In February 2009 I was forced to find an escape from my home surroundings for a variety of disagreeable personal reasons. I found my thoughts gravitating towards my childhood home in Hampshire. Finally I decided on a trip to Winchester. I’d never been there before. When I get a feel for certain places and am drawn to them I more or less have to go there.

A friend had sent me a postcard of an Elizabeth Frink statue of a horse and rider. It is an iconic image and I derived great solace and strength from it whilst finding myself in turbulent circumstances. During my brief research on Winchester, which amounted to reading the tourist info. sent to me by post, I discovered three things:

1. There is an Elizabeth Frink statue on the High Street.
2. There is an Alice Kettle tapestry in the library, which looked fascinating, and being already briefly acquainted with her work, I was keen to see more, especially as this was enormous and looked very impressive.
3. Jane Austen died in Winchester.

Having decided to quit my cramped bedsit, there were many obstacles to face before actually getting to Winchester. Not least of which I had been suffering with post traumatic stress since a car crash in 2006. This caused my personality and identity to unravel. I thought I was on another planet. For a long time the only place I felt safe was by water or on a moving train. The train journey was what I was looking forward to the most. I felt safe on trains.

Beyond this there was mounting anxiety about the journey – not to mention travelling on a shoestring – not having travelled since a trip to Venice in 2002. PTS notwithstanding, how was I going to get myself together enough to get out of the front door of the Victorian semi-detached I lived in.

The calming and well marketed images of Winchester fell into the background as the rising panic started to mount within me. Nausea, already prevalent, ruled the day. A traditional morning, (always bare in mind morning is a relative term in the life of a depressive) routine could take, and still often does, anywhere between half an hour to three plus hours…. I know, I know… so why was I even contemplating going into town, let alone cross country to Winchester?