The Way to Mandalay

I was very sceptical about The Salt Path by Raynor Winn when it published last year. I was well into my nature writing reading phase (still going) and once I started paying attention to these books, I couldn't help noticing just how big a trend it really was. That's pretty much when this book published, and for some reason - too sad? Too on-trend? - I decided not to buy it/into it.

Foolish!

I'll admit that I came across this in my local charity shop (along with a Booker winner and a Pulitzer winner, on the same day!) and some kind of intervention from above inspired me to buy it. And I absolutely loved it, and for all the right reasons, too.

The Salt Path tells the true and very recent tale of a married couple, Ray and Moth, walking the South West Coast Path after losing their family home and Moth being diagnosed with a terminal illness. With nowhere to go and no one to turn to, they pack up the little they have and start putting one foot in front of the other in search of self-discovery, an answer, or just a bit of time, really. So yes, doesn't sound like an easy read.

What did I like about it?

Perhaps I can blame the blurb because, let's face it, I didn't exactly sell it to you just then either. But the book is really the opposite of what we expect: it's a tale of optimism, a journey of self-discovery without the New Age bullsh*t with two very loveable and very real people. It's beautiful because it rings true. Ray doesn't try to make anything sound more dramatic than it already is: she keeps the tone of the book down to Earth, realistic and most of all, honest. Yes, it is at times heart-wrenching, but aren't all the best books?

I love that there is no fake dialogue - there is only little direct speech, because there was very little dialogue, understandably (I wouldn't be very chatty either if I was over 50 and walking one of the UK's hilliest footpaths). Often, it isn't even clear whether something is said by Moth or Ray, and it doesn't matter. We understand that these two people are almost one in their love and devotion to each other; we feel what they feel without saying it. We root for them every time they check their bank balance for that tiny income, and enjoy every bite of their last fudge bar with them as they run out of food in the middle of nowhere.

The book shines a direct light onto homelessness and how circumstances can change in an instant. It talks honestly about this couple's experiences, camping in the wild, being ashamed of admitting to being homeless, and the jealousy and occasional feeling of injustice. But the way Ray and Moth see the world is humbling to us as a reader. They will give away half of their money to help a single, good soul, and share their food with those even less fortunate then them.

Ray's writing certainly deserves a special mention. This is her first book, yet it reads like good literary fiction - it shows that nature writing is at its best when it is honest and doesn't try to be too lyrical. At the opposite end of the scale is, for example, How to Catch a Mole by Marc Hamer, which is an overly flowery first book, infused with poetry. So that's a no. (In a sad kind of ironic way, Hamer also experienced rural homelessness.) Ray narrates as she observes: from large scale to the tiniest butterfly, we follow her eyes as they pan the horizon, filling the landscape with her own feelings. "Green, blue. This coast is rugged, rock stacks standing defiantly against the power of the Atlantic." "An ozone wind rushed over the edge, bringing the creatures' deep, sorrowful calls echoing up through the rocks. Their sadness was surely an illusion, a human interpretation of the animals' noise."

Nature, personal history and our inner feelings become one in this narrative, and as a result, it reads beautifully.

What was I not massively fond of?

I will say that perhaps the last one-sixth of the book becomes a bit too long - the days are a bit repetitive at times with silent walking day after day. Not a long section, however, and when the couple reaches the finish line (in more than one way) it is extremely gratifying.

Overall...

I looked at many things differently after reading this book, and it also helps me through this long, dark period where nature and beloved campsites seem so far away. It makes me want to wrap up in waterproofs, grab my backpack and walk, just walk.

Thank you to Ray and Moth who were brave enough to share their true story with the world. I think it is an act of courage and generosity. We would be fools not to welcome them into our hearts.

8/10