by A realization that struck me after cycling a lap of the planet was how much of the world I had seen, but how small. I had imagined that four years of pedaling through 60 countries and crossing oceans on boats would satisfy my wanderlust. In fact, it did the opposite. It encouraged me to seek new adventures and experience more places. And so I walked across southern India, crossed Iceland with a pack, and spent weeks camping on the frozen Arctic Ocean. I’ve pulled a cart across the desert of the Empty Quarter, rowed the Atlantic Ocean, and busked very badly through Spain on the violin.
During my wandering years, I realized that much of what I was looking for on my travels was inside my head and heart, rather than over the next horizon. I wondered, then, if I could find challenge and intelligence closer to home. So I walked a lap of the M25 in search of adventure even in a worldly environment. It was a fascinating journey that allowed me to pursue short, simple and affordable escapes – micro-adventures – that fit in with busy everyday life.
Weekend trips, wild camps and wild floats are not “better” adventures than cycling across the continent with a tent attached to the back of a bike (nothing), but they are not “worse”. Micro-adventures are a way to find the greatest possible opportunities in your life, rather than bemoaning the obstacles that stand in the way of your dreams. They’re about getting excited about the possibilities for the weekend, rather than regretting that you don’t have months left.
But after years of evangelizing about micro-adventures, I wanted to bring the curiosity of exploring the world closer to home. Bringing nature nearby into everyday life and showing that this was possible for all of us to do, every day, wherever we live, and how busy we are.
So I decided to spend an entire year exploring the single Ordnance Survey map that I live on. The country is covered by its Explorer series of maps, each covering approximately 20km x 20km, and divided into individual kilometer grid squares. My map is located in an inconspicuous corner of the country, on the edge of a city, with constant hums of traffic and the orange glow of street lights. But you don’t have to live in the beautiful South Downs or the Lake District to enjoy spending time outdoors and discovering new places. I promised to visit a single grid square per week and do my best to explore it thoroughly. I wanted to build a habit of curiosity, and I focused on taking photos during the walks and bike rides as a way to remind myself to slow down and pay attention.
I was initially worried that the project would be boring. That the area of my map was too small and claustrophobic. That the landscape was too built up, not enough streams and hills. Exploring one map for an entire year was definitely not enough.
The first week I worried about those concerns. I went to an impenetrable expanse of marsh which I had never bothered to visit. Reminding myself to work on the principle of what Sir Terry Pratchett described as “The Importance of Being Absolutely Amazed About Everything”, I started taking photos and writing down notes of things to more to learn about it when I got home. The closer I looked, the more I saw. The more I saw, the more there was to see.
I noticed how much I usually lost when I was out running or cycling. My phone has become my trusty professor – point the Seek app at a plant or creature and it will identify it for you; The Merlin app listens to birdsong and tells you which bird is singing. I learned more about nature than I ever did studying for my A-Levels or university degree.
My wanderlust also benefited from these trips. I found a roof hole, a small medieval chalk mine, a few miles from my front door, and enjoyed lowering myself into its dark depths at the end of a climbing rope. By randomly picking grid squares rather than relying on my preconceptions about what areas were “interesting”, I found paths through bellwoods that I never knew existed. I discovered a brown trout swimming in a small stream on a motorway. And I wandered onto a closed golf course that was now getting wild.
The randomness and determination to be curious was important. I expected at first that I would enjoy the rustic grid squares and accept the concrete ones. But, really, my favorite weeks were the weeks I spent peering into forgotten landscapes behind industrial estates, where saplings pushed through cracked concrete and butterflies enjoyed the pesticide-free wildflowers . I loved the silence of the forgotten fringes outside the towns, the wonderful wildness of the woodland strips alongside busy roads, and the loneliness I often felt in these unloved and ignored places on them.
I can’t argue that the year felt like an adventure to compare to rowing oceans or crossing deserts. It was no substitute for those types of trips. But he felt that he likes exploration and travel. It showed how little I knew about where I call home, made me think hard about the crisis of nature loss, and established a healthy habit of fresh air and exercise that was beneficial to both mental and physical health. Above all, it showed that we can think differently about the routes we choose to travel.
Jumping on a plane doesn’t have to be the default choice when you feel like visiting somewhere new. If you are curious and enthusiastic enough, one map could be enough exploration for a lifetime.
Local: Search for Nature and Wildlife nearby by Alastair Humphreys (£12.99) out now
