My Walk of Life: David Carrington-Porter
Interview: Elyssa Campbell-Barr
I’ve been blind since I was seven. I went to a school for the blind in Worcester where, as well as academic subjects, they encouraged outdoor activities – rowing, swimming, horse riding, walking in the Malvern Hills and Brecon Beacons [Bannau Brycheiniog]. My parents were also lovers of the outdoors, taking us on camping holidays. When I was seven or eight, they would send me to the local shop for newspapers. That might sound cruel, but it was the best thing they did. They didn’t mollycoddle me and neither did my brothers. I was encouraged to do everything.
After university and some part-time work, I had a career at the RNIB, advising blind and partially sighted students and providing training for college and university staff. I joined the Countrywide Holidays Association (CHA) and walked with them. In those days I just turned up, hoping somebody would guide me. That’s how I met my wife – she offered to guide me on the walks. We joined Solihull Ramblers together. My blindness was never an issue. (After I was divorced in 1997, the secretary, Sheila Woolley, invited me on walks and encouraged others to try guiding me.)
When our daughter Julia was born I carried her with us, including up the Old Man of Coniston in the Lake District. But as she got older, it became harder. I read about Milton Mountaineers, a charity for blind walkers, and my wife said: ‘Why don’t you join?’ so I started holidaying with them. I also joined the Guide Dogs Adventure Group (although I’ve never had a guide dog – I walk with a trekking pole in my right hand) and went on their active holidays for blind people.
I was still with Milton Mountaineers, and in 2005 the then-leader persuaded me to take over, organising one holiday a year. When I retired in 2010, the Guide Dogs Adventure Group no longer existed and Milton Mountaineers members were asking for more holidays. We now run two or three a year. One sighted helper, David Grimshaw, became a close friend, so I asked: ‘How about helping me?’ It’s useful having a sighted person involved, checking out accommodation or nipping round the hotel to make sure everyone’s ready.
I’ve travelled the world walking. David and I have done the Tour du Mont Blanc and Mount Toubkal in Morocco. With another friend I’ve been to Machu Picchu, China and India. I’ve trekked in Nepal, walked Wainwright’s Coast to Coast and holidayed with Traveleyes, the company run by Ramblers president Amar Latif, who is blind. I enjoy the challenge of hiking up mountains. I climbed Kilimanjaro in 2000 and trekked to Everest Base Camp for my 60th birthday in 2011. Everest was hard, but I found Kilimanjaro more challenging. That’s the one I’m proudest of.
With Milton Mountaineers, I’ve climbed the highest mountain in each UK nation: Ben Nevis, Snowdon [Yr Wyddfa], Scafell Pike and Slieve Donard. We’ve just had a holiday in County Kerry, where I recalled climbing Carrauntoohil – the highest mountain in Ireland.
Our sighted guides are great! I don’t need a running commentary, but I like my guide to describe surroundings. Having been sighted as a child, I can imagine the scene. Our guides find points of interest such as tree bark or moss and say: ‘Come and feel this.’
I can soon tell if someone will be a good guide. If they ask me, ‘Would you like to take hold of my elbow?’ I instantly feel relaxed. Whereas someone else might just grab my elbow, or I can feel their arm shaking with nerves. Some sighted people worry they’ll say the wrong thing: ‘Look over there’ or ‘Did you see that TV show?’ I don’t mind – I use the same language! The biggest annoyance is a guide constantly apologising: ‘I’m sorry you can’t see this, but…’
About 2 million people in the UK have impaired sight and around 320,000 are registered blind, so it’s great that the Ramblers is trying to make walking more accessible. The more people that can be included, the better. If anyone can go out with their local group, provided they’re fit enough to do the walk, well, that’s the true meaning of inclusion, isn’t it?
My Walk of Life - Louisa Adjoa Parker
Lifelong walker Louisa was devastated when a chronic fatigue condition took away her connection to nature. She writes movingly about reconnecting with the natural world and learning to live with her illness.
My walk of life – Dianne Maclean Whiting
When Dianne arrived in Britain knowing no one except her partner, joining the Ramblers gave her the perfect way to explore her new homeland and make friends en route.