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 […]
Tag Archives: britain
23. Maylandsea to Bradwell
The wind is wild and the sea stormy. I meet a venemous, slithery thing. And I grow angry at people who obstruct my right to walk along the sea wall. Continue reading
22. Maldon to Maylandsea
Here is Byrhtnoth, the Earldorman of Essex, bold and fierce, looking out to sea. I see Bradwell Power Station ahead of me and realise am making little progress. I worry about snakes and twisted ankles …. then my phone dies. Continue reading
Stage 20. Old Hall Marshes to Tollesbury
Bradwell Power Station looms menacingly on the horizon. There is the threat of rain and strange colour-changing light. My trousers look like an insect graveyard – sticky webs with spiders, flies, butterflies, beetles, ladybirds… Little flies extract their revenge on behalf of the insect kingdom, attacking my upper arms. Continue reading
Stage 19. West Mersea to Peldon to Old Hall Farm
This is a day of highs and lows – and of unanswered questions. What has caused the death of all these little crabs? Why am I forced to play “chicken” with uncoming cars? And what is the purpose of that large, menacing building in the distance? Continue reading
Stage 18. Jaywick to West Mersea
“Ferry,” says a male voice.
“Can you come and pick us up please?” I ask. “There are two of us and a bike.”
After a moment’s hesitation, the man says in a somewhat irritated tone, “I am not a taxi service you know.” Continue reading
Stage 16. Harwich to Kirby-le-Soken
The heat is relentless – more like Spain than England – and the air is hot and close around my face. My chest feels tight and I am having trouble breathing. I hear the sound of horse hooves behind me and have to force myself not to stop. There is horsey breath coming over my shoulder…. Continue reading
Stage 14. Aldeburgh through Chillesford to Boyton Marshes
Today is a day of forests, fields, pigs and hay fever. I get hot, cross, bothered – and lost – on a pig farm. I meet a snake and nearly have a close encounter with some cows. Continue reading
Stage 13. Dunwich, Sizewell, Thorpeness to Aldeburgh
Being a medical doctor carries a penalty – hypochondria. While I ponder the miracle of my apparent fitness, despite a multitude of possible ailments, time passes and I make my slow progress along the shingle. I am heading for Sizewell nuclear power station. Continue reading
Stage 12. Covehithe, Southwold, Walberswick and Dunwich
What is the one thing more embarrassing then being rescued by the coastguards?
I walk past crumbling cliffs and fallen trees. I can’t resist taking photographs, wanting to capture some of the drama and sadness of this doomed area, as the land gives way to the tides and the greedy sea. Continue reading
Stage 11. Corton to Lowestoft to Benacre
I reach the the most Eastern point of the British Isles and then head off down a long stretch of deserted beach. Disorientated by a never-ending shingle bank, I miss lunch and am nearly defeated by a disappearing beach as I make my way past crumbling cliffs. Continue reading
Ruth's Coastal Walk (UK) 