities essential to being able to live successfully and happily in ‘true wilderness’. If anyone knows the answer to that question, it’s Miriam and Peter.
I have not read Lancewood’s first book, Woman in the wilderness, but it has been very well received. When I began reading Wild at heart I wasn’t sure what to expect. What more would there be to say about being wild at heart after having written about a woman in the wilderness? A quick glance at the table of contents in Wild at heart suggested a travel log through Europe and Australia, before returning to New Zealand, riding on the coat tails of Woman in the Wilderness.
To begin with it even felt a bit like that, but as I turned the pages, becoming more familiar with Lancewood’s honest descriptions, reflections and introspection, as she recounted one unusual situation or encounter after another, I began to feel a sense of respect building in me. I count myself as an outdoors person – certainly not a ‘hard man of the hills’ but I know what it is to crave escape from modern urban life and to feel the sheer joy of being alone in the mountains. But Lancewood and her partner take ‘going bush’ to another plane entirely.
And the situations and encounters Lancewood describes are not just with nature, like encountering a Lynx. Many relate to people – hitching along the wrong side of an autobahn with an old German with dementia, another time with a Bulgarian driver intent on trying to have sex with Lancewood (he failed), time spent with a cult group in Switzerland, and a shorter than expected stay with a homicidal environmentalist in the Australian outback. In fact, the most hair-raising situations Lancewood writes about involve people, yet she seems to take those involved at face value rather than passing judgement on them. This should not be confused with passivity though. Lancewood’s writing projects energy, proactivity and fearlessness.
The couple reach a crisis point near the end of the book when Peter becomes ill in Australia, leading ultimately to serious kidney failure. He does beat very scary odds to eventually recover, but has to convalesce while Lancewood, with his blessing, undertakes a two-month journey in the alps with another Dutch woman.
If anyone is left with any doubt about the genuineness of the couples love for living in the wild, the epilogue explains that, with Peter regaining strength, then the onset of COVID-19, they decided that it was time to leave ‘civilisation’ behind again. To quote Lancewood ‘Where we are now is a mystery. We left the town and roads behind, and followed a small goat track that lead into the high mountains.’ So keep an eye out – if you go far enough off the beaten track in our New Zealand backcountry, you may just cross paths with them.
Wild At Heart – The dangers and delights of a nomadic life is thought provoking, entertaining and inspiring. I recommend it.