When I walked the Via Francigena, I did not talk to a single fellow walker until I talked to Russ around the tenth day of my walk. Not on the South West Coast Path. Almost every hour I’m saying hello, chatting about the weather, “oohing and aahing” about the view. I’m not having some conversations. I’m not commiserating with another walker about the rain, about the cold, about the wind while sitting warmly at the pub or at the BnB.

Like other walkers, most of us love the interaction with other walkers. Amidst our conversations, not only have I frequently asked my fellow path walkers two questions, but also, I’ve found two topics that repeatedly emerge. The two questions are “what do you find on the Path and what frustrates you on the path?” The two topics are “what do you think of Raynoor Winn’s The Salt Path and what has happened to the USA?” I’ll save the last two topics for another post, maybe.

In a Wembury BnB, I meet 68-year-old Christian, not John Bunyan’s Christian of Pilgrim’s Progress. We will share breakfast only this one time because he is walking the other direction for a week. When asked about what he finds, he pauses: “Good exercise. Beauty all around me. Peace between the ears.” I loved his response; his response is repeated by other walkers during the days ahead.

Two days later while walking the section before and after Salcombe, I meet David from Aberdeen. Initially I meet him because we are staying at the same BnBs; then, I meet Brian his walking partner from Leicester. Like so many fortunate hikers living in Great Britain, he can walk the path more frequently because of the path’s relative proximity. This walk is the third or fourth walk on the path. As I ask him what frustrates him on the Path, he answers quickly. “Plymouth!” As I had also walked through Plymouth four or five days earlier, I asked him “Why?” “The noise. The people. That Saturday, Plymouth had an important soccer match. So many people drinking. So many people shouting. I had to get back to the quiet of the path.” I’m nodding my head in agreement. On that Saturday, as I was leaving Plymouth to catch the Mount Battan ferry, I walked past pubs at 9:30 AM where groups of young fellows were already gathering to drink a few beers before heading to the game.

While walking that day, I meet Nick. Probably 6’4” with a slender, muscular physique, Nick greets me with a big, warm smile. While stopping to allow several other walkers to pass through a narrow part of the path overlooking the sea, we chat. Even though formed as a question, he exclaims “How do you like this view?!” Sensing that he could understand sarcasm, I say “Oh, I don’t know; I guess that it is okay.” He laughs. “What do you like about the Path?” He responds: “Unlike at home and at work, I can think about myself as much as I want!” Smiling, he continues: “I love all the interaction with the other walkers.” With that, he bounds off, a good twenty yards down the path before I put my daypack back on and grab my walking poles. In my journal, I wrote “A fun fellow. I’d sure like to talk with him some more!”

Several days later I meet my first of two pairs of young, Dutch women campers and hikers. Stopping at the top of a cliff, we both take a needed break. One says: “Isn’t this wonderful?” “I’m so grateful for this. I have all that I need, really just the simple things.” The other jumps in and says “Even though my middle toe is numb because my boot is too tight, I am so grateful for all of this (as she points to the coastline in front of us).” Young exuberance able to handle any difficulty and be grateful!

Walking toward Exmouth, I meet Paul. He is a fit middle-age man walking from Minehead (the beginning point of the SWCP) to Poole (the ending point). He’s walked for five weeks. In the midst of walking together for probably an hour or two, I ask him my questions. His answer differs. “My walk brings me feelings of wonderful nostalgia. As a kid, I grew up on the coast. I haven’t really been back for years. This walk has brought back all sorts of pleasant memories!” “What frustrates you?” Like David earlier, Paul says “Hitting the cities. Too much noise. Too much traffic.” “And, I don’t like when large groups walk the path. Yesterday, a group of nine took over the whole path. I simply waited for them to pass.” We parted as we left a ferry. I’m off to my BnB; he is off to walk another four miles before finding a level camping site.

A week later, I meet Rip and Liz. “Call me Rip, but it is too long a story to tell you why I have that name.” Rip and Liz are retired Boeing employees. While they lived in Seattle for years, they retired to Arizona. They are my type of walker. Nothing too prove. “No need to race.” Enjoying their time walking and not-walking. They spent five days in the beautiful, charming town of Lyme Regis, the home of Mary Anning. “We love just taking in the walk and the places that we visit.” Rip has one of those dry senses of humor. While enjoying breakfast at Wendy’s BnB, in a room filled with drawings and photographs of every sort of animal and old-fashion porcelain dolls, Rip remarks; “Is that a werewolf looking at us?” Then, after noticing the fifteen dolls, he says: “I think Wendy is playing music from the Exorcist.” Liz is English with all sorts of interesting expressions. Later she says, “we sure have walked past a lot of crumblies.” “What?” Rip jumps in, “Oh, that is one of Lizzisms. I made a list for co-workers of the translation of some of Liz’s expressions.” Liz explains “Crumblies, older folks.”

My last vision of Rip and Liz is at Lullworth Cove. In order to avoid walking inland for numerous miles, I’m boarding a bus to take me to Isle of Portland to walk the coastline. There are Rip and Liz trying to catch my attention from a walkway fifty yards away, waving their arms saying goodbye. What a wonderful image to remember!

Finally, I get to talk with Rachel and Neil. Earlier on the path, Rachel had greeted me. I also had taken a photo of them from one of the hillside cliffs looking toward Durdle Door. After sitting down for breakfast at the Castle Inn, I walk over to them. “Here is a photo of the two of you if you want it.” After sharing the photo, we talk and talk and talk. All three of us seem to love this early breakfast time together. After all sorts of topics from walking the Portuguese Camino and the Via Francigena, to the popularity of English walking their own beautiful trails, to the changes and difficulties of some people who live on or alongside the path, I ask them” “What do you find in walking?” Rachel quickly responds: “Peace, prayer, and God.” Whoa! “I don’t mean to be rude, but you are the first person who has answered that question using the word ‘God’.” Rachel responds: “Well, we British are quite secularized. I met a young German though who was dissatisfied with his life. While walking, he wanted to sort through his purpose. Should he stay with his job? Should he seek for something more? I think the path allows people to find a place to try to answer those big questions of life. For me, that allows connections with God.” As we continue, she says: “I love that walking the path allows for the forming of community along the way.” What a beautiful expression which captures a key part of what people find along the way. There is a wonderful gift of others’ sharing their lives, a simple gift of others’ sharing their concerns, their dreams, their convictions.

As it turns out, Rachel and Neil are an exclamation point to the many conversations with other walkers. Despite frustrations, my fellow walkers have so many “finds” along the path. Oh, and concerning Rachel and Neil. Rachel is also a Methodist minister, how coincidental, how providential, how much a blessing to have such a wonderful conversation near the end of the path!