I’ve not felt right since Coventry. Maybe it was the reconnection with my past and who I was around then that left me feeling sad.

Maybe I’ve had enough of the weather beating down upon me – be it the rain or the sun.

Or maybe it’s that I wince everytime I put my back pack on and no amount of rest seems to change much about how my body feels. My calves ache all the time.

But then I’m not going to lie. This journey has been tough since the day it began. Far tougher than I had thought it would be.

But then there were sweet divine moments – views, conversations with strangers, insights to life – that would lift me up and carry me through the day. I still get those moments, and in fact the last week has been made much easier by those I’ve stayed with (old friends and new), but I miss home and the aches and pains pound away. And this journey must end…

But can I complete?

I’m in Oxford. I’m being well looked after. I had intended to head back on myself from here to Bristol, before the final schlep to south London. I definitely won’t be doing that. My body shudders at the thought.

I could continue walking from here, first to Guildford, and then to Croydon. It’d take less than a week. I think I have that in me.

Or I could just get on the train in Oxford and go back to where I began two months ago? In a matter of hours.

One thing I’ve always struggled with is physical completion. The compulsion to do so. Despite having learnt from this journey what I need to.

Complete in all ways except physically. A point where it would be more difficult to turn tail and go rather than get to where I said I would get to.

But I’m not sure I have the guts to do that…

*** This blog post is part of series of blog posts for my Journey About Home in which I walked from Edinburgh to where I grew up in south London. For an overview of the journey and links to other blog posts I wrote whilst I journeyed go to this page.