Category: Switzerland
A year with much city hopping around Ireland, Switzerland and elsewhere
3rd November 2025 While you can plan as much as you like, a year never turns out quite as you hope. For me, that has been the story of 2025. A hoped for trip to Canada could not happen, necessitating a booking cancellation. The need to get more freelance work in a tough market simply weighed on everything else. Having addressed that need, it is only now that I can begin to look ahead again, even though a busy work life takes from that a bit.
This also got in the way of wilderness wandering, which meant my getaways involved cities most of the time, even if adjacent countryside also saw my footfall there. Also, booking a place to stay forces you to get going more than dangling the prospect of a day trip before you in circumstances like what I have experienced this year. That more likely made my excursions urban than they otherwise might have been.
Cork Residencies
January began in Cork, Ireland’s second city because of my spending Christmas there in somewhere that I have as an Irish base. My search for freelance work had begun without my realising the arduous road ahead of me. Otherwise, it was time to haul myself outside around such places as Blarney and Kinsale when a certain torpor could prevail otherwise. Before I left for the UK in the middle of January, a property matter was set in place that would close later in the year.
April would see me return, first for a weekend visit, searching for items that I needed to send to someone else and recovering after another discussion about new work came to nothing. The recovery was helpful, while the search remained fruitless in the interval before I returned for an Easter residency that allowed me to visit Cobh and Kinsale again, among other things. Then, my time was spent away from other city landmarks like its English Market, the north side’s Shandon area, University College Cork, Mardyke or Fitzgerald’s Park. Other things were on my mind.
A funeral was the cause of my returning at the end of July. Apart from saying goodbye to an elderly relative, things were otherwise upbeat thanks to my commencing a new contract and getting out in the sunshine for some pleasant walks around by Blackrock Castle and Cobh on consecutive evenings; this is an area that is much influenced by its harbour and estuary. However, it felt too short a rendezvous, ensuring that a return is in mind as soon as a space comes up for such a venture.
Swiss Getaways
May brought a near miss with getting work organised and that left me feeling morose. Having felt on the fringes for too long, a conference trip to Geneva came not before time, even if it may have scuppered that earlier opportunity. These just in time searches are very fragile things, as I was to discover in June, albeit without any real consequences that time aide from feeling saddened at having to choose something else.
Sunlit evenings in Geneva ensured that I became sated with what the city offered, along with some complementary weekend sampling along Via Jacobi from Coppet back to Geneva. Landmarks familiar from a stay in September 2015 like Jet d’Eau, the banks of the Rhône and Lake Geneva were again frequented, while the cobbled streets of the old town climb to the Cathédrale St-Pierre offered new perspectives. Later that week, a certain amount of repetition aroused a need for novelty that propelled me to Bern for a glorious evening of strolling that did me a lot of good as I traipsed its loop of the River Aare, another first since September 2015.
Other prospects like Zurich and Lucerne appealed during my time in Geneva, until I saw the travel times were longer than I fancied. They offered a platform for a bank holiday getaway before which things began to look up for me a little. Lucerne was where I spent the better day of the trip, leaving Zurich to be explored in mixed weather. That limited photographic activity, yet it did not stop me embarking on a return sailing on Zurichsee that got me as far as Rapperswil, where I spent a good deal of time strolling around there and Pfäffikon under seemingly improving skies.
Since Zurich left an itch to scratch, a return ensued as May ended and June began. Hot sunshine was the enduring weather challenge this time around, even if it did little to stop me strolling along the shores of Zurichsee after following the banks of the Limmat or even along the banks of the River Rhine in Basel with that striking proximity to France and Germany.
Additional evening ambling around Zurich after returning from the latter led me into that city's nearby woods. There, I found an abundance of quietude that was healing, a refuge from the pervading uncertainty in my life. It was much needed and would have reached deeper into my psyche if my work life had been going better. It was quite a counterpoint to all activity around each city's Münster.
Passage through Paris was an element in all this journeying too, albeit far more briefly than during my travels in 2024. The first time was as part of a train journey conveying me all the way from Geneva to Macclesfield, while the second would have been the Zurich equivalent except for its expense. Then, it was Paris Charles de Gaul airport that was my exit point from continental Europe, a much quicker journey, albeit not one that was without its occasions for relaxation either.
British Trials, Solace and Celebration
While the Irish and Swiss segments of this piece have a certain chronology to them, even with Irish trips bookending the Swiss ones, the British portion does a spot of time hopping around each of them. First, there was the January return to the UK, after which I attended to numerous other matters that lay outstanding, possibly affecting my search for new freelancing work.
When meetings with a potential client came to nothing, I decided to break things up with weekend trips to Edinburgh and London. These mixed up revisiting old haunts with seeing new places while I rebooted my search for work. It was going to be out in the sunshine rather than being downbeat at home. My work strategy was getting a shake up too, which set the scene for coming months. Success would take time to come, meaning that there would be another trip to London early in June to attend a conference before everything came together.
Yet Another Scottish Incursion
When it did, there was cause to celebrate, albeit quietly. Before commencing a new contract, I headed north to Inverness, ticking off one last item from my excursion list for my time between contracts. It was in my head for the autumn of 2024 and might have happened if I could lure myself away from Ireland for longer during that September.
The ideas were rural in the main: Fionn Bheinn near Achnacarry, the Great Glen Way between Drumnadrochit and Inverness and the South Loch Ness Trail from Foyers or Dores back to Inverness. In the end, I opted for the first two, partly because of having better public transport options.
Even so, there was an evening spent in the highland city itself, pottering around the Ness Islands and passing Inverness Castle. On the trail back from Drumnadrochit, I briefly encountered the Caledonian Canal, though I did not spend as much time along its towpaths as on a previous visit as 2023 transitioned into 2024.
Eastern Quests
Norfolk, Suffolk and Cambridgeshire drew me away from home in July at a time when going east meant gaining cooler weather. This again was a mix of urban and rural, with much traipsing by the orienting River Wensum as well as a visit to Whitlingham Country Park. The medieval sights were surveyed too, especially around its cathedral close and its quiet green space within the city. There was time to traipse between Brandon and Thetford, shadowing the Little Ouse and passing through The Brecks under ever clouding skies. Those dented my brief visit to Ely and denied me photographic satisfaction there, ensuring a reprise two months later.
Though Ely was my target, I stayed in Cambridge because of its better accommodation options. A short train journey was all it took for me to see Ely's cathedral on a sunnier day, its unusual lantern tower drew a share of my attention before I pottered out of the city while skies broke over my head. Some rural ambling shadowing the Great Ouse showed me just how much of a landmark those cathedral towers make when viewed from the level, drained ground around the city. A return to its heart sated my photographic desires before another stroll by the river took me back to the train station under again clouding skies. Time had been called on my visit without causing any umbrage in my mind.
There was time to revisit Cambridge, too, to see and photograph different sights before I left for home. Advancing cloud cover again spurred me on to the train station after a sunny morning of ambling around the Backs, among other places. Different places were open compared with a previous encounter from years before. The River Cam was busy with punts and I left them to their way. Pembroke College saw me tarrying a while before I continued on a journey that was ending a sequence of summer jaunts, mainly urban but at times rural too.
A Southwestern Incursion
There was some time hopping above too: the two eastern excursions encapsulated a first trip to Devon and Cornwall. Again, cities pervaded with time spent around Exeter and Plymouth. Penzance became the Cornwall terminus for my rambling, allowing me to see the county's scenery from a passing train. While Exeter's cathedral and its surroundings clearly were a draw, they did not keep me away from the Riverside Valley Park, bounded both by the River Exe and the Exeter Canal. Exmouth was another location that lure, causing me to wander the coast a little too much for my own comfort given the advancing end of the hours of daylight. Nevertheless, this dalliance with the South West Coast Path did not result in ruin either, and Penzance became another, though my previous adventuring had tamed designs on an out and back trot to St. Michael's Mount. Thus, I made it home without any misstep.
Looking Ahead and Looking Back
There are upcoming business trips to Germany ahead of me, so the city hopping is not over for this year. Mainz is to be the location for a client meeting, with Frankfurt's airport proving essential for convenient travel. Because of the nature of the trip and the time of year, exploring will be at a premium, though. This also would be my first-ever overnight stay in Germany, only for the second likely to soon follow it: a conference trip to Hamburg. There, my time will be more my own, so more may come of it, though uncertainty pervades those possibilities.
A return to Cork for a longer spell is in my mind too, even if one cannot hope for too much when the hours of darkness are longer; an Easter stay would be better on that score. Beyond that, another conference could draw me to Italy for the first time. The venue is Milan in a time when hours of daylight are more amenable to personal city explorations. Since this is quite a time away yet, plans are not at all firm at this stage.
On reflection, there was a lot of temporal toing and froing in the above, unlike any rivers that flowed in only one direction. That was the sacrifice caused by focussing on locations to provide a thread holding together the whole account. Returning to the hydrological theme, it may have made the account tidal in places.
Another theme was what eventually became a successful search for freelance work, one whose busyness perhaps keeps me away from gallivanting as much the technological novelties that are coming my way. Reading is happening in parallel and something may stick there too, even if it feels far too premature to be considering summer holidaying plans. Last year's hubris does sit so well now.
Between the rush and the ramble: Swiss cities, Scottish hills and life’s rhythms
28th June 2025 Much has happened since I last posted something on here. After an extended and frustrating period, I am embarking on a freelance assignment with a new client. This came unexpectedly while I was pursing a search for permanent employment. It also turns out that things may be improving on the freelance market, given what I am starting to see elsewhere. Those other opportunities can go to others; when you choose one for yourself, you are implicitly rejecting all everything and everyone else, as a Capuchin priest preached on marriage on a Sunday morning near the end of last year. Sometimes, wisdom can be portable from one context to another.
From Geneva's Via Jacobi to Zurich's Hidden Woodlands
Bookending the above frenzy were trips away from home, first to a conference and then for leisure. The former took me to Geneva, where I got to explore the place in parallel. A Saturday arrival allowed for a Sunday saunter from Coppet back to Geneva that followed the Via Jacobi for much of the way, albeit with some deviations south of Versoix and near Geneva's Botanic Gardens. After getting sated by other strolling around the city, I embarked on an evening visit to Bern on the Friday before I returned to the UK, going by rail all the way home for the sake of added variety.
Zurich also got two visits. The first saw me go to Lucerne on arrival to make the best of the better day of the weekend with some lakeside strolling before venturing into a shady woodland with some ascent involved as I turned back towards the city centre again. A boat trip around Zurichsee made a lot of the mixed weather that came my way the next day, especially during an amble from Rapperswil to nearby Pfäffikon under breaking skies before returning by train. Some city strolling around Zurich followed the passing of a rain shower to round off the trip ahead of a return flight the next day.
The lack of sunny weather around Zurich drew me back later, even if temperatures were higher than what suits me. After following up a work opportunity, I caught up with the place on a sunny if sweltering evening to make some better photos. The next day, I went to Basel to potter through its Altstadt on a circuit taking in the banks of the River Rhine. That was completed in sufficient time to allow more wandering around Zurich after attending to a matter. More photos were made before my rambling among extensive woodland adjoining the city. That had me passing the city's zoo while remarking at the peace that surrounded me in the late evening, a counterpoint to what else was happening in my life.
An Ascent of Fionn Bheinn and a Section of the Great Glen Way
The action that resulted in the new freelance contract happened after all this and to celebrate the success, I made use of a trip idea that was thwarted by a previous frenzy of similar activity. Thus, I went north to Inverness when some sunny weather was on offer. After a late arrival caused by a tardy start, I went on a day trip to Achnasheen to make an ascent of Fionn Bheinn and take whatever views that gained me. An octogenarian was going the same way, but I decided to pass him and hike my own hike in the hope that the gradient would cause him to opt for a short stroll.
The route has a reputation for being boggy, and even a year with a lot of dry weather did not mean my avoiding soggy ground. That made the going more challenging on the initial stage of the ascent before gradients slackened for a while. It was only near the top that I met with better ground. By then, the views really opened out around me, as they had been doing while I gained height. Heat haze curtailed photographic hopes, albeit without taking from any scenic delights. For my descent, I went down by Sàil an Tuim Bhàin and Achnasheen Plantation to return to Achnasheen where I would have a lengthy wait for my train.
It was around five minutes before that arrived that my elderly counterpart arrived after reaching the top, further irking my conscience about having passed him on the way, even if I did need my own quiet time. The American was talkative, and I grabbed a step for getting him onto the train from the low platform, watching that he was OK after his extraordinary exertions. He seemingly ventured further up the carriage, apparently meeting some acquaintances. That was where our encounter ended.
Though myself wearied by my own actions around Fionn Bheinn, I stuck with my plan to follow the Great Glen Way from Drumnadrochit back to Inverness. The day started cloudy, and I contented myself with that as I departed from Drumnadrochit. Nevertheless, cloud cover began to break as I climbed up from the A82. Until the late afternoon, sunshine was to come and go. Before that, I deviated around by Carn na Leitire and relished some quiet road walking in advance of venturing onto trails again.
Then, I got word of some property that I had lost without my realising it and arranged a meet up with the finders to get it back before leaving Inverness for home. The kindness of others never fails to surprise me, leaving me to wonder at my own helpfulness or my perceived lack of it. A friendly chat ensued with passing fellow walkers after those phone calls; they were local and shared with me some knowledge about drove roads before we parted. They also said about travel being downhill from where we were, and they were not at all wrong about that. Being back in Inverness at an appropriate hour meant that I could attend to yet another matter before resting a while in advance of some gentler river bank wandering on a balmy summer's evening. It attempted to belie the forecast of rain for the next day, a failed ruse if ever there was one.
On being reunited with my lost property, I caught the next train to Edinburgh. Travelling meant that I was indoors from any rain. Even a delay due to overrunning engineering works around Pitlochry failed to scupper my progress, despite it meaning that a later departure from Edinburgh was my lot. The mixture of satisfaction and being humbled by the actions of others brought no cause for complaint.
In Reflection
For me, these recent months have been a reminder that life rarely unfolds as we expect it; we never know enough to plan everything; that is an ongoing life lesson for me. Here are some prompts: a freelance opportunity that emerged after a long wait, the kindness of strangers who returned lost property and chance encounters on hill country paths. Then, you can get a contrast between the frenetic pace of a search for work and the measured rhythm of walking at the same time as a juxtaposition of paths trampled and life experienced: sometimes boggy and challenging underfoot, otherwise offering clearer paths and broader views. It all exhibits how mysterious we are and how life is likewise.
There has been much closure to complement all of this mix of parallels and contrasts, too. There may be the prospect of following the South Loch Ness Trail, but that can wait for a weekday when bus times work better for such a venture. Having considered possibilities while I was up north, I am decided on that awaiting another time. With so much satisfaction otherwise gained, there can be no cause for complaint. Other things matter now as life proceeds into a new chapter.
Frantic: When life’s vicissitudes collide with getting away for a long weekend
3rd May 2025 The past week has been hectic for me, hence the title. However, the result of my exertions was an offer for my freelance services that clashed with another opportunity that came to nothing. The offer was accepted despite warnings that it could be rescinded. The coming week will show whether that was a bluff or not.
All this was happening during the first real sign of heat that we experienced this year; the hot, sunny weather was a foretaste of summer. There were local strolls in the midst of the frenzy, a necessity for keeping my mind in order throughout all of it. My mind even turned to a Scottish incursion centred on Inverness that would have allowed a visit to Fionn Bheinn near Achnasheen as well as a stroll from Drumnadrochit back to Inverness along part of the Great Glen Way.
However, there was too much happening to allow the getaway to become a reality. A hotel booking was cancelled after learning that the weather was not as enticing as I might have desired during a sequence of simplification. Having the prospects for another time will do no harm, though. Ideas are not so plentiful in my head as I write these words, anyway.
Business is set to return me to Geneva for a conference, which will be handy for getting to see the place again. The initial motivation for all of this was making connections for securing freelance work as well as building up my knowledge. Some of that may be less pressing after the past week, though it will be good to get out among colleagues again. Wandering the city in pleasant sunshine will be a bonus too.
These are times when being a solopreneur can be isolating, especially when trying to source work in a challenging market. Thus, it is just as well that the wonders of nature at springtime offer much needed solace and consolation. While my wanderings may be curtailed this year, any such encounter only spurs desire for deeper incursions. There may be time for those later.
Last hurrahs
29th August 2024 These days, this time of year makes me wistful at the passing of summer. However, it was not always so. This also is the season when academic years start, so there are beginnings as well as endings. Even then, the decline in hours of daylight and dropping temperatures brought any attempts to hang onto a sense of summer to an unyielding halt.
Towards the end of my secondary schooling, the purchase of a new bicycle meant cycling it home. That was not only a sixteen-kilometre distance but a frustrating struggle against autumnal winds. That which was plausible in the summer months had become less easy away from them. There were a few more years of summertime cycling, building up distance with the passage of time, that not only met shortening evenings but also the commencing of studies again. That was broken when I moved to Edinburgh, meaning that my time in Ireland was much more limited.
With the end of my university years, the association of autumn with beginnings was broken. It all ended with a job search that preceded by a tour of the Scottish highlands and islands with my brother before a quick trip to Ireland. In truth, the continuity of a research degree throughout the year had faded the sense of autumnal beginnings anyway.
My career saw me move to England, where I had much more time for exploring than I ever did. Without the ebb and flow of academic life, it was all too tempting to try overlooking the seasons, especially when moving south took up so much of spring and summer. August was when the hills of Cheshire and Derbyshire still any prospects of exploring hill country by bike. Walking became the way forward. As the month ended, I made my first trip to Wales in mixed weather that was hinting that overlooking seasons was not an option.
In ensuing years, the range of experiences broadened. A few saw me returning to Edinburgh in August to note how autumnal the place could feel at that time of year. Academic pressures and lack of experience meant that I had been overlooking this. That even included a week of conference attendance in Aberdeen during my research degree. The sense was there yet not prioritised.
Sometimes, autumn can make amends for a less satisfying summer. Being soaked around Lorn and Lochaber during a week at the end of July was enough to send me north again. Numerous visits to the Lake District in August had not healed wounds that only a weekend visit to Lochaber at the end of August could do. The year after was wet for much of the time, and I moved house too. Thus, a muddy November hike from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to Rushton Spencer marked something of a beginning.
September is a month with its illusions too. There can be a lot of sun, so it is easy to think of endless summer. That certainly fitted a sunny weekend around Moffat, crowned by a stunning walk along the Southern Upland Way. The changing colours and closure of businesses at the end of the busy tourist season countermand this. The latter hit me while on a September visit to Gougane Barra with my parents. Still, autumn can offer its chances for partial continuity with local hikes through October, November and into December. There have been a few years of that too.
Seasons are not the only transitions that we meet in life. A change of employer once became a major career event for me, Before the turmoil that led to this, there were contrasting trips to Yorkshire, one in September and another in October. The first was to a sunny Wharfedale, while an often grey Ingleton became my lot for the second. After the changeover, my energy for walking trips was curtailed, yet there was an October stroll along the High Peak Trail and a November excursion to Church Stretton. Though work pressures grew after that, the wandering was much needed and happened more often than not. When even that was halted, local cycles and walks often provided release.
Family ageing, infirmity and bereavement took hold of a few years after that. Grieving continued through spring, beyond summer and into autumn. Nothing could stop an October hike from the Cat and Fiddle inn to Whaley Bridge, such were my needs at the time. The real end of August feel pervaded a weekend divided between Durham and York. This may have been the Summer Bank Holiday one in England, but it often just feels too late for it. As it happens, the same complaint can be levelled at the timing of the British Spring Bank Holiday weekend.
Feelings eased by the next autumn, though a weekend spent in mixed weather around Oban reflected a sense of political tumult that only got more intense in ensuing years. Eventually, a sense of release emerged to allow a memorable September Swiss escapade. Bern and Kleine Scheidegg were grey under autumn clouds, yet Geneva, Zermatt and Grindelwald continued the sunny theme. Inheritance matters lay ahead, but not before a November interlude around Warwick, Stratford-upon-Avon and Bath.
International travel was getting going for me, and dotted the year for a few weeks. An end-of-August trip to sunny Oslo and rainy Bergen bookended the summer the year after the Swiss trip. Inheritance matters were coming to a head to show that office work need not note the passing of seasons, unlike outdoor activities. They were to cause exhaustion, so a later autumn would see decompression at the start of a much-needed career break. That year, there was continuity of a sort from a week in Sweden in August to October day hikes in the Peak District and South Pennines.
Before the pandemic years, my freelancing faced an autumnal challenge that got addressed before the onset of restrictions. In September, there were visits to Oxford and Bath following a summer in British Columbia. The autumnal atmosphere of those, even if people were dressed in period costume around Bath for an event, reflected my mood at the time, for more things were ending than starting in that year.
The pandemic did nothing to halt hiking and, in 2020, even caused a resurgence of cycling. Getting outdoors then was much needed, resulting in a surprisingly rich year of day trips. That more or less ended at the end of September on a day that turned from sunny to grey as I walked from Hayfield to Chapel en le Frith. In the subsequent twelve months, things became less restricted, perhaps too quickly for my sensibilities. That made the discovery of Combs Moss near Buxton an uncrowded godsend during August and September that year. More were to be found when a new variant brought more restrictions around the end of the year.
Since then, the last few years have been about changing what I own. Some is being sold, and I now have a base in Cork that I can use. Manageability is what I am trying to improve now. More time has been spent in the outdoors as well, especially in Ireland. When it comes to the ending of summer, that does not feature so much, though. In the year before last, August was ended with a sunny ascent of Helvellyn followed by less satisfying trips to the Ochil Hills and Trossachs, extending activities into September.
Last year, a longstanding personal matter got attention and progress has felt rather miraculous. That started in August of last year and was got helped by numerous hill walks in Wales in August and September, a trip to Guernsey at the end of August, and a satisfying October encounter with the Ochil Hills from Stirling. While there was a sense of curtailment as the year wore on and other matters intruded, it still is remarkable to note what was happening then in any case.
This year has seen numerous walking trips in various places. Wales, Scotland, France and Ireland all provide the locations. Irish responsibilities continue to be reduced alongside these, and I am looking to progress other work activities as well. Autumn this year is about looking forward more than looking back during a period of letting go of things.
Autumn can feel quiet, yet it is often busy. Places can feel less thronged, giving a sense of new beginning that gets thwarted by the increasing sense of approaching winter. Even so, the working lives of many become more busy, as do places of learning. The latter can be filled with hubris that then is vanquished by academic pressures. This is an odd time of year, looking forward with anticipation, but also looking back with poignancy. Maybe, that is what transition brings. Nevertheless, spring is more to my liking and likely will remain thus.
Sharing or sparing?
18th September 2018 Having what is called a bucket list, a list of places that you would like to visit while you can, is common these days but I wonder if such a thing is all that desirable. By the its nature, the problems start when compiling a list of such ideas because chances are that you will select places that already are popular. That applies as much when perusing travel magazines or holiday brochures as it does when using social media.
One consequence of this is that certain locations become too popular for the sake of sustainability and that leads to restrictions that affect the independent traveller. South American destinations like Machu Pichu and Torres del Paine National Park come to mind here but the problem is spread around the world. Scotland's Isle of Skye has experienced problems that never made the news before and you only have to see how many visit well promoted attractions like the Cliffs of Moher to see how many people visit a small number of locations in Ireland at a time during the high season.
This then poses something of a dilemma: do you cater for the visitor numbers or do you restrict them? With wilderness and conservation areas, there is a tendency to do the latter though it does have the consequence of pushing up visitor costs and that may have its benefits for local tourism businesses as you may find on a trip to places in either the Canadian Rockies or Alaska. When you add in short summer tourism seasons, the effect by necessity is more pronounced.
In other destinations, they add in facilities for the extra visitors with some decrying the effect that this has had on Spain's Mediterranean coastline because of hotel and holiday apartment construction. Parts of the Alps are afflicted like this but in a different way: it is the infrastructure of skiing resorts that hardly help appearances in mountain country during the summer season. Both examples make you wonder at the appropriateness of such developments and they must tug at the heartstrings of anyone who adores mountain and coastal scenery.
Another aspect of any overdevelopment is that you can install something that encourages the otherwise unprepared into wild places without realise the possible dangers that are there. For instance, I seem to have inherited my father's unease at cliff edges and my knowledge of how slippery limestone can be almost made me shout at people to keep back from the edge on a damp day hike around the Cliffs of Moher and Doolin. It is little wonder that staff are equipped with whistles to direct the unaware away from peril.
There is overcaution too and one example is the boardwalk on Cuilcagh Mountain and how incongruous it looks in the landscape through which it conveys people to the top of the hill shared between Cavan and Fermanagh, between Éire and Northern Ireland. It also does not help that it stops short of the top too but the boggy morass deters most. Another location where path development attracted adverse comment was at Sliabh Liag in County Donegal but it might be that some sense prevailed there in the end.
Hillwalking is a growing pastime in Ireland so there remains a lot to learn in a country where there is neither experience nor tradition of path and track building in such places. Thankfully, organisations like Mountain Meitheal and Mountaineering Ireland together with initiatives like Helping the Hills are starting to address this so lessons are learned from places like Scotland and applied to get sensible solutions to the growing problem of erosion on popular hills. It is something that needs attention as much as securing access for hill wandering in the first place.
The mention of countryside access brings me to another factor that causes some places to feel overloaded: a lack of alternatives. It is not everywhere that has the liberal access rights that are enjoyed in Scotland and across Scandinavia so there can be a very really reduction in the number of places where you can explore. The options may not stop you going to those better known places like Norway's Preikestolen before finding other quieter hikes nearby as knowledge grows and maps feel more confiding.
It is this last point that inspires the title and the theme runs through Fiona Reynolds' The Fight for Beauty, a book that I read last autumn. It is not for nothing park rangers in Denali National Park tell you not to walk one after another in a group so a path never develops and that everyone's backcountry journey is their own. When there is plenty of land for all, we can spread out and find our own space to recharge weary spirits. That is easier when we are not retracing the steps of others all the while and it can have a lighter impact on the countryside too with less erosion caused by many feet and much path widening. While it can be true that we get confined by or own lack of knowledge, physical restrictions caused by not having enough other places to go hardly help either. Overcoming both might be the ultimate answer to the visitor management conundrum.
