3. Raynor Winn, The Salt Path (2018) (3/18/25)
I'm not sure how I heard about this book—maybe in an article about books being made into movies, since this one is about to be released as such (end of April in the UK), starring Gillian Anderson. Maybe in an article about long-distance walking? As I say, I don't know, but I'm glad I did.
It's the true story of a couple, Ray and Moth Winn, 50 and 53, who, in 2013, through a series of unfortunate events, lose their home—a farm in Wales; and then, the same week they are compelled to move everything out, Moth is diagnosed with corticobasal degeneration (CBD), signaling ongoing deterioration and, normally, only so long to live. Virtually penniless—they believe they can count on a bank deposit of £48 every week, but as the story goes on it seems they're lucky to see that much in a month—they cast about for options. Hoping against hope for affordable council housing is one possibility, but then what? Or: they can start walking, heading out on the 260-mile South West Path of England, which hugs the coast from Somerset, through Cornwall and Devon, to Dorset.
They buy packs and stuff them full of what they think they might need, including the one and only guidebook of the path,
and set off. And so this book takes off too, detailing an array of stunning geography, encounters with locals and with fellow walkers, and hardships galore. They struggle to find proper flat spaces to camp on; they are very often hungry, subsisting on noodles and tea; they must battle the elements, whether extreme heat or lashing rain. And there's Moth's illness to contend with, which sometimes flares up, but for the most part the walk, the exercise, the fresh air, the effort, seem to do him good. They are heading into the unknown—they don't even know how far they'll go, maybe Land's End, maybe farther—but they're together and they're alive, and that's enough, even if they are homeless.
The fact that they are, in fact, homeless, and not by choice—they didn't just up and sell everything, bank the proceeds, and set off on a lark—lends weight to this account. They have nothing, and the future is uncertain—not just where they will end up, what they will do for income, but Moth's fate, and so Ray's as well. They must live in the moment, with inventiveness and resilience.
Considering how tedious a simple "we walked the South West Path" tale could be, the adversity this couple faced adds a lot to the stew. And some rhythm is added by the fact that they break off partway along the trail (well along, actually) to go live for the winter in a small cottage provided by a friend, then resume the path from the opposite direction—and only after Moth has decided to return to university to study to become a teacher. Now they have an actual goal.
I thought the book could have been pared back some in the first 180 pages (by chapter 16 I was rather weary of the path), but chapters 17–20 move along at a brisk pace and I was re-enthralled. Even the three rather exquisite coincidences in the final few pages seemed somehow perfect. So much magic happened over their several months on the path. Can't we just believe?
(And apparently Moth is still with us. They've settled in Cornwall, where Ray continues to write and advocate for the homeless.)