The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
I lost my ability to walk, then my husband, but travel saved me
For Debbie North, 61, an adventure to the Isle of Arran helped her start living again
This time last year, I was enjoying a fresh start, thinking 2021 would be the year we finally said goodbye to a period that floored the country. I was wrong: by the end of June, the bottom had fallen out of my world.
My husband, Andy, a fit and healthy man who loved hill walking, began to feel unwell, struggling with a pain that we innocently thought was nothing more than a frozen shoulder. After a number of tests, we found ourselves in a small consultancy room no bigger than a broom cupboard in a Carlisle hospital. “This isn’t easy for me to tell you,” the consultant said. “You have an aggressive form of cancer... and it is terminal. Go home, write your will and live your life.”
That was it – the news no one wants. We were speechless. From that day Andy’s health went downhill rapidly. But even with the diagnosis that he had only weeks to live, he was determined to fight for life to the very end – and to fight for my life beyond his death.
In 2008, aged 47, I was diagnosed with spinal degeneration and became a wheelchair user. It was only with Andy’s support that I eventually returned to the hills I loved – wheeling where others walked. Since then, I’ve been campaigning for a more accessible countryside in Britain for all.
During his last few weeks, Andy and I created a list of all the things we wanted to do – all the places we wanted to go. It was strangely cathartic. The last thing he said to me was that no matter what happened, I was to continue to have adventures and forge ahead in my goals. I promised I would, but felt uncertain of how I would do it alone.
On June 29 2021, Andy passed away in my arms. My life was upside down; I was broken. The idea of future adventures seemed impossible. How could I go on? How could I complete our list of adventures without my soulmate, my friend?
One day, I could ignore my promise no longer. “This girl will travel,” I decided. The time for grief was over and the time for adventure had come.
But fear of the unknown, anxiety at being alone and a sense of self-doubt gnawed away inside me. So I started small and bought myself a motorhome. My first adventure was a mini one – a night in County Durham. It was a bizarre experience: I thought I had booked myself into a campsite, but it turned out to be no more than a farmer’s field – and no one else was there.
As the sky turned dark, my nerves
kicked it. What the hell was I doing, sitting in a tin can in the middle of nowhere? I locked the doors, had a whisky, nursed the bread knife (in case of intruders) and tried to sleep. When I finally nodded off, it was a huge relief. I felt like I had been wrapped in a cocoon – I slept better than I do at home. And I had started to fulfil my promise to Andy.
Having successfully faced my fears of a solo trip, I decided to head further afield: I was ready for a proper adventure and decided to tick the first one on the list. I was Scotland-bound, specifically to the west coast Isle of Arran – a place I had always wanted to visit.
I booked the ferry and a campsite, but to keep a lid on the anxiety, I swore that I wouldn’t put any pressure on myself to go. Even on the morning of departure, I was unsure whether I would make it out the front door. I decided to take it in stages: if I made it to the ferry port at Ardrossan and didn’t want to sail across to Arran, then I would turn and head back home. But I didn’t give in to the anxiety and as the ferry departed, my shoulders began to drop and I slowly started to relax.
It was dark by the time I arrived at the campsite at Lochranza, but I’d let the warden know about my situation and even though the reception office had officially closed for the night, he waited up for me. He showed me to my pitch, which was close to the facilities, connected the electric hook up to the camper and even filled my water container for me. Within minutes I was all set up and preparing something to eat.
Though the sky was dark, I could just make out the silhouette of the mountains before me. The campsite was silent but for the calling of the deer from inside the forest. I knew in my heart coming here had been the right thing to do.