The first time I heard a poem by Simon Armitage, I was in our shared homeland, Yorkshire. I was in a year ten English class and I very clearly remember the moment, because prior to that moment, I had never heard or read any poem that sounded like me, or related to my life in any way. It was somewhat of a revelation, and I have to confess to having an emotional predilection to Armitage since that moment. Needless to say, I very much enjoyed his previous book Walking Home, in which he walked the Pennine Way backwards ending up in his Yorkshire hometown in the North of the country.

Walking Away follows a similar tread. Armitage walks along the south-west coast of England, taking no money but supporting himself through poetry readings and the kindness of strangers, only this time, how will he fare away from home turf? Pretty much the same, to be entirely honest. There are certainly differences, and Armitage himself is consistent in his opinion that whilst the walk is beautiful, it’s no Pennine Way, but that really isn’t the point.

The heart of this book is the gentle humour of the character observations along the way. Armitage is affectionate in his descriptions, but forthright, and his father’s repeated phone calls are a highlight. Armitage seems amused by his father’s own amusement at the walk, and the result is sweetly entertaining. His frank storytelling is at its best when tackling his own awkwardness and embarrassment, including his irrational fears whilst spending the night in a witchcraft museum. It’s beautifully written, poetic, but in a manner far more akin to Armitage’s own blunt style than the flowery images that the word ‘poetry’ projects. Walking Away rolls along at a pace far more relaxing than the walk it describes.

Isobel Moore