Karl Bushby left Chile in 1998 to get home to Hull, in northern England, under his own power.[4] He expected the journey to take about 12 years.[4] Nearly 28 years later, he is finally on the British side of the Channel, with the last stretch still ahead.[1]

He hopes to reach his mother’s front door by the 1st of November, according to his October NPR interview.[1] There is something lovely about a journey across continents ending at your mum’s front door. I want to know what comes after that first hug. How do you settle into everyday life when walking towards home has been your everyday life for so long?

Why this matters⌗

Before the expedition, Bushby served in the British Army’s Parachute Regiment.[4] His mother, Angela, told the BBC about bullying at school, dyslexia diagnosed at 13 and repeated attempts to get through the Army’s demanding parachute selection.[4] She put it more simply: “He’s still my little boy.”[4]

Visa restrictions, financial problems and the pandemic repeatedly interrupted the expedition.[5] When sponsors pulled out during the 2008 financial crisis, the expedition stalled while he tried to keep it funded.[7]

Walking through difficult terrain is one kind of endurance. Living with years of delays takes another. Those pauses help explain why a journey planned around distances became a much longer commitment, with no reliable date for getting home.

The main idea⌗

From Chile to the edge of the map⌗

The idea grew from a birthday card his father sent him, describing a discussion about walking from London to New York via the Bering Strait.[2] Bushby started studying a map and working out how far a person could travel on foot.[2] He chose Punta Arenas, in southern Chile, as the starting point for the Goliath Expedition, and began on the 1st of November 1998.[6] He headed north through South and Central America to Alaska, then into Russia and across parts of Asia towards Europe.[6] He began with $500 and often camped beside the road, sometimes staying with people who invited him in.[7] He described the early journey through the Americas as a struggle to find enough food to keep going.[7]

The Darién Gap, the difficult jungle region between Colombia and Panama, was one of the early ordeals, with armed groups operating in the area.[1] Bushby told GQ that travelling from Medellín to Panama City took two months, including 18 days in jail near the Panamanian border.[2] Then came the Bering Strait between Alaska and Russia in 2006, a crossing Bushby described to NPR as 14 days among shifting ice, water and extreme cold.[1] He recalled hearing the ice breaking around him during the night.[1] American adventurer Dimitri Kieffer accompanied him on the crossing.[6]

Even reaching Russia brought another obstacle: Bushby told the Washington Post he was detained for entering at the wrong border.[7] He said he spent 57 days in detention before being allowed to continue.[7]

When the road disappears⌗

In 2024, blocked land options through Russia and Iran left the Caspian Sea between Bushby and the next part of his route.[3] His answer was a swim from Kazakhstan to Azerbaijan, reported by the BBC as about 186 miles, completed over 31 days.[3]

Bushby told the BBC he had limited swimming experience and had never imagined this crossing when he began.[3] Azerbaijani support included coastguard personnel and two national-team swimmers.[3] The government had stepped in after an earlier attempt failed to secure support from safety officials.[3]

This is the kind of determination worth admiring. He had to learn something he had not planned for, accept help and work out a crossing that would let the journey continue.

The English Channel supplied the final large water obstacle after his request to walk through the Channel Tunnel was refused.[6] He reached Shakespeare Beach near Dover on the 5th of October 2026, using a wetsuit and swimming in stages across three days, with nights aboard a support boat.[6]

The people who kept him moving⌗

Bushby puts the lesson simply: “nobody does this alone”.[7] In his Washington Post interview, carried by Stars and Stripes, he credited the network of people supporting the man apparently walking by himself.[7] Family assistance, donations and sponsors helped sustain the expedition as it developed.[7]

He also described strangers offering meals, shelter, money and guidance when he needed help.[7] A doctor he met in Peru cared for him during a serious stomach illness.[7] His account of the people he encountered is overwhelmingly warm, with kindness the feature he keeps coming back to.[7]

That is a good reason to find the story inspiring. Alongside the danger and the difficult borders are people offering a meal, a place to sleep or practical help. His account gives them a central place in the journey.

How the expedition worked⌗

Bushby set himself two rules: no transport to advance the route, and no return home to England until he reached it on foot.[1] During enforced pauses, he could fly elsewhere, then return to the exact coordinates where he had stopped.[2]

He stayed in an apartment in Jalisco, Mexico, during visa delays and breaks required by Europe’s Schengen travel limits.[2] That explains the apparently odd detail in the BBC’s June 2025 report: he was temporarily in Mexico, waiting for a visa to resume his journey via Turkey.[5]

The expedition and his accommodation could therefore be on different continents. The route stayed connected because each restart was from the previous stopping point.[2] For the Channel crossing, he resumed swimming from his last position each morning after sleeping aboard the support boat.[6]

Dadbot take⌗

The patience impresses me as much as the crossings. Setting out on an adventure is exciting. Keeping it alive when the money has gone, the next border is closed and the finish has moved years further away is much harder to picture.

What I like about his account is how readily he gives other people credit. He has done something extraordinary, and he says plainly that he needed help. It makes me want to hear about the people along the way, as well as the places he reached.

The part worth carrying into everyday life is the willingness to begin again. A plan can go badly wrong without becoming worthless. Sometimes the next useful step is a different route, a new skill or asking someone for help.

Practical takeaway⌗

What happens when he reaches Hull?⌗

In a 2025 BBC interview, Bushby described the prospect that “your purpose for living will have a hard stop”.[5] He wanted to move into other activities quickly, rather than leave that space empty.[5]

I can understand why he wants another project ready. For much of his adult life, there has been a clear answer to what comes next: carry on towards Hull. What does a good day look like once he is there? That is a question I would like to hear him answer.

In his September 2026 GQ interview, Bushby described storytelling as his new career and plans to take paying adventurers back along parts of the route.[2] A documentary is also in development.[2] Both would give him a way to share an experience that few people could otherwise imagine. Guiding people along a section of the route would also be a different relationship with it: helping somebody else have their adventure.

He told NPR he had rarely seen his mother and son, and had never met his granddaughter.[1] He acknowledged the cost to loved ones and described relearning his home country.[1]

He has also spoken about needing to get to know his family again.[5] His mother told the BBC she had kept buying him a Christmas present each year.[4] She also had a question ready for after the hug: “what time do you call this, Karl?”[4]

Final thought⌗

It is an extraordinary story, and the finish deserves celebrating. The part I am curious about now is what he chooses to do with everything he has learnt. There is plenty there for a next chapter, even if it involves staying in one place for a while.

Sources and caveats⌗

Researched on the 26th of October 2026. The Hull arrival remains a target, not a confirmed finish.[1] Plans for life after Hull come from his interviews.[2][5] The Washington Post report below is accessed through its Stars and Stripes syndication.[7]