Real Life the picture that means so much
When Raynor Winn and her husband lost everything they owned, they came up with a very unusual idea
Hair whipped into knots by the wind, the coastline stretching out to the horizon, I spread my arms wide in a pose of celebration.
To any passer-by, my husband Moth, and I were on an adventure – wild camping on the Cornish Coastal Footpath. ‘How do you have the time to do it?’ people would ask as we sat having a cup of tea in a cafe, resting our legs.
‘We sold up, decided to go for it,’ we’d reply. I couldn’t bear to tell them that actually, our trip wasn’t about grabbing life with both hands.
Just months before, we’d been made homeless. But, somehow – despite all the heartbreak – in the end it was the best thing to ever happen to us. We’d lost everything after an investment in a friend’s company went awry and, in June 2013, I stood in court, horrified, as the judge told us that we’d lost our case, and couldn’t appeal.
from bad to worse
Our home – a Welsh farmhouse, which doubled as a holiday-letting business – would be seized. Our children, Tom, then 23, and Rowan, 22, were at university, living in a shared house, so we knew they’d be OK, but Moth and I had one week before the bailiffs would arrive. We were still coming to terms with the news when, just three days later, Moth was diagnosed with a terminal illness, called corticobasal degeneration, or CBD.
‘It’s caused by brain cells being damaged over time, causing muscle stiffness, dementia, and speech problems,’ explained the doctor. ‘There’s no treatment or cure, but physiotherapy might help a little.’
Moth had been suffering from pain in his shoulder for years, but recently there had been a numbness in his arms, hands and face. We were distraught. We had already lost our home, and now this?
Friends offered to let us stay with them, but it wasn’t a permanent solution, and we could hardly stay with the children at university. The council couldn’t help and we didn’t have enough money to rent.
It felt so unfair. We’d worked hard all our lives, we didn’t deserve this.
As we cleared out our home and put our belongings in boxes for storage I spotted a book under the stairs about walking the Cornish Coastal Footpath. Suddenly an idea started to form – we’d both been feeling so lost, we needed some direction in life.
‘We should walk the path,’ I said to Moth.
We knew, at 50 and with Moth’s condition, it would be hard, but three days later, as we watched as the bailiffs arrive and changed the locks to the house where we’d lived for 20 years, started our business and raised our family, I was more determined that ever.
We slept on friends’ sofas for just over a month then, in August 2013, we set off, with just a small tent, lightweight sleeping bags and a few clothes. Travelling down from our hometown in Wales, we
‘we’d been feeling so lost’
walked slowly at first, Moth was exhausted and his body ached constantly, but slowly we adjusted to our new routine.
The children would call every day and at night we’d pitch our tent on beaches or in fields. Dinner would be noodles and, on the rare occasion we stayed at a campsite, I’d stand under the hot water in the shower for what felt like hours.
Great adventure
We met so many people on the way, but I couldn’t face telling them that we were homeless, so instead we said we were on the adventure of a lifetime. And, as we began to walk further along the coast, covering the hundreds of miles of the path, that’s what it felt like.
And then something amazing happened. Moth started to feel better. One night, as the tide came in unexpectantly and we had to grab our pitched tent at the last minute, I realised that Moth was running. He hadn’t been able to do that in years.
‘Perhaps the walking is like extreme physio,’ he said. In that moment I realised I didn’t mind we were homeless. Moth feeling better, even just a little bit, was worth losing everything for. And that’s what I was thinking as I posed for that photo, arms spread wide.
We’d been walking for two months when a friend offered us somewhere to stay in return for renovating her shed. We did other odd jobs too, saving cash along the way.
The next April we returned to the coastal path to finish off what we’d started. Just two days before we finished the walk we met a woman in a cafe. By now, I’d realised there was nothing to be ashamed of, so we told her the truth about our story.
‘I have a place you can stay in,’ she told us. I stared at her, not really believing what she had said. But she was serious, she owned a holiday home and was happy for us to rent it.
We were both so happy. And two days later, as we finished the walk and settled into our new home, we couldn’t believe how far we had come.
Then in September 2016, I began to write about our experience. In five months, I had the draft of a book, a memoir about our walk. I didn’t show anyone and, instead, ended up writing an article for The Big Issue.
Soon afterwards, I emailed some agents and within a week, incredibly, I’d signed a book deal. Soon, it was on The Sunday Times bestseller list.
Now, five years on from the day we set off on that walk, we live in Cornwall – in the same house that we moved into when we finished the walk – and the coastal path passes our front door.
Getting back on track
Moth is still unwell, but we walk every day and it helps so much. He’s even doing a degree hoping to retrain as a teacher.
We’d love to do some more walks, perhaps even the Arctic Circle trail. But for now, we’re just enjoying the summer sun, knowing that life is back on track – for good. ✱ The Salt Path by Raynor winn is out now (£14.99, Penguin). Follow Raynor on Twitter @raynor_winn
‘Nothing to be ashamed of’