A Turbulent Trek

We’re delighted to be hosting excerpts from Totnes icon, Graham Walker’s book, The Turbulent Trek of a Tenacious Tramp over the next few weeks – here’s the first installment:

Life randomly deals everyone their own straw and I suppose, in the scheme of things, I was dealt a woefully short one.
But I have always conveyed and grasped hold of the positive.

There are many out there whose straws are far shorter. This is the tale of a journey on a road that delivered pitfalls, disappointment, challenges and occasionally, tragedy. A journey too though, on occasion, sprinkled with amazing experiences, achievement, fun and many wonderful people. Along with a few not quite so!
An often arduous ‘tramp’ throughout the South West where I sometimes took the wrong turn, a journey where ‘square one’ became a regular haunt. But a journey tempered by the golden thread of humour that I’ve clung to my whole life; humour that, as you will discover, sees me through.

Now 71, my reflections, my memories of this journey are limited to those most profound and the timeline maybe a tad skewed. But in essence, this is my journey; my journey home. Preceding that particular trip is, looking back, a journey just as arduous, but far more damaging and containing very little in the way of fun, achievement or sparkly experiences; my trek through childhood, my route to homelessness. What follows is a brief glimpse of how it actually was. What it is not is a tale of self pity. What it is not is an ‘if only.’ What it is, is one example, a single offering that may explain why some people struggle with life, why some see no option but to walk away, disappear, and why I believe I was, one day, destined to arrive on the streets, homeless.

What does homeless mean to you? In simple terms it, of course, means without a home. What constitutes a home? OK, a guy sleeping rough, perhaps for no reason other than circumstance. Circumstance that has the ability to visit anyone. No family, no friends and locked firmly into the mind-numbing effect of drink or drugs in order to eke out yet one more miserable day. Yes, he would fit ‘comfortably’ in the centre of the homeless spectrum. But there are many behind closed doors whose position, whilst perhaps not life threatening, are nonetheless as miserable, as desperate and as homeless as homeless gets.

What it is not is a tale of self pity
The Turbulent Trek of a Tenacious TrampThe guy sleeping rough is visible. We know he’s there. He may prick our conscience. He may, in some, spark disgust but we are aware of his position. And whilst he may not have the strength or will to help himself, due to his visibility, there’s a hope that in some form, help might come to him. The invisible homeless, those behind their closed doors, whilst not being condemned by passers-by, will rarely receive any offer of help. We are oblivious to their situation.

‘Going home’ for some, is not that at all. It’s going back to a house, flat or bedsit that’s often papered in misery, fear, loneliness. My siblings and I were on the surface ’housed’, but each of us spent a childhood that was homeless. Home; a dwelling place, house, base. These though are simply one dimensional constituents in the equation that makes a home. It’s also somewhere you look forward getting back to. A haven; somewhere you feel secure, comfortable, snug.

The lonely guy who lives in some seedy bedsit having lived most of his life in institutions until ‘care in the community’ knocked him sideways leaving him alone and unsupported.

Homeless! The widow next door, alone, struck with grief beyond words for the man who’s no longer there. Her long days filled staring through a window at a world she’s afraid to re-enter.
Homeless! The guy whose flat’s a cesspit full of take-away corpses and empty vodka bottle dreams.
Homeless! The young teenage girl who lives in middle-class suburbia, roaring fire, over-stacked fridge, holidays abroad and a stepfather who visits her bedroom occasionally.
Homeless! How much would that young girl envy the one with traveller parents, living in the back of a van, itinerant, and to others, homeless, but living a life that is mouth-wateringly rich in guidance, security, happiness and love. ‘Home’, a safe and snug word. Home, more a state of mind than one of being.

So, what follows in future excerpts are a few journals from my journey. I do hope you enjoy them.

Grahams autobiographical memoir can be obtained from his patch when he’s at the bottom of Fore Street and at the East Gate Bookshop further up the High Street.

You can also buy it online from the Totnes Pulse here.