She set off from a town ‘not too big and not too small …’ So begin, more or less, the Tales told by WynnAlice, aka our very own wandering Steph Bradley. And here we were, sat in a tea shop in a town ‘not too big and not too small’. It was charming, bustling yet relaxed, and it was market day. It was not Totnes; it was Haye-on-Wye and we were catching up with Steph on our last port of call as we made our way home from our family holidays.

Steph was radiant. Health, happiness and the spirit of someone on a great adventure shone around her. My wife, Melanie, and I were dark-eyed and exhausted, having had our first experiment with a family tent, camping with two under two-and-a-halfs the night before. It was our first foray into UK family campsites and a significant benchmark in accepting our true travelling days are over. But here before us was someone who was really living the life - now into day 130 and flip-flop pair number 2 of her epic walk round England (and this very fine piece of Wales).

Such was my feeble brain-dead condition, I can’t vouch for much accuracy in reporting what she said, but I know she won’t mind. I tried to glean some Tales from her great trip so far whilst ordering and devouring coffee and the kind of breakfast Steph would never touch. Speech marks are applied for “effect” and do not indicate an accurate quote – apparently it’s a story- telling technique.

We had met Steph at the library where she was wrapping up a storytelling workshop that had been arranged for her by the local Transition group. A mother explaining to her newly inspired boy that they could not walk home because the road was too dangerous and the buggy would not fit over the styles. Clearly WynnAlice had been at weaving her words to great effect.

Her stories are many and you can check them for yourself on her blog on the Transition Network website - http://www.transitionnetwork.org/blogs/steph-bradley. I asked if the journey had affected her impression of England. Her reply was along the lines of how she can’t believe it is just one country. How can it be with so much regional difference in accents, expressions, jokes, landscape, architecture… ? We were actually in Wales at the time and I had just made major blunder of ordering a ‘Full
English’ breakfast.

I made my own assessment of how the journey seems to have changed her – based on the technology that sat proudly between her and my fried eggs. Those of you who know Steph, particularly those who have worked with her and particularly those who have tried to contact her in a hurry, will know Steph does not carry a mobile phone. Well, now she does. She has even got through as many mobile phones as she has pairs of flip-flops. And the way she tells the tale of losing her first phone in some gritty North-eastern ex-industrial landscape - I think in Sunderland – and then finding another, reveals just how much this phone means to her. “This new one is second hand from a market stall in Sunderland – I can see when I am getting emails! I am not able to reply to them but it means I know when they are coming in so I know when people are contacting me and when I need to arrange to get on the internet.” There was clearly a bond between the two of them.

I asked if her impressions of Transition had changed as a result of her experience. “Certainly in terms of how I talk about Transition. When I tell people what it is I now say its about people having fun, first, and then about building community. People seem to really understand that. I don’t ever talk about ...” (peak oil, climate change etc blah blah blah). This was backed up by stories of people who had joined her along the way, including a man who was walking from his house to the shops for the first time and was convinced they were both on comparable journeys.

I was keen to find out how her sense of the task we have in hand with Transition might have changed. This was playing on my mind as I was coming to the end of two and a half weeks staying with various friends and family about England and Scotland.

“Do you still think it is achievable?”

“Oh yes, definitely. To find all these people around the country doing the same work. If we think we are just working on our own down in Totnes, it’s not the case. This stuff is going on everywhere and soon its all going to link up.”

This was just what I needed to hear as my take at the time was quite different. My family and I had travelled twice as far as Steph in just two weeks – to Edinburgh and back - with a diesel engine instead of flip-flops, and I was left with quite a different feeling. A feeling that maybe we actually kid ourselves in Totnes that the rest of the country is along with what we are trying to do. The difference in awareness and behaviour that I had encountered on our trip seemed to be a chasm too great to bridge.

For me and most the people I talk to at home, Transition is the most exciting story. For many it’s the best thing to have happened to them. Every day I find new people wanting to talk to me about it. Yet, on our trip I had found climate change is still taboo and you talk about a looming energy crisis of the severity that is on the cards and you still get those ‘loony-in-the-house’ looks. I have reluctantly accepted this may always be the case in certain generations where everything still goes in the same bin. With my own
generation, however, I found it stark. We stayed with many similar-aged folk

– real old friends - making similar decisions as we are – about settling down, building house extensions, buying for and feeding kids, developing careers. Suburban lifestyles built around utter car-dependence, double mortgages, house extensions with bare minimum insulation, newcomers in remote cul de sacs that are flight journeys from their immediate family. These are people setting out – people with the perfect opportunity to incorporate the Transition principles and assumptions into their lives and decisions in order to build the
future we need.

Being reminded of this void of awareness had unsettled me. The scale of the task of Transition once again seemed beyond possible. I have been in my own denial for quite some time about allowing myself to seriously consider ‘lifeboat’ scenarios. For the past few days, however, I had been quietly mulling over the idea that we were coming home from our holiday to start building lifeboats, whatever they may look like.

Steph was a breath of fresh air. A reawakening of what is possible. “Although on the occasions that I have stayed with non-Transition households, I have found it quite depressing” she added. Ah well, almost there!

Steph joined us again later in the day in the abundant community garden that Transition Hay established this year – splendidly sited at the end of an organic field with the best views from any Transition project that I have ever visited. We had spent the afternoon resting in the sunshine, watching swallows diving for insects over the crops, with the rooftops of ancient Hay breaking out of the Welsh woodland and backed by the Black Mountains of the Brecon Beacons National Park. Enterprising Transitioners had a steady
stream of customers pulling off the road to buy their produce. Steph was crouched behind the compost toilet - the only place she could get decent reception. The holiday had been great and we had caught up with some life- long friends from years ago but it was great to be among Transition folk again.

Refreshed, back home and already inspired by some Belgian and French cyclists who dropped in to see what we are up to on their tour of the Westcountry, we’re back to work. Back to the task of working out how we communicate Transition so its relevant for all. Having fun, building communities and creating new stories for the world we want and need.
Thanks Steph - I look forward to your return!

Hal Gillmore, of Communications group and Transition Tales project

- You can keep up to date with Steph’s travels on her blog here. 
- Its not too late to contribute to Steph’s fundraising here.
- Steph is due back on the weekend 25/26 September. If you are interested in being part of the homecoming or joining her for the end of the walk, drop Ben a line in the Transition Network office and see in the new programme of events below, ‘Autumn Return’:  A harvest of Tales, 25th Sept at Bowden House.