I think I have always been a hiker; I just didn’t realise quite how much I enjoyed the activity until a few years ago.

Both my parents enjoyed walking, and this has probably had something to do with their longevity. Only recently, my Mum found a 1969 diary entry about me hiking from Littlehampton to Southampton, about 45 miles, with my school friend Dale. We planned to do it in two days, which was rather rash given our untested feet. Also, what possessed us to walk via ‘A’ roads I cannot think.

Anyway, we discovered the limits of our friendship when we fell out somewhere around Chichester. I don’t think we got much further, as I remember my Uncle Roy, who lived in Southampton, kindly coming to pick us up from near here. I cannot remember much more, but I suppose we spent a day or two with him and my Auntie Elsie in Southampton before returning home, probably in Uncle Roy’s car.

I also remember greatly enjoying orienteering exercises with the Air Training Corps in my teens, and I must have been quite good at map reading as I often seemed to end up being ‘leader’. I must have got ‘my team’ back to base in time for supper, since I can’t remember receiving the bruises which would have inevitably accompanied failure.

Other than that, I don’t think that I thought very much about walking at all, although I must have done quite a bit of it up until the age of 33. This was when Sheila, my wife at the time, decided, not unreasonably, that it was about time we owned a car (especially since I had possessed a full licence since the age of 17). Prior to this, with a young family, an expensive mortgage (15%!! yes really, you younger readers), shops close by and a job within walking distance, a car had seemed a bit of a luxury.

Now wind rapidly forward to 2003 (yes, I know I have split the infinitive here, but you can blame those who boldly went and produced Star Trek for that). For some strange reason I had this compelling desire to go for a long walk! The South Downs Way ends in Winchester, only a short distance from where I live, so how about that? It starts in Eastbourne, but there is a choice of routes between there and Alfriston, one inland and the other near the coast. Unable to decide which to take, I resolved to do both, starting from Alfriston and looping over the hills to Eastbourne and back via the Seven Sisters on the first day. By doing this I had made the total length of the hike comfortably over 100 miles. Being an engineer, I like nice round numbers.

At 20 miles, the loop from Alfriston to Eastbourne and back turned out to be just a tad too far, at least in the £10 trainers I was wearing. Blisters were already starting to make their appearance. The very nice lady in the B&B at Alfriston gave me her son’s insoles, which fitted nicely into my trainers. Her son was elsewhere at the time, and I don’t think she appreciated how expensive they were. Nor did I until much later when I bought some more. I suspect her son might have been somewhat annoyed when he found out. All I can say is they enabled me to continue hobbling along my way. Many thanks to you both.

That particular week in 2003 turned out to be the hottest of the year. The Downs walk is relatively unprotected from the sun, and I found myself hobbling briskly between one sprig of foliage and the next to obtain the slightest smidgen of shade. I drank well in excess of 4 litres of water on one particular day, which fortunately was accessible from farmyard taps. At least the searing heat and the unquenchable desire for water took my mind off the pain of the blisters. Further on, I was joined by my friend Brian who motivated, prodded and guided me for yet a further 20 miles. My blisters were quite ‘mature’ by then, and although I was coping with the pain, I knew that I had to find a way of dealing with them if my walking career was going to continue.

Salvation came as I approached Queen Elizabeth County Park, where I met a gap-year student who had already walked the North Downs Way. “Burst the buggers” he said, as he showed me his own bloody feet. I didn’t exactly emulate him, but decided upon a similar operation that allowed the fluid out whist not exposing the blister to infection (patent pending). My feet still hurt, but were tolerable.

With my expensive insoles and my blisters ‘operated upon’, I continued my slightly less painful hobble all the way into Winchester, where I was greeted by a wonderful sign saying ‘You have made it! Well done’. OK. I lied about the sign. In fact, there was nothing I could see whatsoever which would prevent my arrival in Winchester being a complete anti-climax. I caught the bus home.

However, once home, the magnitude of my achievement was most clearly demonstrated by the fact that it took three days before I could even stand without wincing. Hard as it may be to believe, I knew that I was seriously hooked on this walking lark, but realised that I had to find some better footwear.

Since that time I have learned a bit more about what to wear, how much food and water to bring, how much I can carry, how far I can walk in a day over different terrain, and so on. After our initial association along the South Downs Way, Brian and I have subsequently completed the full 630 mile long South West Coast Path in six roughly equal sections, each taking a week.

Further to this, I have enjoyed solo hikes along the lengths of Hadrian’s Wall, the West Highland Way with a glorious, snow-bound, ascent of Ben Nevis as a finale (in June!) and the recently devised Beacon’s Way, wild-camping on the Welsh summits.

So I think now I am ready for what some regard as the ultimate British walk – sometimes referred to as the End-to-End – between Land’s End and John o’Groats.