Terry Waite - Solitude: Memories, People, Places

A major part of the joy of serious travelling is in the preparation. The endless poring over maps and brochures, or researching on the internet, stimulates the desire to leave behind the day-to-day responsibilities and launch out into new experiences. I remember the excitement I felt as a child when my grandmother told me that she was going to take me on a day trip to the seaside. Having been brought up in post-war Britain, travel beyond the boundaries of the small Cheshire village where I lived was an exception. An exception that I welcomed with the same enthusiasm with which a prisoner might greet his impending release.

As soon as I gained a measure of independence, I began to travel beyond the shores of the British Isles. First to France, Germany and Austria in the days when it was safe and easy to hitch-hike across Europe. Later my work took me to Uganda, in East Africa, which eventually became my home for several years and also the birthplace of our youngest child. After Africa, the world opened to me. North and South America; the Middle and Far East; Australia and New Zealand. Sometimes I travelled in the company of others. More often than not I was alone.

Then, suddenly, my journeys came to an abrupt end. While seeking the release of hostages in Beirut I was taken captive and spent one thousand seven hundred and sixty-three days in captivity, almost four years of which were spent in solitary confinement. I have attempted to describe that experience elsewhere; suffice it to say here, it was during those years that I began to travel in my head. Using my imagination I crossed continents, sailed the oceans, and retreated into the inner recesses of my mind in order to try and understand myself more completely. On release, some five years later, I stayed put for a while in Trinity Hall, Cambridge writing my account of the experience. When the book was completed, I resumed so-called normal life once more. Having spent so much time in solitary confinement it was the solitary aspect of life that interested me. In my book Taken on Trust I tell the story of my captivity and survival. The first edition of that book concluded as I stepped off the RAF plane in Lyneham, Wiltshire, and gave a press statement to the hundreds of journalists present on that wet and windy day. In a later edition I added another chapter, which briefly brought that book up to date.

This book picks up the story and recounts some of the journeys I made to solitary places and also records some of the people who spoke with me. They are indeed a diverse group, ranging from the wife of a cattle rancher living in the middle of the Australian outback to a former double agent settled in a government apartment in Moscow. They all spoke with me about solitude and how they viewed and lived it, and I have attempted to faithfully reproduce what they said to me.

In the final chapter I have added some further reflections taken from my own experience and, throughout, have included personal insights. There is no interview with any individual who has chosen a solitary life for religious reasons, and the exclusion is partly because there are so many writings about this experience that I did not feel the need to include more here.

Some years ago I read Anthony Storrs book Solitude , which is almost certainly the classic work on the subject. In it he quotes De Quincey, who said: No man will ever unfold the capacities of his own intellect who does not at least checker his life with solitude.

Increasingly in todays frantic world we need space for ourselves. Recently a friend told me a poignant story which illustrated this point perfectly. He was leading a trek across a barren part of South Africa. For miles around, there was nothing but sand, sky and the wide open space. He noticed one man walking alone and, as he approached him, he saw that tears were streaming down his face. Anxiously he asked him if all was well.

Ive never experienced anything like this before, he replied. My life is just full of the pressures of work and family. For as long as I can remember I have never experienced such beauty and peace in solitude.

Perhaps this small volume may encourage someone to move fully into that space and explore more completely the richness of solitude.