John A. Cherrington

My bucket list is not long-- I'm not ambitious for adventure or experience in the wide world. But when I heard about this book, and the very fact that there are walking trails (sorry-- paths) all over England, I knew that this book, and indeed this adventure, should be on my list. I enjoy getting around on foot, and this just seems like the most idyllic set of walks imaginable. This particular walk, the Macmillan Way, is especially so. Along the way the author and his companion encounter local wildlife (of both the vaguely domesticated animal and human varieties), all manner of weather, historical artifacts innumerable, and seem to achieve an enviable sense of calm and wonder. He says near the end, "Walking along the Macmillan Way, one can almost believe that this rural idyll is the true reality and the M1 is just an aberration." Make no mistake, I'm an urban dweller through and through and I'm devoted to my mod cons, but I grew up on tales of King Arthur and Bilbo and the Shire, and those images are invoked over and over during this narrative. It seems remarkable that this land of which practically every inch (he also notes at some point) has been inhabited sometime in its millennia of history, can still be traversed, for weeks on end, without encountering any significant markers of the modern world more high tech than a phone booth or a beer tap. This is a vivid narrative, lovingly told, and I hope to find myself on that path one day.… (más)

This is an excellent account of a walk by two Canadians on “The Macmillan Way.” The walk begins in Boston. Lincolnshire and ends at Chesil Beach on the English Channel.



It passes through the village of Cherrington where the author, John A. Cherrington’s forebears lived “as early as the Domesday Book of 1086” and Cadbury, the site of the legendary Castle Camelot, reputed to have been the site of King Arthur’s hill fort.



There is a first-class map on the inside covers of the book. (I have previously read similar books where the maps were less than acceptable, and impossible to decipher.)



The Macmillan Way is a 290-mile route. Nowhere else in the world can one walk on footpaths over private land throughout the entire country.



The author, John, was fifty-four and not a skilled walker, whilst his walking partner, Karl, was seventy-four years old and “could keep walking pace with most Olympic athletes”.



Karl always charged ahead, even with two twisted ankles, so John had to trail after him.



Their goal was to cover twelve to fourteen miles a day.



The author has a good grasp of English history, and/or has done considerable research into the history of the area traversed; we’re often informed of events that date back to the 13th century or before, and also of relevant contemporary events of interest, such as Madonna’s fight against the planned opening of walking paths on her huge country estate.



The two overnight in B&Bs (Bed & Breakfasts), booked ahead. Often the landlady is somewhat stringent, or worse, and in one case she’s a madam, in that the B&B doubled as a brothel,



Often, after having been caught in a rainstorm, they were totally drenched and in need of a hot bath and the heat being turned on,but these privileges generally had to be fought for and paid extra for.



After their evening meal they enjoy a drink or two (a double Scotch for Karl and half a pint of lager for John); Karl in particular was always focused on these pub visits; though on one occasion there was no local pub.



Once they had to climb over an electric fence and several times, as far as I recall, they had to avoid potentially harmful bulls, in fact Karl got butted by one but lived to tell the tale (not all do).



Bulls are apparently aggressive in the mating season when no cows are at hand.



They pass the village of Greatford where in 1788 King George III was “cured” of his madness. However, after three relapses he remains completely mad.



They are close to Fotheringhay, where Mary, Queen of Scots, was imprisoned and tried before being beheaded on February 8, 1857. The main staircase of a certain hotel is the very one Mary descended at Fotheringhay Castle on the way to her death; her ghost is still seen retracing those final steps.



To sum up, I found the book immensely readable, entertaining and vastly informative as regards the history of the area. I highly recommend it. As well as historical and current information, the book contains multiple literary references; one of the author’s favourite books is apparently Kenneth Grahame’s “The Wind in the Willows”.… (más)