Ruth Livingstone
My book: Walking the English Coast
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Winfield’s Award
Killer Cows: Cattle Safety
We can’t walk on footpaths as blocked by cattle in Lower Weare Somerset
Incident number: 1216 Response ID: 318,553,250 Date of incident: 23.11.25 Location: Lower Weare, Somerset, the public foot path just by the primary school, 2nd field in, (what 3 words /// lurching.truly.relocated) Status: Single walker with dog on lead on PROW Gino’s story “The first field by the school sometimes has female cows, the next field […]
Trampling Incident involving serious injuries In Dorset. (Near Morden)
Incident number: 1215 Response ID: 318,377,455 Date of incident: 6.11.25 Location: Near Morden, Dorset, (WTW ref is chuckling.pounces.pianists) Status: Between 3 to 5 people with dogs on lead on PROW Michael’s story “We were on the public bridleway that crosses the field onto Wareham heath. Cattle and calves were about 50 meters away and peaceful. […]
A terrifying experience that could have been a lot worse
Incident number: 1213 Response ID: 317,470,880 Date of incident: 26.10.25 Location: Footpath near the town of Eye in Suffolk, a few fields away from the playing field/par Status: Two people with dog on lead on PROW Holly’s story “Footpath we were following passed through a field with cows in. My husband went in first on […]
Category Archives: 05 Kent
48. Lydd to Rye to Rye Harbour
When I walk in, people stare at me. I wonder if they are looking at my boots, my jaunty little rucksack, or admiring my general air of health and wellbeing. After a very good lemon curd bun, I visit the loo and find out, by looking in the mirror, that my hair is sticking up on end and covered in sand. I look like a wild woman. Continue reading
47. Dungeness to Lydd
Buffeted by wind, and fighting for a foothold on the shingle, I continue onwards – disoriented and uneasy. I have the dangerous firing range on one side. A nuclear power plant on the other. A howling gale blowing behind me. And ahead is a protected nature reserve. Continue reading
Stage 46. Hythe to Lydd-on-Sea
I come across a warning sign.
“Caution non-ionising radiation. Do not loiter within 2 metres of any antenna.” I look back at the mast where I have just spent 10 minutes of ‘loitering’. A bit late to tell me now!
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Stage 45 Dover to Folkestone to Hythe
This is the best day of walking, ever. I start from Dover seafront. Looking out, across the little beach, through the mouth of the harbour, I can see the outline of France. It is clear and close. You could sail across and be there is a few minutes, or so it seems.
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Stage 44. St Margaret’s to Dover
The ‘path’ turns out to consist of footholds in a grassy bank. There is nowhere to rest. The slope is too steep to sit down. I am scrambling on all fours – looking for footholds and hand holds. The steep drop below, and the glimpses of bright sea even further below, add to a vertiginous sense of anxiety. I am reminded of skiing and that black slope moment of terror when you realise that you don’t want to go on, but you know you can’t stop.
Stage 43. Sandwich to Deal to St Margaret’s at Cliffe
This morning is warm and the sky clear, with a low haze. I leave Sandwich and head through a pleasant park, crossing the river and walking along the bank towards Sandwich Marina. Joggers pass me. A couple are out walking … Continue reading
Stage 42. North Foreland, Broadstairs, Ramsgate to Sandwich
It is warm and people are arriving on the promenade, opening up their beach huts and assembling chairs, tables and barbeques. People (this is an odd English custom) are erecting windbreaks – despite the fact there is no wind. I witness a few territorial skirmishes.
Stage 41. Birchington to Margate to North Foreland
Margate on a sizzling hot Good Friday. I am intrigued by the Royal Sea Bathing Hospital and pay a visit the Turner Contemporary. Hamish Fulton says ‘Walking is an art form in its own right, it does not have to be a lesser form of land art.’ Now, that is my kind of artist!
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Stage 40. Whitstable to Herne Bay to Birchington
Perhaps it is hunger, but I begin to have paranoid fancies. I imagine the pub full and no space to sit down. I imagine it has stopped serving food (it is now nearly 3pm). I imagine there are signs saying ‘no boots allowed’.
Stage 39. Faversham to Whitstable
I meet a man who is walking along the narrrow top of the wall, hands outstrectched for balance.
“I think you are forty years too old for that,” I say, smiling.
“I am letting my inner child out,” he replies.
And why not?
Ruth's Coastal Walk (UK) 