This season’s Substack is already brimming with news and curiosities, so let’s begin…

Earlier this month, I set out with fellow Landgirls walker and gardener Steph Crosse. We headed to explore the ancient mounds of Priddy for an upcoming hike later in April. Fog hung low, softening the edges of everything, and the idea of Spring felt far, far away. Weeks later, we are now washed in wide, open blue skies. A reminder of how quickly everything can shift and that it’s perfectly okay when it does.

Over recent months, I’ve been paying closer attention to my own internal weather. I continue in my approach of: accept the mess, sit in it, put the kettle on, and then decide where energy is best spent, which moments matter, which environments restore, and what is worth carrying forward into spring.

I’ve been trying, too, to build self-competence, to feel a little more at ease in the unfamiliar. Weekly pottery classes at St Anne’s House in Bristol have become part of that. Anything of substance is shaped through repetition and through a willingness to be a beginner. There’s no shortcut to it. Achievement arrives, but only through time given properly and slowly.

The pottery, the walks, the act of bringing people together, these are the threads shaping the year ahead for me. In paying attention to these small shifts, there are moments where presence arrives, briefly, but enough. And sometimes, if the timing is right, a sense of rhythm begins to form, even within the everyday noise.

This spring, I want to take proper notice of what’s already here to recognise it, rather than rush past it and to move through things with a sense of kindness, warmth, and a little more emotional awareness.

There’s a pull, too, towards staying practical. Keeping my feet on the ground while holding on to a clear sense of self, especially when it comes to work and the decisions that shape it.

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Lore of the Land

In the soft, awakening light of Ostara, the valley of St Catherine’s Brook in Bath whispers of a woman both fierce and learned. Catherine of Alexandria. She stands at the crossroads of history and myth. Her story reaches us through fractured medieval texts: a noblewoman, a scholar, a challenger of emperors, condemned to a spiked wheel that shattered at her touch.

The wheel, broken yet enduring, becomes both symbol and talisman, a testament to resilience and courage. And as spring returns, the narrative of resilience, renewal, and the enduring power echo of the woman behind the Landscape.

In Legenda, our book of the month, Janina Ramirez turns a sharp, discerning eye on the lives of medieval women such as Catherine, uncovering how their stories have been steadily reshaped across centuries.

Women like Joan of Arc, Lady Godiva, and Isabella of Castile have been repeatedly recast, their stories bent to suit shifting agendas, simplified, distorted, and at times weaponised. Meanwhile, the pioneering women of the 19th century, who carved out space for themselves, have too often faded from view, their achievements sidelined and their legacies quietly diminished.

Janina Ramirez, as always, does an outstanding job of questioning and highlighting these women’s stories with a well-rounded lens.

Upcoming Walks

The recent Ostara walk along St Catherine’s Brook is now fully booked, though a waitlist remains open. (DM me to be notified of a space).

Up with the Lark, Smallcombe Nuttery — 12th April BOOK HERE
An early start, shaped by birdsong, blossom, coffee & pastries.

Bluebells & Barrow Mounds, Priddy — 25th April BOOK HERE
Our first long half-day hike crosses older ground, where traces of what came before remain.

Landgirls & Friends

Upcoming Collaborations

Jessica Stokes: FLOWER & LAND
Wild Solstice: The Secret Language of Plants and Flowers
Saturday 16th May, Wellow, Bath

Jessica Stokes work with plants feels almost inherited, shaped early on in her grandfather’s rose garden, and later refined through a first-class degree in Textile Design, RHS qualifications, and years spent in organic walled gardens. Now working as a gardener, floral designer, and freelance writer for publications such as House & Garden and The Simple Things, her approach centres on seasonality, sustainability, and a close attention to the natural world.

This May, she will co-host Wild Solstice - a sensory walk through Wellow, celebrating the abundance of the local landscape and the quieter language of plants and flowers.

The Bird of Prey Project
Festival of Nature: Under Open Skies

In collaboration with The Bird of Prey Project, this Festival of Nature walk begins at the centre before following nearby paths towards Whistle Copse Byway, with expansive views across the Bath landscape.

The walk returns to the Centre for tea and cake, and a bird of prey flying display, an opportunity to learn more about their care, behaviour, and conservation.

Bookings will be available soon. For now, please save the dates!

Got an Idea?

Collaboration and community sit at the heart of Landgirls.

If you’re a local creative, educator, enthusiast or organisation with an idea that brings people together outdoors, it would be lovely to hear from you. From community walks, workshops, talks, and seasonal gatherings, there is always room to build something thoughtful, together.

Get in touch

We were a gathering of familiar strangers in damp layers. Biscuits changed hands. A flask was unstoppered. Cups of tea passed carefully between us. No one complained. There was a shared decision to stay cheerful, even as the weather tested our resolve.

All that I have is this river, I thought. Rivers are meant to carry things away. I had been thinking of that in a seasonal sense, the neatness of it, the idea of winter giving way to spring. Lord, take me away, as the song goes.

Lately, here in the South West, the rivers seem to be doing something else entirely. Fields have become lakes, footpaths soften, roads disappear. Boundaries blur and muddy.

In February, we like to imagine that winter has magically passed by swiftly, that it is time to begin shedding – not only scarves and gloves, but habits, moods, ways of being that feel heavy and weary. To purge, spring clean, organise, and prepare. Please, help me build a small boat… I find myself humming now. One that will ride on the flow.

The water reminds me it’s okay not to rush from one season to the next… You may overflow, outrun your boundaries. You may need to drift for a while before you know where you’re heading.

After all, it is still winter.

Looking around at this soggy, bright-eyed group of women, I forget about the rain for a moment. Walking in the same direction, sharing stories, being together without it feeling forced. We are glad of what keeps us afloat.

We finished the loop with damp socks, pink noses, and plans for drying everything on radiators.

Winter is not over. The land is saturated, the rivers restless, and so are we.

Washed out.

But it is losing its authority; it feels faint around the edges. By the time I get home, I’m ready to sink into a hot, deep bath, to let the water sustain me rather than carry me away.

Two restless impulses stir within me: The urge to distract myself and the urge to reinvent myself. Both feel urgent and necessary, but both drain me faster than I realise. I scroll, binge-watch, overcommit, rearrange, sign up for things, and purchase a treadmill.

Dormancy is a season of low light; Perhaps the wisest thing to do is stop trying quite so hard to achieve a version of myself only for the sake and reassurance of other people's approval.

Instead, I started to notice the smallest of sparks: short walks, welshcakes, lighting candles at breakfast, a hot toddy to fend off winter flu, reading in bed. I joined Borrow My Dog, and I highly recommend it. A cuppa tea with your sixty-year-old neighbour can be more sustaining than any forced date because it comes with no great expectations - and a dog called Mr Tumnus.

Midwinter asks for patience, not performance. Not every thought has a solution, not every ache needs an action to soothe it. Sometimes the real work is to sit in it. Letting the fog move around you, letting the quiet settle, letting it do its subtle work on you. That, perhaps, is the truest gift you can give yourself this season.

As Christmas and New Year approach, I leave you with this: It is almost time to look to the light, but this time, perhaps not for guidance - or to follow a path forward. No, perhaps, we stay still and instead do something different: We use light as our alignment. For the small reassurance that we are staying true and in tune with ourselves.

Like the stones of Stonehenge, let the sun come to us.

Dormancy is a quiet word. It gives the impression of stillness, of something curled into itself… paused, suspended, resting.

Anyone who has ever watched a garden through Winter knows this is far from the truth.

Dormancy is preparation. Waiting patiently but not idly, it’s an unseen shuffling, a slow gathering of strength, that private and hard work that happens long before any fruition shows itself.

We fall into these dormant periods; it can be by choice, often by necessity, and sometimes because the rug was swept out from beneath us without warning.

These stretches leave us with no option but to sit in the present moment and gently process what the hell just happened. And though they don’t always arrive in Winter, darker months make them easier to recognise: fewer invitations to outrun ourselves, more room for the quiet we’ve been avoiding.

But what happens when thinking becomes circling? When quiet grows stale? When dormancy begins to edge into stagnation?

When I find myself in these moments of quiet despair, I tend to turn to books for solace. Many, many books. And through reading, I can connect my thoughts and find structure again. I need collective ideas to make sense of my own.

Lately, I’ve been reading Bad Therapy by Abigail Shrier, which interrogates our cultural devotion to emotional excavation. She warns that introspection can turn indulgent; naming every feeling may slide into rumination; and the pursuit of healing can shrink our world if we disappear too far inside it. As someone with anxious-leaning tendencies, I know intimately how reflection can become a labyrinth.

I’ve also been dipping into Bristolian author Nathan Filer’s This Book Will Change Your Mind About Mental Health. Filer reminds us that distress is not just a problem of the individual, but it’s entangled with relationships, society, inequality, trauma, and the stories we tell about ourselves.

Together, these two books gesture toward a truth:
Healthy introspection isn’t endless self-interrogation, nor is healing something we can force in isolation.

Not every knot can (or should be) untangled alone. Some require witnesses, companions, collective effort of a community. Some require that we stop pathologising perfectly human reactions to difficult circumstances.

So across the next two months, I’ll share learnings from my own season of dormancy. An experiment in resting without disappearing, reflecting without spiralling, and seeking growth without mistaking it for relentless self-work.

With any luck, something within this experiment may offer you tools for steadiness in your own harder moments.

Whatever season it arrives in.

Amy
Landgirls

Group walks are to return in the New Year.

Over the past few weeks, I found myself walking closely alongside someone, spending honest, regular time with them. And while our time together is warm and light, I didn’t fully realise how noisy I’d become inside.

It was only once I’d stepped back, when we weren’t messaging, meeting, or planning things, that I noticed something uncomfortable: I’d stopped really hearing them.

In the stillness, I began to recalibrate. I saw that they’d been sending quiet signals. Soft, careful mentions of stress, of being pulled in several directions. But I’d been too wrapped in my anxiousness, caught in my head and thoughts, to properly tune in.

I wasn’t unkind or uncaring. But I wasn’t fully present either.

I’d stopped listening.

In Hark, Alice Vincent reflects on the act of truly listening, which is not just to people, but to memory, to silence, to ourselves. She writes about attunement. And I think that’s it. I hadn’t lost care; I’d just lost attunement.

That realisation came to me, perhaps predictably, on a walk. Alone. No music, no distractions. I let my thoughts wander, drifting to the rhythm of my steps. And I found myself asking: had I been listening with the kind of attention I would want in return?

Not always. But I could begin again.

So here’s what I’ve learned: these are not as rules to follow, but invitations:

• Pause. Sometimes, someone just wants to be witnessed.

• Let silence stretch. It’s not empty. It’s often where the truth lives.

• Be curious, not clever.

• Notice the subtext, the hesitations, the patterns because they hold quiet truths.

Mostly, I’ve learned this: when we truly listen, we remind someone they matter. And when we don’t - even with the best of intentions, we risk missing the very heart of what they’re trying to share.

Which leads me to a question I want to bring to our walks:

As a community, have we lost the art of listening?

Have we become so focused on sharing, producing, and responding quickly that we’ve forgotten how to sit with someone else's story, without rushing to add our own?

The next two Landgirls walks will gently explore this idea: how we actively listen in our communities, how we can relearn to respond with meaning, and how we might be heard in return.

We won’t need to fix or solve anything. Just walk, reflect, and begin again.

If you’re out on a walk this week with a friend, or with yourself, maybe leave the headphones at home. Let the world speak to you a little. You might be surprised by what you hear.

The Packhorse Loop & Keg Run Saturday 12th July
BOOK HERE
A light ramble through the hills surrounding South Stoke, finishing up back at The Packhorse community pub for those who fancy staying on for the Keg Run in the afternoon. It’s optional, but makes for a lovely day out if you’ve the time.

Kelston Round Hill Sunday 3rd August
BOOK HERE
A circular walk with wide skies, open fields, and the kind of views that make you stop without realising. A steady loop from The Old Crown, best enjoyed slowly and with a cuppa tea and slice of cake.

With Care,
Amy

There’s a comfort in someone just being there and not offering advice, not trying to smooth everything over with life-affirming quotes. Just... being. Existing. Making you tea. Rambling about the odd thing that happened on their walk. Sending you a picture of a rose bush that’s finally doing something after years of sulking.

Recently, I found myself saying something to a friend that had been quietly forming in my brain for months:
“You’re most helpful when you’re not trying to be.”

They paused. Took it in. Smiled in that way that says, “I heard that.”

And it’s true, isn’t it?

Some of the people who steady us most don’t do it with pep talks or problem-solving. They do it by simply being present in their usual, slightly quirky, incredibly human way. By continuing to talk about sandwiches or running or the unexpected behaviour of their rose bush, all while your insides are in a bit of a muddle. That calm, everyday normalcy… It's quietly heroic.

The people who don’t rush in with answers or perform helpfulness, but instead offer their real selves. Maybe a bit crumpled, slightly distracted, clumsy yet kind at heart. They’re the ones that accidentally keep us afloat.

Just by showing up for tea, cake, to sit in the garden and to have a little natter about nothing in particular.

And, if I may gently turn the mirror back on myself. I’d like to listen to my own advice here.

I feel like I could be a better friend in return by stopping myself from constantly trying to fix everything. Letting things unfold. Trusting the quiet. Holding space for others instead of filling it with solutions.

So, if you ever feel like you have to try harder to be the friend, the partner, the person who fixes things, stop.

You’re probably already helping, just by showing up.
You, as you are, might be doing more than you realise.

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about how we make decisions. Sometimes we think stepping away from things means walking out altogether or giving something up completely, but often it’s more nuanced than that. As Marie Kondo reminds us, it’s really about moving towards joy. And sometimes it takes a little distance to see the joy and kindness that was right there, in front of us all along.

Learning to trust my intuition has been an ongoing process. It’s not easy. It doesn’t come with a neat plan of action. It’s more like a soft current or an internal pull that rarely makes immediate sense. Because of that, it’s easy to dismiss it. We mistake it for fear, self-doubt, especially when it asks us to let go of things we’ve cherished or worked hard to build.

In times like this, I’ve found that staying gently busy helps.

This past week, I’ve focused on small, grounding routines: preparing garden beds, making simple meals that feel like rituals, heading out on early walks before the rest of the world stirs. I haven’t been chasing answers; instead, by creating these active meditations into my day, I can begin to hear what’s underneath the noise and respond accordingly with alignment and kindness.

Lately, life’s been inviting me down paths I haven’t walked before. I don’t know where they lead yet. I can’t map it out. But for once, I’m not rushing to figure it all out. I’m not trying to force a plan or explain my way through. I’m just following that quiet signal - that internal sat-nav that doesn’t need to justify itself.

It simply says, “Turn left here.”

So I do.

Upcoming Walks

Solsbury Hill Golden Hour: A Summer Solstice Walk 21st June
BOOK HERE
We’ll be walking up Solsbury Hill as the longest day begins to fold into golden evening. This is a place woven with history and myth, a gentle climb that rewards you with sweeping views and space to breathe. To mark the midsummer solstice, we’ll raise a glass of elderflower fizz and welcome a little warmth and kindness into the fading light.

Browns Folly Woodland Meander 29th June
BOOK HERE
A slow and steady morning wander, inspired by the recent exhibition 'Meander' by Stanley Donwood on Walcot Street. We will go through the woods, where light dapples through the green canopies and time seems to soften and slow.

The Packhorse Loop & Keg Run 12th July
BOOK HERE
A light ramble through the hills surrounding South Stoke, finishing up back at The Packhorse community pub for those who fancy staying on for the Keg Run in the afternoon. It’s optional, but makes for a lovely day out if you’ve the time.

Kelston Round Hill 3rd August
BOOK HERE
A circular walk with wide skies, open fields, and the kind of views that make you stop without realising. A steady loop from The Old Crown, best enjoyed slowly and with a cuppa tea and slice of cake.


What to Bring
Sturdy footwear – walking boots are ideal
Weather-appropriate clothing – layers and waterproofs if needed
A keep-cup for coffee
Water
Snacks
Sunscreen
Notebook, sketchbook, or camera – if you'd like to capture the moment

Friends, dogs, and family members are welcome to join.

Guidance And Etiquette For Walkers 2025 (1)

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There’s a quiet bravery in beginning again - not the kind that makes a fuss or calls for a clean slate, but the kind that arrives quietly, almost unnoticed.

Starting over doesn’t have to mean dramatic change. Sometimes, after a long week, it’s as simple as making a proper breakfast, buying the tulips with the weekly shop, or heading out for a walk with no purpose but the walking itself.

My own reset didn’t come with a plan. No resolutions, no grand purpose. Just a pair of walking boots and the strong sense that I needed to tread a different landscape.

Things became clearer. The noisy, spiralling thoughts softened, making space for something slower, something steadier. That inner voice, the one that knows best, began to speak more clearly, given half a chance.

This isn’t about reinvention. It’s about tending to the everyday. Creating small, grounding rituals that help you look up, out, and gently inwards.

If you’re feeling tired at the end of the week, for whatever reason, perhaps that’s the sign you need. Take the next right turn. Let your feet lead you… Ideally, to a spot beneath an oak tree, with a flask of tea and a stunning view.

Over the next few posts, I’ll be sharing how I’m starting to navigate change. Not with urgency or big ideas, but with quiet attention and care. It’s not a roadmap. More of a gentle record of finding my footing and the hope that it might help someone else find theirs.

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April was a month for stepping back, for leaning outward and onward, for slipping quietly into a new season.

When I made the move West I hardly paused for thought. The only hesitation, strangely, was a faint unease at the idea of being landlocked. I could not quite place it. My twenties had unfolded in the wide sprawl of London. But now in my thirties, I’ve grown used to finding my way to the waters edge. In London, I became quietly drawn to the Thames, tracing its path down to the marshes and the pebbled shores of Kent. I would sit amongst the feathered grass and reeds, listening for the tide, listening for the rare sound of nightingales returning.

This April I felt it again, a pull I could not ignore. I needed the sound of the shore, a way to step through winter’s threshold into something fresher, something wider. I headed to Dorset, to Studland, to Swanage, to Lulworth Cove and on to Durdle Door, that rocky archway like something from a children’s storybook, a portal to a wilder world where adventure and magic may be sought.

Now May approaches and with it May Day and Beltane, the old festival of greenwood mischief and wild abundance. Having taken stock of April, having spring cleaned our homes and spirits, I invite you to join a small moment of celebration. A quiet marking of the passage through the colder months.

This walk is about immersing ourselves in the valley, letting the green rise up around us. We will pass along the waterways and through an ancient peaceful wood that has stood untouched for many years. Here the ground is thick with a great carpet of wild garlic and the trees, old ash coppice and towering oaks, hold the memory of centuries.

May Day Walk – Final Details
This walk is now fully booked.

On the 10th May, we will walk from Bath, winding through valleys and alongside rivers, feeling the land’s slow pulse beneath our feet. We'll pause at the Hop Pole Inn for a swift half and a packet of crisps, before pressing on to the Green Man Festival in the heart of Bradford-on-Avon.

This is a one-way pilgrimage. Transport details below.

Meeting Point:
Gather Café, Batheaston, Bath, BA1 7NB

End Point:
Tithe Barn, Bradford-on-Avon

Timings:
Meet at: 9:30 AM
Walk duration: Approx. 3 hours 30 minutes
Difficulty: Easy-Intermediate (gentle route, longer distance)

Getting There:
Arriving at: Gather Café, Batheaston, Bath, BA1 7NB
Short bus ride from Bath city centre to Stambridge (routes D1x / 3 / 231 / X83)
There is a public car park opposite.

Returning from Bradford-on-Avon:

20min - D1x bus directly back to Bath city centre (and goes back to Stambridge, Batheaston starting point if you have parked there.)

Or a 15-minute train journey from Bradford-on-Avon station

What to Bring:

• Sturdy comfortable footwear

• Water

• Sunscreen

• Camera (if you’d like to capture the moment)

Cancellations:
Please let me know by the day before if you are unable to make it.

🌿 Next Walk Announcement: 🌿

Landgirls x Rambling Hearth Sauna at Warleigh Weir
A very special gathering with limited spaces. Please join us for a short ramble ending with wild sauna bathing at beautiful Warleigh Weir on Sunday 18th May. I will send out a separate email shortly with all the details.

Any questions, please email/DM or reach out to me via the community WhatsApp group.

Best wishes,
Amy
Landgirls
landgirlsgowalking@gmail.com

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The sunshine has arrived and the first signs of spring are creeping in - the daffodils are peeking out, the birds are getting noisier, and the air feels just that little bit softer.

What better way to welcome the season than with a peaceful walk in the heart of nature, with good company, and a cuppa with a view?

On Sunday 16th and Saturday 29th March, we’ll be heading up through Primrose Woodlands to mark the Spring Equinox, a time of renewal, balance, and the first true stirrings of the season. This month’s theme? Rewilding - not just for the landscapes around us, but for ourselves, too.

A Hidden Gem on the Northern Slopes of Bath

Nestled on the northern slopes of Bath, Primrose Woodlands offers spectacular views of both the city and the surrounding countryside. It’s a serene escape just a stone’s throw from the bustle of urban life below. The community woodland is a place to reconnect with nature, to slow down, breathe deeply, and soak in the beauty of the changing seasons.

Rewilding Our Hearts
We explore the idea that - to step into wild spaces is to step into something greater than ourselves - a process of unlearning, and softening. As we walk through Primrose Woodlands, we carry our stories with us, reflecting on our own relationship with nature and the ways in which we, too, can rewild.

The Walk Details

As we wander, we’ll pause to notice the subtle changes and enjoy the sweeping views across Bath and beyond. It’s really rather magical if you’ve not been before. An opportunity to reset, shake off the last remnants of winter, and drink in the fresh, spring air.

This walk is about more than just physical movement - it’s about reawakening our senses and connecting with the land.

Confirm your place: Please book below and email or message me to confirm names if you wish to bring any +1’s along. (numbers at the bottom of the email)

Book Sunday 16th March HERE

Book Saturday 29th March HERE

(If you have already emailed me asking to join a walk, I will add you to the list manually)

Meeting Point: Outside the Hare & Hounds pub (Lansdown Rd, Bath BA1 5TJ) Park at the pub or by the woodland entrance (Bottom of Fonthill Road, past the school.) (Location for parking) Bus 31 (Saturday walk only).

Meet at: 9:30 AM / Aim to return by 11:30AM
Duration: Approx. 1hr 35m (this is not including post walk excursion to Beckford Tower, which is optional on the 16th March only and estimated to finish by 12:30pm)
Difficulty: Easy - however, expect some steeper sections, and it may be slippery and muddy. in sections. So waterproof boots are necessary. (part of the route may change depending on weather and ground conditions).
Cancellations: Please let me know by the day before if for any reason you cannot make the walk.

What to Bring

• Sturdy footwear – walking boots or wellies. (It could be VERY muddy.)

• A keep-cup for coffee.

• Notebook, sketchbook, or camera – if you'd like to capture the moment

Landgirls Walks & Post-Walk Excursion to Beckford’s Tower

Landgirls walks are free. However, on 16th March, there will be an optional post-walk excursion to climb Beckford’s Tower which may incur a small entry fee. If you have a residents pass, there is a 25% discount, and BPT members can enter for free.

If you wish to attend the post-walk adventure - please email me landgirlsgowalking@gmail.com and you can find out more here: Beckford’s Tower.

Keeping in Touch

The Landgrirls Whatsapp Community is best place to connect with other Landgirls and get the latest updates. You can join HERE.

See you out there!

Amy
Landgirls
landgirlsgowalking@gmail.com
07716941431

Guidance And Etiquette For Walkers 2025

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What a wonderful start to Landgirls! Our first walk set the tone beautifully - a big thank you to everyone who joined and embraced the crisp midwinter air.

We plan to do it all again for our second walk on Friday, 23rd February, once again inviting space for reflection, connection, and inspiration. If you couldn’t make the first one, this is a perfect chance to join in. And if you did, I’d love to see you again!

I’ve attached the route/map HERE.

Confirm your place: Please reply with confirmation of your attendance. And confirm names - if you wish to bring a +1’s along.

We’ll be walking Solsbury Hill, a place rich in history and folklore, marking the seasonal shift of Imbolc - a time of renewal, gentle awakenings, and the first stirrings of spring. Expect sweeping views, crisp air, and a steady but rewarding climb.

Keeping in Touch

A Whatsapp Community is being set up for you all to stay in touch more easily post walks. So, if you’d like to join that, please include your mobile number when you confirm your attendance and I can add you to the community group.

I’ll be sharing updates, route changes, and future walks via an email newsletter and Whatsapp Community Group. If you have any questions, feel free to email or DM me on Instagram @landgirlsgowalking.

Walk Details

Meeting Point: Outside Gather Café, Batheaston (parking opposite + bus route No. 3 runs from town center on a Sunday.
Meet at: 9:30 AM / Aim to return by 11:00 AM
Duration: Approx. 1hr 15m
Difficulty: Easy – however, expect some steeper sections, which could be slippery if wet.
Cancellations: Please let me know by the day before if for any reason you cannot make the walk. You can call my mobile (see bottom of email) if you're running late but on route.

What to Bring

• Sturdy footwear – walking boots or wellies recommended

• Warm layers

• A keep-cup

• Notebook, sketchbook, or camera – if you'd like to capture the moment

See you out there!

Amy
Landgirls
landgirlsgowalking@gmail.com
07716941431

Guidance And Etiquette For Walkers 2025

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Welcome – I’m so glad to have you here!

These first two walks (2nd and 23rd Feb) are a chance to explore, reflect, and gather ideas on what Landgirls could become.

I’m also in conversations to create hosted walks in collaboration with local businesses and initiatives - more on that soon!

These first walks will also mark Imbolc, the ancient Celtic festival of renewal, growth, and awakening. A time to notice the first stirrings of spring, set quiet intentions, and honour the changing season. Solsbury Hill is a fitting place for this, steeped in history and folklore. Its name may come from Sulis, the Celtic goddess of the thermal springs in Bath, making it the perfect spot to honour Imbolc's Goddess - Brigid, celebrating landscape, poetry and returning light.

The route is simple but beautiful, chosen to work with the winter weather. As we reach the summit, expect steep and possibly slippery sections—if it rains, it could be tricky underfoot. With any luck, the skies will be clear. But you’re the hardy ones—the Landgirls who embrace the crisp, blustering midwinter mornings, ready for whatever the season brings.

I’ve attached the route/map HERE.

Confirm your place: Please reply with confirmation of the walk you'd like to attend or both. And confirm names - if you wish to bring a +1.

Walk Details

Meeting Point: Outside Gather Cafe, Bathampton, (parking opposite + bus routes D1x / 3 /13/ 231/ 228 from town centre to Stambridge)

Meet at: 9:30 AM / Aim to return by 11:00 AM
Duration & Distance: Approx. 1hr 15m (but we’ll take our time, stopping for quiet moments along the way)
Pace & Difficulty: Easy: Gentle & suitable for all fitness levels

Cancellations: Please let me know by the day before if for any reason you cannot make the walk. You can call my mobile (see bottom of email) if you're running late but on route.

What to Bring

Sturdy footwear – Walking boots or wellies recommended over trainers.
Layers & weather-appropriate clothing – It’ll be cold and possibly windy - so consider a headband or hat and gloves
Water & personal essentials and a keep-cup for coffee.
A sketchbook or camera, if you'd like to capture the moment.

Health & Safety & Walkers etiquette

Please note: I will have a basic first aid kit with me. I’m also a fully trained first aider. If you have any medical conditions that may affect your walk, please let me know before confirming the walk.

Please find attached a guidance and etiquette form, please read before confirming the walks.

Staying Connected

I’ll be sharing updates, route changes, and future walks via an email newsletter. If you have any questions, feel free to reply here or DM me on Instagram (@landgirlsgowalking).

I can’t wait to walk with you and grow this community together.

See you out there!

Amy
Landgirls
landgirlsgowalking@gmail.com
07716941431

Guidance And Etiquette For Walkers 2025

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