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That night was part of a 26-day trespass and wild camp adventure I did last summer. I walked 505 miles \u2013 over a million steps \u2013 from Hastings to Gretna on the Scottish border, raising awareness and money for\u00a0Right to Roam<\/a>, a campaign for greater access to nature in England. I also turned 40 this year and I can\u2019t afford a Porsche, so this felt like good grist for the crisis mill.<\/p>\n The story dates back to lockdown. In beachless Worcestershire, I was shocked by the lack of places to swim in nature. Near where I stayed, there were none, so I trespassed on a local manor\u2019s grounds to night-swim in its lake. Writing about it led to research that still floors me: 92% of England is private. That is to say, 8% is accessible without permission. Yes, that includes footpaths. For lakes, rivers and reservoirs, it\u2019s 3%.<\/p>\n Meanwhile, wild camping is illegal everywhere except Dartmoor national park in Devon. Even that\u2019s now under threat: banker Alexander Darwall has appealed to the Supreme Court to stop people camping there without permission (read: payment). As Right to Roam\u2019s Lewis Winks told me: \u201cIt\u2019s not just about a night under canvas; it\u2019s about connecting with nature on its own terms.\u201d The court\u2019s decision was due before Christmas but still no word.<\/p>\n I began in Hastings because of William the Conqueror. After seizing the crown in 1066, he and his barons carved up England, evicting commoners to create deer parks. The laws made then to punish those who resisted still echo today. And the disparity of ownership is as stark: 0.05% of the population own half of England. The rest of us occupy about 6% of the land. Mad and maddening.<\/p>\n Authors Nick Hayes (The Book of Trespass<\/a><\/em>) and Guy Shrubsole (Who Owns England<\/a><\/em>) argue that the property and privacy laws that exclude us actually inform many of our modern woes: environmental collapse (England has one of the lowest biodiversity scores in the world) and the mental health crisis are just the start. To begin tackling them, they argue, we need to challenge the idea that the countryside should be reserved for a select few \u2018custodians\u2019 \u2013 and that we commoners don\u2019t belong.<\/p>\n I\u2019m a paragon of the nature-divorced townie. I don\u2019t hike. Or camp. In fact, I bought my bivvy bag and 0%-waterproof boots on Amazon a week before I left. I did no training. At all. On my first evening\u2019s camp, among the private redwoods of the Beech Estate near Battle, I lit my first ever campfire using the Clipper I typically reserve for fags. I didn\u2019t know they were redwoods until I downloaded an app that told me they weren\u2019t oaks.<\/p>\n My ignorance being near complete, I made it my mission to meet with and interview experts and enthusiasts along the way. People who might explain how to wild camp and trespass safely and responsibly while better connecting with that green thing over there called nature.<\/p>\n Most memorable among them was Emma Linford, expedition leader and Right to Roam insider. We trespassed on Rushton Hall, once home to Sir Thomas Tresham, infamous for illegal enclosures that led to the Midlands Revolt of 1607. Rushton stands out because it was the only time I was \u2018caught\u2019. A local landowner intercepted us in his spotless Disco and demanded answers. Emma took the lead. By the end of a surprisingly affable chat, he admitted he sympathised with the access cause but feared litigation if anyone got hurt on his land. \u201cThere\u2019s no such thing as getting caught,\u201d Emma said as we walked away. \u201cIt\u2019s just a chance to start a conversation.\u201d<\/p>\n Others I met included Paul Powlesland, a barrister and founder of Lawyers for Nature, who\u2019s guerrilla-restoring riverbanks in East London; Maxwell Ayamba, scholar-activist reframing the countryside through Black history; Leigh Rose of Trash Free Trails, running litter-picks to mend both trails and minds; and Issy from the 15,000-strong Sheffield Outdoor Plungers, who took me trespass-swimming in a reservoir. Each showed me that access isn\u2019t just a naughty jaunt, but about belonging and healing, the land and oneself.<\/p>\n One of the more laughable issues I faced was with access islands \u2013 locked-off pockets of \u2018open country\u2019 you can roam on, but with no legal way to reach, short of a parachute. To highlight this preposterousness, I trespassed in a precisely straight line between two of the country\u2019s biggest access islands in Cumbria. Chased by nothing more than cows, I made it unscathed, save a few more blisters to decorate my now bubonic feet.<\/p>\n From there, I walked to Gretna over the Scottish border towards a symbolic finish: Scotland\u2019s 2003 Land Reform Act enshrines the right to roam and wild camp for all. \u201cHaving this much freedom is powerful and life changing,\u201d said Nadia Shaikh from Right to Roam, who greeted me at the finish. She lives on the Isle of Bute and cherishes the connection to nature it allows her.<\/p>\n Immediately after the walk I caught the train to Shambala Festival, back in Northamptonshire, to share my experiences with a sympathetic crowd. \u201cThis is proof that adventure needn\u2019t have an exotic backdrop!\u201d I preached. \u201cSo grab a mate, that tent you\u2019re sleeping in and some picky bits from M&S \u2013 and just go!\u201d Though as the festival\u2019s founder, \u200bSidharth Sharma, rightly said afterward: \u201cAccess is about so much more than recreation. It\u2019s about mental health, identity, justice, connection and community.\u201d
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