Stranded—10 Days That Changed Our Lives
Stuck in the Catatonia Wilderness
There are certain days, where we feel drawn in a certain direction. Maybe it’s fate playing her cards, maybe it’s some other spiritual force, we’ll never know. There will be no reason, no logical explanation, just an inexplicable urge to follow that road. This time, unknown to us, it would be a time we’d never forget. A time we’d learn so much of what it means to struggle. What it means to be stripped bare of everything we’re so falsely told we need in this life, and what it means to blindly and boldly trust, let go and fall into the safety net of Mother Nature.
As we drove on down fate’s road, hearts full of joy and contentment. We talked about the places we’d just come from and about what we think we’ll come across next. The midday sun was shining reassuringly above us, urging us on. We started to wonder what we’d find at the end of the track. The trees grew thicker and greener and our eyes grew wider. The track became rougher, narrower and more like a forgotten trail. We began to feel a sense of true adventure.We swung around a corner only to find the perfect spot. A little dusty parking area, sheltered by trees, nestled in a dry valley. Between a gap in the woods, was a breathtaking view. Not a town in sight, not even a hint. That’s the way we like it, just us, each other and the wilderness. We set up camp for the night and settled in before exploring the area. We wondered trough the woods coming across old stone refuge huts, long forgotten and beginning to crumble. Sad looking piles of wood that had been left a little too long, taken over by weaving plants and vines. My feet would occasionally get tangled in the mat of short spiky shrubs, that covered the forest floor. No evidence of any recent visitors, not apart from the wild boar. We’d sit up and listen for the calls of deer and other woodland creatures, look for glow bugs in the wood piles and stare at the stars. That night we felt a deep sense of peace, we slept perfectly through the quiet night, undisturbed.
As morning came, we were woken by the birds singing their sweet morning songs, as the light grew from pink to orange and then blue. We slowly shook ourselves out of our dreaming and put the coffee on the stove. That morning felt different, it seemed to linger. There was a certain stillness in the air, that I can’t explain. It was almost as if everything had stopped, anticipating something. Waiting for something. The trees were still and the birds seemed to have fallen silent. I shook the feeling off and we packed away, checked the map and put the keys in the ignition. However, the roar of the engine never broke the lingering silence. Shaun tried again, nothing. We just looked at each other. No words. It took a few moments for the realization and the panic to set in.
“It’s ok,” I tried to reassure myself. “It’s just the starting battery, right? We'll just start it from the leisure battery.”As if anything is ever that simple. We must have tried everything we could think of. We tried to push the van, we tried to charge the battery on our tiny solar panels. We stood staring at the engine, just hoping that the loose wire would catch our eye. We grew tense with anxiety. We began to snap at each other in our frustration. No luck, she just would not start. It looked as though we'd be stuck there until someone comes by, the odds were not looking very hopeful. I began to cry. What if we can’t get out of here? What if no one ever comes? What if it’s too late when they do?
We rummaged through the cupboards with our fingers crossed. We may have calculated enough water for the next morning, a tin of tomatoes, some stale bread, a handful of pasta and single pickled onion. Our choices were beginning to look limited. The nearest town was some six or seven miles away, over the top of the steep ravine. We could walk there or we could try to find a spring. With food running short too, we opted for the village. We strapped our shoes on, grabbed all the empty bottles we could carry and set off up the hill. Trying to ration water, in case of the worse, we took with us only a little bottle half full. We scrambled up the hill, at some parts on our hands and knees, climbing as it steepened. Our thirst growing with every step. When we reached the top, fuzzy headed in the heat, there was a sense of relief. We could see the town now. We must have been half way, and over the hardest part. We stopped to catch our breath and study the landscape. We could barely see the next town, across the planes, at the foot of the mountains. In the opposite direction we could see the ocean, not so far away. We carried on down towards the village.
The village seemed to shrink as we grew nearer, and we began to make out the cracks in the walls and the flaking paint. We starte to fill with dread. No, it can’t be, can it? Have we just hiked to a ghost town, in hope of finding food and water? We began to argue, but in desperation we carried on regardless. Our faces dropped further and further as we wondered through the winding streets. Broken windows and doors that had fallen off their hinges. Old cracked and faded signs above garage doors that had been shut for years. No sign of a soul.
I squealed as I caught sight of a tap, glistening copper in the late afternoon sun. Water! I kept my fingers crossed as I approached it, looked back at Shaun for an anticipating moment before pressing the button. For a moment nothing happened, nothing. I was about to break down, and then gurgling. We held our breath for what seemed like an hour, then gush! I couldn’t help but laugh with relief. We let it run for a while until we were sure it was fresh. We filled every bottle to the top and drank until we could fit no more in.
That moment of joy however, was short lived. As we realised we still had no food, and no food shops for miles and miles. We sat silently in the middle of the abandoned town, wondering how we could ever get around it. We began to walk back throwing crazy ideas at one another.
“We’ll use the bow! We can shoot a pigeon or something!”
“Emily, that bow is just decorative, besides none of us know how to shoot a bow and it’s probably illegal.”
I started to wonder where we’d cross the line when it comes to surviving. Would we really starve for the sake of obeying the law? I wasn’t convinced.
“Maybe we could set a trap!” It’s a thought.
We decided to take a different route back, walking around the valley rather than over the top. It was a longer route, but having at least seven liters of water each on our backs, we didn’t fancy going back up the hill. We chose to preserve as much energy as we could, and took the flattest path. Most of that path was wooded, providing shade that we were desperately thankful for. We made our way around the seemingly endless trail, growing less and less optimistic as we did so. Eventually we fell into silence, I felt like I could break down. It was the unknown I guess, were all afraid of it in one way or another, it’s natural. My feet began to drag along the ground as I lost hope, and as I did so I tripped. I fell face down in the spiky shrubs that covered the woodland floor, and just as I was about to burst into tears, I saw something. I could have sworn it was asparagus. No! Was it?
I picked the small stalk out from amongst the spiny bush and studied it. It was, it was asparagus! I sat up and looked out at the rest of the bushes that carpeted the ground. Each one with its own shoot, sometimes two. Relief filled our bodies and I could see Shaun’s face light up in an instant. We can’t survive forever on just asparagus, but it would sure give us a little bit of energy and bide us some time. We frantically gathered as much as we could carry, my arms were full as I walked on hugging, almost embracing the biggest bunch of green vegetables I'd ever seen.
Back at the van, we prepared to cook some of our freshly foraged find and I found a forgotten bag of rice in the back of the cupboard. Things are looking up! The taste was unlike any I’d ever bought in a supermarket. It was perfectly crunchy, almost creamy and tasted amazing. They say everything tastes a little better when your hungry, but this was different. I dragged out an old empty bottle of pickling vinegar I was saving and we pickled some too.
By the third day, we were growing tired of rice and asparagus and we’d noticed our energy levels starting to drop. There was still no sign of people so we made a brave decision. We’d use what energy we had left, and head towards the sea to see what we could find. The summer before, we’d gorged ourselves on fresh muscles we’d picked from a beach in Brittany. With the taste of those delicious shellfish in our minds, we set off. After a short walk through the woods, the trees opened up and we found ourselves walking across open moorland. A wonderful fragrance filled the air. That smells like rosemary! I snatched up odd branches as I walked past the sweet smelling bushes. Stuffing them into the side pockets of Shaun’s backpack as I skipped along.
The path started to wind and weave back on itself, as it dropped down into the creek. At the bottom we stepped onto a pebbled beach. At the far side I could make out, what looked like a cave. Curiously, in front of the cave, was small brick wall. I peered in, discovering a chimney like hole in the roof, charred with smoke and soot. Next to it, what looked like a homemade concrete pier, battered and broken by the waves.
“Strange,” I thought to myself.
“Someone must have lived here.”
We started to forage around in the little pools for whatever shellfish or crabs we could find. There was no sign of muscles, no oysters, but plenty of winkles. So we wasted no time in filling a bag. As I scoured the beach for pretty bits of sea glass, before we’d head back. I heard Shaun shout from across the beach.
“What?” I shouted back. I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying from across the bay. As I ran towards him, I realised why he was shouting. I began to run faster, as fast as my legs would carry me.
“Samphire! Emily, This rock is covered in samphire.” If only I could explain the joy I felt in that moment. Perhaps it was the relief. Or perhaps it was the realisation that, we don’t need to rely on that commercial, plastic packaged garbage. Look how much the earth has to offer. Sometimes all you need to do is open your eyes and look around you.
We practically skipped home to van, as the evening approached. We laughed and joked with each other about moving to the wild and forgetting about society. We talked about building a log cabin in the middle of nowhere and living off the wild food we could find. That night, I cooked up a meal fit for kings and we lay under the stars with our bellies full and our hearts even more so.
In the days that followed, we found many other edible plants. From wild onions and thyme, to edible mushrooms. We could have spent days like this, maybe even the rest of our lives. When someone finally did come past, we didn’t even jump up to make sure they stopped, and when we got the van running again, we didn’t even leave straight away. We stayed for a few more days, we didn’t want to go. However the inevitable day had to come. We had to get to France in time for the markets.
For the first time in weeks we went into a supermarket, and although we had only been stranded a short time, it felt like we had been away from society for years. We looked at the rows of packaged food, and looked at the money in our hands, and wondered. What are we all doing this for? How have we managed to become so dependant on supermarkets? When did we forget, that before all this, there was just us and The earth?
Those few weeks, truly we’re life changing for us. We learnt so much of what it means to fall back and rely on Mother Nature, and we found that if you just look, she will always provide you with what you need. We live in a society that’s pushed her away, that’s taught us that we don’t need her. As a race we are losing our connection to the earth. The earth that’s cherished and nourished us for thousands of years. Ever since those weeks, we have continued to live closer to nature. We thank her for how she looked after us, in our time of desperation. We’ve continued to forage food whenever we can, instead of buying. I cannot explain the sense of satisfaction I now get from creating a meal from entirely of wild food. We have no fear of becoming stranded anymore. We even stop sometimes, and stay put, pretending, as if we are stranded.
About the Creator
Kader Folles
Hello, my name is Kader. Hopeless Wanderer. Forager. Van-Dweller. Nomad.
I have been living and travelling with no fixed abode for the past 8 years of my life. It's time to share some of my stries with you!
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