Jumping the Cliff to Simply Be

By Paul Burgum

Between December 2013 and February 2014, carpenter, youth worker and adventurer Paul Burgum walked from the southern tip of Italy’s Reggio Calabria, across the French border and into the principality of Monaco. He was alone, with no money, minimal resources and a firm resolve to walk every step of the way.
This book is based on his day to day journals and gives an inspirational insight into his battle with mental health and alcohol problems as he walked to raise money for the Jo and Mya Memorial Fund.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sixth Element Publishing
• Release date: Jul 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310817014

Book preview

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Everybody has the right to be amazing!

Another day walking in rain from start to finish. The face can’t lie.

Paul Burgum is a carpenter, youth worker, motivational speaker, and founder of BCT Aspire CIC, a social enterprise that has the simple but important aim of raising the aspirations of children and young people. Paul has developed a successful strategy for achievement, that began from simply taking on his own lifelong demons, that he hopes to share with others.

Since suffering a nervous breakdown in 2009, finally admitting his own mental health and alcohol problems, Paul has gone on to found his own not for profit social enterprise delivering a wide range of events for the good of the community and especially children and young people, and was named the Evening Gazette’s Community Champion for Children and Young People in 2012.

As part of his attempt to get to grips with his own problems, Paul began walking. During time living away in County Durham whilst he went through a period of admitting his own issues, Paul began to walk further and further with faithful friend Meg (a Patterdale Terrier), laying the seeds for the first walk across England, where he would have to learn to ask for help. This resulted in the start of a four-year voyage that took in over three thousand miles of walking, spanning the length of Europe, from the Southern Tip of Italy to the edge of the Orkney Islands, also passing through France, England and Scotland. These walks were done in a country at a time, and during each one, Paul recorded his thoughts in a diary, that became a blog and is now to be published as a series of books.

For each walk, Paul raised the bar in terms of his own rules, with the journeys across both the length of France and Italy done with limited money, language skills, support crew and only a small tent for comfort. Through these tests, he took on his own anxiety disorder by forcing himself to have to ask for help and support, not even speaking the language. He began to realise that his thoughts were his own and that he could maybe learn to think better, more positive thoughts. These ideas were tested out on the road in testing conditions.

As a youth worker, Paul has shared his learning with many young people, believing in simple values such as hard work, respect of both self and others, and that dreams are achievable if we are prepared to stick in. He also believes that all experiences in life help to form who we are and that the greatest learning comes from the toughest of moments, when we keep on fighting. Through his own experiences, Paul has learned the importance of making people feel comfortable and confident in their surroundings, something that he believes can help people to achieve great things.

A former talented rugby player who represented England North at his peak, Paul has also turned his attention to running and lately ultra running, aiming to use the same techniques he has learned through walking to stay positive whilst running distances up to a 160 miles non-stop.

Paul started his speaking career talking to pupils at a school that specialised in behavioural problems. This was a place where Paul gained the courage to talk about his own way of trying to reset his own learnt behaviours. Since then he has given talks to a cross section of people including high level business executives, professional sportsmen, youth groups, colleges and universities. He has also won numerous other business and community awards for his diverse range of work, which includes running numerous youth sessions, community events through BCT Aspire CIC and continuing to work as a time-served carpenter on building sites.

Paul believes that everybody can achieve their own dreams and that we are all capable of being absolutely brilliant. As a long time depression sufferer, he believes that we can all at times be beaten by the simplest problems, even when at other times we are capable of great feats, like his own journey. Having developed his own mix of techniques, he uses thoughts from Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, Mindfulness and Positive Thinking. Paul believes his approach can be applied to any person or problem, that staying positive is a choice and that the simplest of things are often the best answer.

To learn more about Paul and his life, check out:

www.paulburgum.com

www.facebook.com/italymonaco30days

Twitter: @pburgum

BACKGROUND TO THE WALK

This walk was undertaken between December 2013 and February 2014, from the southern tip of Italy’s Reggio Calabria to across the French border and into the principality of Monaco.

Paul’s preparation for the walk was minimal to say the least. He just completed getting his kit together the day before leaving. Flights were booked and a room for his arrival was arranged, but apart from that, there was only to be a starting point and a finish. As with all of Paul’s walks, this was to be done without cash to hand, other than from donations from people on the ground and also donations from back home for the occasional room.

The walk was intended to raise funds for the Jo and Mya Memorial Fund, in memory of Jo and Mya Richardson from Paul’s home town of Billingham, who were tragically killed in a motorway accident. The charity was set up by Ian Richardson with the aim of supporting others who had been bereaved, especially children, with the provision of additional counselling and support.

Paul also wished to dedicate this walk to the memory of Dan Wills who passed away in 2013. Not close friends but having shared a bus ride to and from the Great North Run which they both raced, they discussed their mutual love of the outdoors and also spent the time talking about going wild camping some time.

Paul departed the UK on his own the day after Boxing Day in the early hours of the morning. Everything from this point would be a new challenge every single day.

ARRIVING IN REGGIO CALABRIA – ITALY

Calabria. The first vista that took my breath away.

It may have been over a year since my last walk, but already familiar feelings were flooding back. My first simple Italian word had been spoken, as I sat writing upon my Alitalia flight towards Rome. This was a simple but important mark in the sand, this small word being the first hurdle in my epic journey. I had to begin to immerse myself in all things Italian and take each tiny step as part of achieving this mammoth challenge.

I actually felt completely knackered simply sitting on the plane, with the sun shining brightly through the clouds. Madness, maybe, to say that this was possibly my first chance to recharge the batteries. I mean my mental battery, as of course my body was going to have to put a fair bit of work in, but it was the weight on the mind that truly tired me.

I seemed to be in a state of mind I knew well from previous adventures. It was like a numbness that actually felt quite nice, the slipping away of one set of metaphorical luggage. I could see small problems to be solved one by one. To my mind, it had to be small challenges, giving also small victories in an endeavour as large as this walk was to be. At times, we need to give ourselves a taste of success at regular intervals if we are to stay motivated on longer journeys and challenges.

I had many aims for the walk, foremost representing a charity I truly believe in, wanting to achieve it in their name and spread a positive message, as the charity does.

My connection to the charity had grown over the previous year, as had my friendship to its founder Ian Richardson. I can only imagine many of the things that the Richardson family has gone through, but I can relate to many of the mental health issues that form part of the legacy from any great trauma suffered in our lives. The charity inspires me, because if Ian can do it, having suffered and lost so much, then surely it gives us all inspiration to fight our own battles, whatever form they take.

I wanted to challenge myself to write as vividly as I could on the trip, regardless of tiredness, fatigue or any other challenges. Why? This walk was my own way of building strength, courage and self-pride, from a mind that always struggles to appreciate itself.

My day changed slightly once I arrived in Rome and awaited my last flight. I suppose that I started to realise again how my lack of language skills may impact the job. I bought a coffee and squeaked my order. When in Rome was never a truer saying. The flight to Calabria was actually then quite a peaceful flight, with some light shut-eye.

I departed the plane and headed outside, looking at the taxi rank. I paced up and down a few times before approaching a driver. My situation had just dawned on me in complete hyper colour. My heart was racing, everybody whizzing about me knowing exactly where they were going. I began going through the process of psyching myself up to speak Italian and get where I needed to go. Everybody around me started to grow into giants as inside I felt as small as a mouse. My previous endeavours, when I have challenged my anxieties time and time again, came to my mind. This was just another challenge to be overcome.

I got my taxi for 30 euros and had the worst non-conversation ever. I was like a stunned rabbit, and maybe anybody would have been? Any words I had practised at home seemed to instantly vacate my mind. Not one plausible phrase could I manage to piece together. I reached my hotel feeling very subdued after what felt like a poor performance. It was like playing a game, when you just knew you hadn’t performed. Still, there were a million matches to come. To make matters worse, my mobile wouldn’t work and I spent the next hour on the phone to Vodafone. I began to worry about going out to eat, building up the idea of going out, but I knew I needed to, sooner rather than later. Can you believe a guy attempting to walk a whole country alone, was getting worried by such stupid things?

The guy on reception recommended a great little place, however at first it was freeze time, struggling to understand the menu, handwritten in Italian obviously. I ordered some wine, my attempt to gain a tiny bit of Dutch courage and slowly work out what was actually on the menu. Bit by bit my confidence grew, partly down to the waitress taking the time to attempt some English, whilst I did the same in Italian. To even manage the most basic of conversations really buoyed me back up, as well as finding out where to find camping gas nearby. I enjoyed the novelty of my situation alone in a foreign country with no real idea how things were going to pan out. I knew I would have to take each situation as it came and use all of my experiences from life to help me conquer each single one.

The walk home was saddened slightly, as I passed a young-looking lass on the street corner, making a living in a very sad way. I know it happens all over but I looked at her as I walked past and could see the sadness in her face.

Well, there I was in Calabria and that meant I was on the way to completing my goal of walking Europe, but one day at a time.

REGGIO CALABRIA – SEARCH FOR SUPPLIES

Mount Etna watches as I start my journey.

If there was a plan, it changed continually as does every plan in life. It was to be a day of, at first frustrations, then acceptance of everything. My day had simple aims, mainly camping gas and my food supplies, then potentially a relaxed look round. Sadly this wasn’t to be the case. I headed to the places to get gas but to no avail. I wandered hour upon hour, but no joy whatsoever. I did take in some amazing sights as I walked and as usual, the bello (beautiful) churches struck me, so grand and spectacular. Calabria has some amazing architecture with the old streets full of character, like you’d imagine in a film, the people bustling about on a Saturday afternoon. Italians don’t seem to hang about.

In the end, I returned with a six pack of water, a start maybe. Actually it was a reality check as all this walking had made me dehydrated. I could feel my lips getting sore, one of the signs. This was something that would become a big part of my existence, managing my hydration. I was worried that if it was as cold as it was last year in Northern France, I could forget to drink. The body soon punishes you for that simple but potentially serious mistake. It probably wasn’t helped by drinking red wine, but I wasn’t going to beat myself up about another slow relapse to drink. At the time and even with everything I knew, a little Dutch courage was required, whilst gaining my strength.

Back to my day and not my own demons. I returned to the hotel feeling drained and tired, so decided on a power nap before trying again.

I am an avid fan of power naps, totally believing in the reviving ability of just twenty minutes. Some of you may have seen the picture of me asleep with my pack on still.

I knew shops would be shutting, so I headed out for a supermarket I’d finally seen, the faceless man’s favourite shop. Why, you ask? Well, in towns in both France and Italy, you go to small shops and you interact with the staff. They’re not like the big processing plant stores. I picked up a few bits and pieces, including coffee which wasn’t easy to find – no one in Italy drinks instant coffee, I did however plump for the old favourite, Gold Blend. That was accompanied by prosciutto, ciabatta, Milka chocolate and lemon sweets. That was my diet for then. Once I could get the burner up and running, I was going to challenge myself to try cooking a bit more than straight pasta, but I had to see. Food simply had to be quick and functional once on the road.

One bizarre thing happened that shows a window to my psyche with zebra crossings. I know Europeans don’t mess about and I wondered if you cross or wait. Well, this had me in bits. I worked out, just like walking roads, you go for it. But that is the kind of thing that troubles my mind, not the big stuff, like a thousand miles of walking. We all have strengths and weaknesses and the fear of offending people or doing the wrong thing socially is very much mine. Behind my strong exterior façade, insecurity bubbles away like a molten hot pot. I had gone out for a meal that evening and had it reminded to me that human kindness has no boundaries, certainly not language, if the desire and will are there. I was just a stranger to everyone I met, so surely their kindness was the most genuine.

Simple things would get me through this walk. The first day I was unsure of saying hello to all that I met. Then someone thanked me for letting them past and I was reminded, this ain’t rocket science, kindness was a lesson my grandparents taught me well. I always remember how my grandfather used to speak to everyone he passed as did all of that generation. That is what people showed me that night, the simplest of gestures, but they resonate the most, always.

Well it was nigh on game time. I spoke to Ian Richardson and knew I had good support, plus so many friends, I didn’t feel alone. Who knew the challenges that would come to me, but what I did know was, I couldn’t worry about them till they were real. That’s how it should be, if only for the human mind, eh?

DAY 1

REGGIO CALABRIA TO SCILLA

Even on the darkest day, the sun can shine through!

A gift from my guardian angel, maybe? Meg.

I awoke not feeling great. It was almost like somebody was trying to prevent this walk from happening. My chest felt incredibly tight and with my track record, that wasn’t great. I really had to drag myself out of my room for breakfast, but managed only a few pieces of bread and ham. This was even though I knew that I had to eat as much as I could at every available opportunity.

I knew that nothing’s perfect but after the problems with my back, I felt like I was due some luck. Still, perseverance is my middle name, or ‘nutter’ as some call me, a nice one though. I wrestled with my pack, trying to push in all my equipment. The addition of my daily supplies had left it literally overflowing. Another curve ball was my water carrier. For some stupid reason, I had cleaned it out with boiling water, leaving a small hole in it, making it useless. It was such a simple error, but yet another little issue to raise my nerves further still. Why do I leave things till the last minute so often? Well, because it’s me!

I lifted the pack onto my shoulder to depart my room and was instantly taken by the immense weight. I remonstrated with myself about my lack of training and preparation for the trip.

As I walked down to the water to find a great spot to start the walk, I got quite a few funny looks from the locals. I took in the busy Sunday market as I walked down towards my starting point. I reached a beautiful view point overlooking the sea, just as two cyclists were taking pictures. I asked if they’d like me to take a picture for them and they said yes. This was a very positive start to the walk, meeting Giovanni and Diego.

Our language was one of mutual openness for a fellow human, and both offered a smile as they went about their day, such a simple thing. It really raised my spirits and reminded me what I knew, that people are good all over and kindness doesn’t start and stop with geographical boundaries, or any other for that matter, including language. We swapped Facebook contacts and it instantly lifted me, making me feel like I was no longer alone on the ground in Italy.

I looked across to Mount Etna on Sicily, feeling almost overwhelmed by my surroundings. The small boy in me was thinking that this was simply comic book stuff, but no, it was my life.

Well, for all the tourist stuff, there was a job to start and the sooner I started, the sooner I would finish. My planning of the route was basic, as always. To the people who always say, Why didn’t you plan it more?, I explain that when you view maps of a foreign country, you can’t always see clearly their suitability for walking. I take it one road at a time; I don’t need to know my road for later, or tomorrow or next week, only