Simon Armitage Walking Away from a hernia

I really enjoy Simon Armitage's prose works - especially All Points North, Gig and Walking Home. In this latter work, he tackles the Pennine Way, but walks from north to south, so that he will arrive at his home in Marsden, West Yorkshire. The route is a dream achievement to many walkers; most, like me, probably won't even attempt more than a few sections, so Armitage's valiant walk, accompanied by his wandering troubadour act of nightly performances, is a saga of suitably epic proportions. Now, he's back, but this time in Walking Away, as serialised, and ready by the man himself on Radio 4's book of the week, he walks the northern part of the South West Coast Path and then leaves the mainland to carry out as wandering troubadour in the Scillies. Unlike the Pennine Way, I have walked several sections of the SWCP, most recently just over a week ago in south Devon's glorious South Hams, and can well picture the route as it winds is way up and down steep combes, where maximum effort is expended for often just a few short miles as the gull flies. But there's one thing that jarred with me, and that is where Simon mentions that strength of effort was enough to give him a hiatus hernia. Sorry, Simon, but I think you've confused with with a common-or-garden rupture (beloved of music hall acts, who could then go on to cause hilarity by using the word 'truss'). Strenuous effort won't give you a hiatus hernia, but your parents probably could. This is generally regarded as an hereditary condition (I got mine from my dad's side: thanks folks!) and the leakage of stomach acid through a tear in the oesophageal lining has given me years of acid reflux, now managed by a proton pump inhibitor (a drug, not something you fit on your bike), which reduces the amount of acid produced by the stomach, thereby reducing the painful symptoms - but it's still best to avoid pastry (for a northerner this means not eating pies...). My granddad had both (how lucky can one guy get?): a hernia due to a fall down some steep cellar steps while carrying a shop window shutter as a 14-year-old barber's apprentice, and a hiatus courtesy of his genes.

Hernia confusion aside, I really enjoyed Walking Away - a great description of a wonderful walk and the adventures of a northern troubadour amongst those rolling - if sometimes vertiginous southern hills.