Even as a young child I knew I was complacent and happy with my life. So I grew a shell of cynicism around me in which the soft oyster of my imagination could live. I got lucky that day - I listened for longer than a child normally would and gradually something became audible to me. An ebb and flow of washing sound. The shell invoked the sea for me.

I felt the sea breeze, the salt spray and I saw the sun licking the tops of little waves. I felt my happiness as I soaked up the sun and the energy of the waves. However after thinking about this experience I realised that the sound that I heard was probably my breathing, or the rhythmic movement of the blood in my ear. I felt cheated. Once again I had allowed myself to be conned. All I had heard to make me so happy was myself.

I have gone through a year now of being dissatisfied by my walk. What was so special about it I asked myself. I have analysed what I did and have come to the conclusion that I had been under ambitious. I have a sizeable list of places that I did not see. The New Forest, The Peak District, The Cotswolds, The South Devon Coast - these are just the places in England. I had my opportunity and I did not do enough. I should be holidaying now, having just completed a book about how I walked around Africa. I know that the opportunity will not come again.

As I sit here in the sun looking at boats beached on the sand in front of me I know that I made a big mistake not to include Northumberland in my route. Just sitting here with my back to the rocks of the tiny castle I can see a wide horizon of walking country.

Northumberland is a county full of surprises, with its expanses of Kielder Forest, its fast flowing rivers and its enormous coastline on which it is still possible to be alone, to read a book and see seals fishing off the coast.

On a good day, like today, it feels like you can see the whole of England stretching away from you in the clear Summer air. Perhaps in a way, you can. The humped backed whale of the Cheviots representing the uplands, the wide expanse of sand before me, the English Coast, Bamburgh Castle, mounted like a gargoyle on the horizon, the treasure house of the country’s past.

For the first time in a year I just felt the desire to throw on a rucksack and to go for a walk. I noticed something very interesting as I laced up my boots. Its like that time I heard the sea in a shell.

When I stood silently in my boots I could hear England. A hub-bub of towns, villages, fields and faces that ebbs and flows with the sounds of the sea.

These sounds, of course, are coming from me as well. But I know now what is special about listening to yourself.