Places of the Heart

The author and sugar-free champion finds clarity and inspiration hiking the world’s most beautiful trails.

Author Sarah Wilson’s most memorable travel tales

1990s | France PARIS

When I was 18, I was robbed in Paris and lost everything – my passport, my credit cards, everything. This was pre-internet and I ended up living on the streets for two weeks, on my own.

I would jump trains, steal food and sneak into hostels to sleep. I wandered around the shops on the Champs-Élysées and in the Marais district, just looking. I’d go and sit in Jardin du Luxembourg and kill time, with nothing but my thoughts. It was the most free I have ever felt.

It took two weeks to get the money wired to pay for a new passport – it was that complex back then. To get by, I stumbled into this quasi job speaking English with businesspeople over lunch. My payment was a three-course meal, which sustained me for the day.

The experience showed me that wherever I might find myself, I am able to cope. To this day, if I need respite, I pass through Paris just to go and sit in the park.

2016 | Switzerland SILS-MARIA

The incredibly beautiful mountainous area of Sils-Maria is where Heidi was set. When I read the book as a child, it was so evocative; I grew up in country Australia, drinking goat’s milk like Heidi.

It’s a popular hiking spot and there aren’t any cars in town – you walk everywhere or take a horse and cart. I stayed in a little hut where they feed you cheese, milk and meats every morning before you go up into the mountains.

All of my books have been conceived in one way or another while hiking and travelling. I lived out of an eight-kilogram bag for eight years and wrote in chalets in the middle of nowhere, at airport terminals, in bars in New York. When I’m stuck with my writing, I go hiking.

I now know that some of the great philosophers loved hiking and one of my favourites, Friedrich Nietzsche, developed his Superman theory in Sils-Maria.

2017 | Greece CRETE

I caught a bus for two and a half hours up to a gorge in the middle of Crete, with only a credit card down my bra, a water bottle and a book – that was it. Of course, when I got there, the entry fee was cash only.

As I was explaining my situation to the guard, this young man, a stranger, came up and said, “This ticket’s for her”. He’d seen me in the queue and we ended up completing the five-hour walk together.

It was a beautiful example of a Greek concept called philotimo, which basically translates to “love of honour”. It’s part of their ethos and whenever I’m in Greece, it plays out. If I’m about to tread in a puddle, five people will reach out to steer me away.

They just seem to get a kick out of helping strangers and showing generosity. It defines my love of Greece and is why

I go back again and again.