That question comes up a lot when I tell people that I walk for upwards of 8 hours each day. The other question is “what is the biggest problem you have” or “what is the best / worst thing to happen”. Graham Mack never seems to tire of asking me these questions when he calls me each week for the breakfast show on TFM so I’ll try to answer them here for those who don’t live in the broadcast area.
The thinking thing varies. A lot of the time I’m thinking about blog posts, and how I can relay to you lot on here and on the tour blog how I’m doing and what it’s all like. Sometimes I’m thinking how much further I can walk in the damn rain until I reach shelter of have to unpack a waterproof. I confess that a lot of the time I do still think about “the ex” and how it all fell apart and what minuscule fraction of a percentage chance I have of getting back with her and if there is genuinely a number that close to zero as to actually exist.
I think about what I’m looking at, how far I have to go and how much my shoulders hurt. My feet don’t hurt too much any more - thanks to all who keep asking! I think about the kids in Vietnam. I know this sounds “obvious” or maybe a little soppy but they really do keep me going. That’s what the walk’s about and I do spend a few minutes here and there remembering the little blighters making a complete fool of me at football. And beating me at Jenga. And being cheeky. And tickling me.
Hey, why am I helping them again? 
Right now I’m so close to my goal that I have that annoying, aching, “so far but not quite” feeling. One entire hemisphere of my brain seems to be having the same effect of a busload of 7-year-olds all screaming “are we there yet!?” behind a driver who’s taken them from Bognor Regis to Bratislava. I am so near, but still have just a little bit too far to go to feel complete relief yet. It’s almost a physical pull in the chest. Imagine that feeling you get around 3pm on a Friday afternoon when you have the best weekend in the world lined up but you can’t leave till 5:30. Now magnify.
I have also tried counting steps and comparing them to my pedometer to see if 1 mile on there really matches 1.6km on the road, but my stride and its reckoning are out. Or I lose count. But it does while away the time. If my mind wanders in unexpected directions I dig out my notebook and jot some things down. These random brain dumps often make their way into blog postings somewhere.
What are my problems? One is the above - thinking about Louise far too often. Well, you asked. Another is how sick I’m getting of camping. From now on it is reserved purely for festivals! I may relax this rule should I ever get or have to look after kids. That could be fun. But I’ll have an inflatable mattress if I ever camp again. I’m sure I’ve permanently bruised my hip bone. My feet are as fine as can be expected after the agony and disfigurement around Turin. They ache a bit and I sometimes get blisters (I think the pair of socks I wear actually makes a difference) but nothing serious. My shoulders also aren’t as bad as they were, but are still the most frequent excuse for me to stop for a break.
As for the “best / worst” things… Tough. The worst was the pain when I got to Turin, or perhaps losing a load of pictures and video when my camera’s memory card fritzed. The best was probably getting to the top of the mountain pass in the Gran Paradiso two hours behind schedule and not dying. Or meeting and being hosted by such amazing people. None of them knew me from that guy in chapter one of the Bible. You know, the one with the apple fetish. Yet every one opened their doors, fold-down sofas and larders to the mad Englishman with the smelly feet.
If you’ve yet to host me and I’m heading your way, please ignore the bit about smelly feet.
I hope that answers some of your questions. Like I said, those are the most common ones. If you have any more, click on the comments button and ask, ask, ask!