Everyone walks at this time of year, even the most stubborn stroll-refusers venture out and something special happens when we walk with each other. The simple forward motion seems to unlock our thoughts and allow us to commune without the usual barriers, but it has to be the right walk, for the right person. When someone’s dating profile says they love a romantic turn along a deserted beach, no one is imagining one side of their face numbed by a freezing gale and an ankle twisted on slippery rocks. Your 82-year-old mother and your 17-year-old son need very different terrain so we’ve scouted the ingredients for a Christmas hike to suit every style of human in your life.
The Neglected Spouse
There’s something about sharing your life with someone that makes them easy to overlook – like a shelving unit or a houseplant. When the bulk of your conversation is made up of passive-aggressive observations about coffee cups not making their own way to the dishwasher, you need a walk.
It seems the act of walking is in itself relationship-healing as we silently “agree” to move harmoniously, even if there are underlying issues to be resolved. Dr Christine Webb, a lecturer at Harvard University, studies primate behaviours but turned her attention to the interactions humans have as we stride out together. She noted in a study paper how apes resolved conflict by moving together and this was echoed by human animals. “I noticed how our bodies naturally synchronise. How we adopt a similar gait and cadence and make implicit agreements about how fast to walk and when to stop and when to turn.”
Relationship bonding requires a walk that is picturesque, not excessively demanding and, importantly, does not require elaborate survival clothing. Very few couples can rekindle romance while wearing plastic over-trousers.
Finally, if there’s a real disagreement, pick a mountain, says Dr Webb: “There is some process where you feel like you got to the top of this together, there was struggle and then you walk down together. The more intractable the problem, the harder the hike should be.”
Where: Lake Vyrnwy, Powys, Wales. The purple trail is a five-mile circular walk along forest tracks and roads with a gentle incline and romance-inspiring views.
The Moody Teenager
This character lives largely in their bedroom and rarely strays out to share space with their predictable, judgmental and poorly dressed family. A personality still finding a path between saintly and psychotic means they need the full might of nature to draw their attention away from their own inner landscape. First, the setting needs to be far from anyone they might possibly know – to be seen walking with your parents would mean relocating to a Safe House in a far distant country. Then they need drama – cliffs or very steep hills with views that remind you the world is larger than your trainer collection. Very few introspective moods can survive a mountain range.
Kate Davis of the Ramblers Association suggests big Welsh peaks, “I love the drama; adding a good-sized hill is always an idea. There’s an element of competition as you climb. Also, a well-known hill is an achievement you can talk about. Being able to say, ‘I went up Pen Y Fan (the highest peak in South Wales) is quite something. I walked up Cadair Idris and it had everything, majesty, a lake, and incredible views. It was hard but within my capabilities.”
Where: Cadair Idris in the southern part of the Snowdonia National Park. Here you can find Fox’s Path and Llyn-y-Gadair – a mountain lake guaranteed to tug anyone off their phone.
The very dear friend you haven’t seen for years
To overcome the tendency to present a mask of “doing fine” and access each other’s secret fears and resentments (always the best bit of a close friendship), you need a really long and demanding walk. Time and exhaustion play a similar role to the second bottle of wine and allow you to bypass inhibitions and talk about the marriage issues, the unfulfilled ambitions, and the detailed plans to murder the boss. The first hour can be all “Jude is captain of the rugby team”, but the second hour as thighs start to burn, that’s when you can pull away the curtain and look behind the scenes. Mallory McDuff is an environmental educator and author who has written about the power of walking. “The benefit of a longer walk is there’s time for periods of not talking and that allows for organic material of friendship to emerge.”
Walking side by side with another person is the perfect formation in which to discuss more awkward issues. Dr Jessica Kingston, senior lecturer and clinical psychologist at Royal Holloway University, says, “Research suggests that eye contact with another person activates emotion-related brain areas, as well as enhancing self-focused attention, which can sometimes trigger socially anxious worries, such as how we are coming across to others. Walking side by side can thus reduce the emotional intensity of social interactions, making it easier for some of us to speak more openly about personal issues.”
Three hours feels the right duration for emotional intimacy, hour four would send most of us into a grim silent march in which the only conversation is with your own stinging calves.
Where: Southwold to Dunwich, a Suffolk coastal walk which encompasses waterfowl, pebbly beaches and rich forest: more than enough to break down anyone’s social inhibitions.
The whole extended tribe including small children and older relatives
A multigenerational walk is the ultimate mixed-ability class. The party will contain small people who will run joyfully for 20 feet before declaring themselves unable to move and staging their own Just Stop Oil-style protest on a crowded path. There will be people in their eighties for whom every wet leaf is a potential journey to A&E and at any one time there will be at least two people who need the loo.
Kate Davis recommends country parks where the eternal vastness of nature is available handily tamed with paths, cafes and plentiful toilet facilities. “Country parks have clearly labelled walks – each one with marked durations – and you don’t have to worry about navigation, just follow the arrows.” Many British families will, of course, have already been in each other’s company for what seems like 125 years by the time a Christmas walk comes around. We recommend keeping this one concise. The Big Family Walk is really as much a state of mind as an actual event. It only needs to last a little more than half an hour with double that time spent consuming hot chocolates and biscuits the size of dustbin lids in the visitor centre. Conversation across generations and the inevitable political divides is helped by a walk with very obvious points of interest. Davis recommends the Forest of Dean in Gloucestershire, for example, with its sculpture trail to debate/interpret/climb on.
Where: Croome in Worcestershire has a wheelchair and buggy accessible two-mile route with a bird hide, a lake and a Temple Greenhouse. Cakes are available.
The solo because-you’ve-been-around-people-too-much walk
You’ve made tea for them, played Taskmaster with them, mingled politely with them and even hugged a few but after a while other humans can become a bit much. The solo walk is precious time: no thinking of the next thing to say, no smiling weakly at horrible puns, no being someone others want you to be – the ultimate luxury. To be out of signal (or “out of signal”) means a long walk. The in-built contradiction of the long solo walk is that you want an adventure but not to end up having to build a shelter and live off field mice.
Emma-Louise Pritchard, an editor at Country Living, says, “This is me. I crave solo walks. This is all about mindfulness, you have to find different terrain to keep you engaged. Some forest, a little open field. Mixing it up.” For safety, she recommends finding a route via community apps like Strava and AllTrails that people have tested for solitary outings. She suggests wooded walks for that special cocooned feeling beneath the leaf canopy. “Woods are very comforting. A hug from nature. I’d recommend Badbury Clump, famous for its bluebells.”
Where: Badbury Clump near Coleshill in Oxfordshire, recommended by the National Trust as a perfect spot for forest bathing – essentially being calm and mindful in a beautiful, tree-filled setting.