The Last Wilderness

Warning! Those of a non pedantic disposition should not read my review!

I’ll start with all the positives about this book. As an enthusiastic walker (although I’m currently very limited due to temporary health issues), I thoroughly enjoyed wandering the Rough Bounds of NW Scotland in Neil Ansell’s company. I can find nature writing boring at times but I’m not sure I would really classify this book as such. He’s clearly knowledgeable about birds, animals, plants and trees but he rarely goes beyond describing what he’s seeing as a backdrop to his walks. I was happy with that.

The title ‘A Journey into Silence’ is a wry comment on his loss of hearing which is steadily worsening. For someone who loves nature to be gradually losing the ability to hear birdsong is a tragedy. Also, he has other health problems that are making the physical demands of walks such as these less likely in the future. Ansell ruminates on these problems occasionally but not to the point of becoming maudlin.

So what are my problems with the book? Firstly, and I know this is extremely pedantic, but having said that he can hear very little now, he tells us on more than one occasion that <i>‘there was no sound at all’</i> or <i>‘there was a complete silence’</i>. Well, was there? Or was it that he could hear nothing? In my experience, nature is rarely, if ever, silent.

Secondly, there were inconsistencies in his text. On a walk to a bothy, he reflected on what he might do if it was already full as he <i>‘had failed to pack a tent’</i>. Four pages later, on finding the bothy already occupied, he sets off <i>’to find a beach to pitch my tent on’</i>.

It was usually possible to track his walks on an OS map so I know that his description of looking down on a loch around which there was no trail is just wrong. I checked with walking websites and the route along the north side of the loch - his side - is a clear and popular track. Yes, I know I’m being pedantic but accuracy matters to me.

Thirdly, those with little experience of walking in wilderness areas are unlikely to follow in his footsteps but sadly some will and every year the rescue services are called in to search for idiots who have set off with little preparation and less of a clue. In the same way as a disclaimer was issued at the end of every episode of Julia Bradbury’s enjoyable Wainwright Walks tv series, so should this book carry one. Ansell frequently gets lost and relies only on his sense of direction and the hope that he will see a hill or loch that he recognises to set him back on the correct path. I find that completely irresponsible and frankly idiotic. He also drinks directly from mountain streams and lochs without first purifying the water. Dead sheep juice anyone?

Lastly, Ansell is very well travelled having spent much of his life wandering around the world backpacking. I’m sure a book on these travels would be a really interesting read but I found his anecdotes intrusive in this book. One minute I was walking in the wilds of the Highlands, the next he had me in Sweden, or Australia, or South America, or Africa. These interruptions often jarred and it was then that this mixture of outdoors/nature writing combined with autobiographical musings just didn’t work for me. There’s rather a tongue in cheek quote towards the end of the book when he shows some insight by saying, <i>’It reminded me of a long time ago. Of course it does, you say, everything reminds him of something else.’</i> I have no argument with that statement!

And breathe...........

Overall, I really did enjoy this book for the reasons given at the start of my review. Ansell raises thoughtful questions about solitude. Is it only a pleasure when we know we have someone to return to? Would it be such a pleasure if we didn’t? For me personally, the answer to that question is easy. Definitely 4 stars and recommended if you love NW Scotland or would like to learn more about it.

With thanks to NetGalley and Tinder Press for a review copy.