Local follows global adventurer, Alastair Humphreys, as he documents a year spent exploring a single map to see if he can learn to love where he lives and quell the call of the mountains in a sustainable way.
If you’ve ever wondered whether you put down roots in the right place for adventure, this book is for you. Alastair Humphreys doesn’t really like where he lives, he admits in the opening pages of his new book, Local. But with his trademark enthusiasm and self-deprecating humour, he sets out to explore the area around his home stretching over a single custom OS map anyway, hoping to see if he can quell the call of the mountains in a sustainable, simple and cheap way.
It’s a relatively small and ring-fenced – sometimes literally – space in which to set a book about adventure. Al grapples with this throughout, often thanking readers for sticking with him. But if anyone can do it, and make it a thoroughly enjoyable read, it’s the inventor of the micro adventure himself. And in fact, Al ends up discovering that this single map is a “fluid, flexible and fixable” thing as he travels through the seasons on a journey into knowing and understanding the world around him – as well as facing up to some of his own internal battles between wanderlust and home.
Al chooses not to give away the exact location of his map. But, most of us will recognise landmarks which occur up hill and down dale in England’s “green and pleasant lands”. From the concrete council estates to sleepy suburbia by way of leafy canal tracks, motorway underpasses and the occasional bench on top of a hill, familiarity seeps off the page of Local.
It’s a soothingly ‘real’ read in the face of more far-flung alternatives. What makes these places special, however mundane they might sound, is simply that the author has decided to pay attention and in doing so, opted to care for these environments.
The moments in which Al attempts to be mindful in his surroundings – from sitting on tree stumps in silence for painfully long minutes to savouring hot coffee on freezing and blustery winter mornings – provide honest and funny insight into restless minds. We’ve all had moments in which we wonder why we do it. Al has many in this book. But his approach to his year exploring a single map puts the ‘fun’ in profundity. It’s a refreshing mix.
And yet, along the journey, he encounters both joy in the passing of seasons and frustrations over access and maltreatment of nature. He sees pristine lawns and wildflower meadows. He frequents many a charming pub for plenty of pints and starts conversations – as well as the occasional disagreement – with those who also call his map their home from farmers to travellers to fellow walkers.
Some of the encounters seem so poetically well-placed you might assume Al exaggerated a few tales. So, the smattering of well-framed photographs are a welcome addition to the narrative; photographic evidence that you have to get out there with purpose to enjoy these profound and funny moments.
Readers will also no doubt enjoy the pleasant tangents. These range from insightful identifications of flora and fauna to the etymology of the colour orange, cats eyes, deneholes, the mass production of plastics, and the origins of fried fish – a beloved food staple we so often claim as our own but in actual fact was introduced to Britain by Jewish refugees from Iberia.
Despite its physical confinement to a single map, Local is a book for those curious about everything and anything. I savoured every tiny detail, every minute morsel of information in this book, folding down page corners in the hopes I’ll remember tidbits to share with pals next time we’re at a pub quiz.
But the insightful patter of Local really holds my attention when Al comes to address the visible impacts of our country’s disconnect with nature, contextualising what he sees with detailed analyses, looking to other countries leading the way and giving rights to ecosystems.
From the fisherman with whom Al discusses frustrating metal fencing around a lake – he points to the enclosures acts that started the process of privatising common land way back in 1604 – to the people charged with clearing cases of fly tipping, Local gets to the heart of the matter.
This is a book that sees flaws in the landscape and the systems that allowed them to flourish and fester while we, as a society, become further removed from the natural spaces we have come to inhabit.
It is refreshing to read this new perspective on finding adventure from an author with Al’s global credentials. Having travelled through more than eighty countries by bike, boat and on foot, he often wonders whether his year on a single map can sustain his wanderlust.
It turns out, it can. While many of us tirelessly seek the next big peak or a new place where we can disconnect, there is much to learn from Local. We might even end up loving where we live just that little bit more.
Local is published by Eye Books (£12.99, paperback).
When contributors to The Great Outdoors aren’t out walking, some like to relax with a good book. Read their outdoor book reviews and discover your next adventurous bedtime story.