Walking 70 miles in seven days round the Isle of Wight

Martyn Allen, aged 55 from Bridport, was diagnosed with stage 3 bowel cancer in 2015. He shares with us his incredible challenge of walking the Isle of Wight Coastal-Loop Walk challenge – a mere 70 miles in seven days in July 2022.

Seven years ago, aged 48, I was diagnosed with stage 3 bowel cancer. My world changed overnight. The emotional fallout from that was very difficult for myself and my family. An anterior resection followed, along with the removal of 15 lymph nodes, two of which showed signs of cancer.

Post-surgery issues and an inability to tolerate the chemotherapy, all whilst struggling and juggling with employment, led to significant physical and mental health problems.

A year prior to diagnosis, I had started walking occasional sections of the South West Coast Path (SWCP). Skip to the surgery, subsequent issues and associated implications of an anastomotic stricture and nerve damage, and I couldn’t even drive let alone walk any distance.

After nine months of set-backs and three dilatations, there were signs of some increased mobility, although toilet issues and abdominal pain were, and continue to be, an issue. However, I was still determined to carry on walking the SWCP. It gave me a focus.

I’ve always loved looking over maps, planning walks and discovering new and interesting places. Walking with family and friends helped me enormously. I have a map of SW England on the wall covered in black ink, with the dates of each section walked, from where to where, and with whom. It’s a record not only of the five and half years it took me to complete the SWCP, but also a nod to the wonderful people that helped me achieve it.

Of course, it was not without its challenges. For those who experience Anterior Resection Syndrome, the anxiety alone can be hugely debilitating, and the worry of not being able to plan loo stops can be overwhelming. Add to that brain-fog, the pulling of scar tissue, nerve damage and constant fatigue, and that’s before even starting to walk. I also lost a friend and colleague to this very same thing around this time.

I did find some things that helped a bit. Medication can help with the loo situation to some extent. But it’s a fine line between zero bowel control and dangerous constipation. I ended up in A&E one time because of this. I found that carrying a RADAR key helps reduce anxiety a little, as we don’t all have the luxury of turning down public toilets. I also keep a Macmillan toilet card with me that explains to someone about my situation due to cancer treatment (without having to verbalise everything), as a request to use their loo. As we know, not all disabilities are visible and it’s easy for people who see you out and about to assume you are fit and healthy. I enrolled with the NHS for some useful counselling. I kept a food-diary and consulted their dieticians to try to help, however, with little success. I am extremely grateful that my local town has a superb Cancer Support group (Living Tree) and through various holistic therapies and chatting with people that had similar experiences, they helped me regain some fitness and confidence. I also visited the excellent Penny Brohn centre in Bristol.

So, this year, seven years after surgery, I decided to attempt walking a 70-mile solo coastal-loop of the Isle of Wight over seven days for Bowel Cancer UK. The idea was spawned during lock-down and the challenge planned during the winter months.

I crossed The Solent on the ferry from Lymington to the pretty town of Yarmouth and began walking clockwise around the island. I stayed at the same fantastic campsite each night (near Carisbrooke in the centre of the island) then each morning I drove to the walk end-point, left my car there, and caught busses back to the walk start-point. That way I could take my time walking without worrying about missing a bus at the end of the walk when I was exhausted. I bought a 7-day pass for the great IOW bus network. On the very first day I had a toilet emergency. I was seeking a convenient hedge to hide behind when I stumbled upon Newtown Nature Reserve. Thankfully they have a visitor centre complete with facilities. They also have a programme releasing White-Tailed Eagles which I enjoyed hearing about. Although the sight of the New Forest was not far away, you do feel that you’ve journeyed to another world, across the water. The Solent was awash with boats, large and small all zipping by charting their own courses. I continued on mine. I crossed estuaries on board-walks, lost my cap to an over-zealous bramble, met a herd of cows at Cowes and took welcome shade under trees. 

I did four days of walking, had a planned day off (a stroke of genius on my part) followed by a further three days of walking:

• Yarmouth to Shalfleet
• Shalfleet to East Cowes
• East Cowes to Bembridge
• Bembridge to Ventnor
• Rest Day
• Ventnor to Brighstone
• Brighstone to Tennyson Down
• Tennyson Down to Yarmouth

I can describe walking around the IOW as a mixture of amazing coastal views interspersed with woodlands, some dodgy road sections and crumbling cliffs. It was a worthy challenge for my mediocre level of “fitness”.

My Bowel Cancer UK t-shirt caught the eye of many passing people. Back at the campsite I chatted with the folk who were interested. I actually dispelled a few myths about bowel cancer too.

Each morning I’d repack my rucksack and replenish it with snacks and water. When I was ready to walk, I strapped up my knees, reached for my walking poles and ambled off. I lapped up new bays, the wildlife and shady rest breaks. I took the ‘floating bridge’ ferry across the River Medina to East Cowes. I walked along beaches if the tide was out. I watched hovercraft, helicopters, Hurricanes and Spitfires. I saw red kites, buzzards and giant dragon flies, waded through fields of Marbled White butterflies, watched lizards and gave an apple to a horse. I detoured around short sections of path that were closed. I was certainly exhausted by the time I got back to the campsite each evening where I’d shower, slap on some after-sun and collapse on my bed in my modest shepherd’s hut, sometimes too exhausted to post images and a few words.

I rose later than usual on my ‘day off’, had a leisurely breakfast and chatted with the chickens who scrabbled around for scraps. I did my laundry in the only ‘3-wheelin’ laundrette in the solar-system’, tended my blisters, aches, scrapes and sunburn. By the afternoon I was ready for the short drive to a few places that were off the coast path. I went to the IOW Steam Railway at Haven Street, the only remaining windmill on the island (built around 1700 and later sketched by Turner), and to Bembridge Fort. As I was heading back to the campsite, I passed a sign for a Roman Villa, so I spent a short while there as well.

After a reasonable night’s kip, I felt ready to continue on the second part of the loop. The half way point, in my mind, was at St. Catherine’s. This is the southern-most tip of the island, and site of Britain’s only surviving Medieval lighthouse built in 1328. It came and went in blur of dense woodland below a high scarp, a white-washed ‘modern’ lighthouse (1840), and a mess of tuna and tomato that was my lunch that had escaped its container and leaked into my rucksack. A local cat became quite friendly as a result!

I knew the weather was going to be another hot one. What I wasn’t prepared for was the path being quite that close to the high, fragile, cliff-edges for mile upon mile between Chale and Brighstone, that always felt like it should be moved inland by a few yards. This is the quieter side of Vectis (the ancient name for the IOW) and I didn’t see a soul. It was a bit unsettling, but as the white cliffs at the western end of the island started to appear my mood lifted.

At Tennyson Down I was greeted to a spectacular 360-degree panorama from Dorset in the west to Portsmouth in the East, and from The Solent to the north, to The Channel to the south. The thought of one last push the next day via The Needles (hopefully with a short boat ride) kept me going, although I had started to flag. The weather had been stupidly hot and humid all week, with little breeze. I’d seen sunrises and sunsets; the days were long and I was always bumbling around the campsite long before anyone else had stirred.

The last day did not disappoint. At the far end of Tennyson Down there were superb views over The Needles, and where in the 1950’s secret rockets were tested. At Alum Bay (famed for its multicoloured sands) I got my RIB ride around The Needles. These huge white chalk sentinels were set off spectacularly against the clear blue water. These rocks were joined to Dorset’s ‘Old Harry Rocks’ 10,000 years ago before the melt waters from the last Ice-Age increased the sea-level.

Heading east again, I met up with a couple of Living Tree friends who were on the island. We all went for an invigorating swim at Colwell Bay, and that was just the lift I needed to continue the last few miles to Yarmouth where I’d arrived the week before. The loop was complete.

All in all, a tiring but stunning weeks walking and I managed to keep the sea to my left all the way around.

Thanks go to all who supported me and their welcome encouragement. Together we managed to raise a whopping £2,500. I need to rest now.

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