I'm a talker. I'm into debating, gossiping and teasing. I solve problems by talking them through. This works perfectly well when I have people to talk to. Under lockdown, however, I've only had my partner, Peter. We not only lived, worked and traveled together, but mostly socialized together, too. Under the first UK lockdown, our constant closeness began to feel uncomfortable.
For the first time in our 10 years together, we needed to be alone. I tried to manufacture this by going on walks on my own, but a short walk in the local park wasn't doing the job. I considered my options and hit upon an idea: the semi-solo hike. Could we do a circular hike but walk in different directions? This would give us the space and peace of a solo hike. It felt like a promising compromise, so I told him about it. He thought it was thoroughly silly but agreed to give it a try.
We started with a four-mile loop (环形) from Reeth. At the start, we parted ways. At first, I was aware of how close we were, which lessened the appeal. Walking alone offers freedom and alone time, but here I was with my boyfriend nearby. As I gained ground, however, I found myself very much alone. I set my own pace, and I decided to take my time.
I sat on a rock and breathed out. That moment — with the weak sun through the clouds and the breeze blowing across makeshift pools — felt extraordinary to me. I was born and raised in London and had never imagined leaving until I met an outdoorsman. Now, my former life as a city girl felt crazy. Realizing what I had gained, I felt the tension leave me. There, in the chilly air, I no longer needed to talk. The semi-solo hike gave us a shared experience with added room to breathe. I didn't see Peter on route but reunited back where we started, both of us sheepish (难为情的) but pleased. The semi-solo hike is admittedly silly in theory, but for me it has been a lifeline. It has given me the gift of time alone and, in a year of constant closeness, the joy of reuniting.
