The Man Who Spent a Decade Walking Every Continent—and Still Isn’t Done: From Chile to Hull, One Step at a Time

Karl Bushby wasn’t pursuing records or fame when he left Chile in November 1998. One step at a time, he was pursuing the horizon. What started out as an impromptu wager between friends has grown into a 27-year journey that crosses every continent and pushes the boundaries of endurance.

Bushby, a former British paratrooper, set out with the straightforward but bold goal of walking the entire planet and returning to Hull, England, on foot. No flights. No rides. No short cuts. It was just a man, a backpack, and the steady beat of footsteps over 36,000 miles of shifting ground. The concept sounded ridiculously ambitious, but its simplicity made it remarkably effective.

He started out with just $500, a tent, and his own set of rules. He never used transportation and never went back home until he got there on foot. Tested in frozen seas, jungles, and deserts, that unyielding discipline became both his greatest challenge and his compass. Bushby’s walk is among the longest continuous human-powered expeditions in history by any measure.

He has walked the length of North America, traversed the Andes, crossed the wind-whipped plains of Patagonia, and made his way through the Darién Gap, a notoriously hazardous jungle corridor frequented by guerrillas and traffickers, over the course of almost thirty years. Later, he literally stepped from one continent to another across shifting ice as he crossed the frozen Bering Strait between Alaska and Russia. He compared it to walking across a broken mirror. “You could be swallowed by every step you take.”

His journey, dubbed the Goliath Expedition, has been significantly influenced by perseverance and patience. The difficulties he encountered went well beyond geography. His advancement was repeatedly hampered by political unrest, visa restrictions, and the 2008 financial crisis. He was stranded during the pandemic, barred from re-entry for five years, and imprisoned in Russia for crossing an unauthorized border. Another man’s quest might have been ended by each setback. They became new chapters in Bushby’s never-ending story.

Bushby, who is now in his mid-fifties, is nearing the end of his incredible journey, having traveled over 25 countries and six continents. He crossed the Bosphorus Strait into Europe in late 2025, marking an emotional turning point that moved him closer to home. He is anticipated to arrive in Hull by 2026, completing a journey that started before smartphones and has lasted for whole technological eras.

Just as fascinating as the walk itself is the man who told it. Bushby’s mental toughness was shaped by his military experience. He was trained to endure harsh circumstances while serving as a paratrooper in the British Army. He once remarked, “The army teaches you that quitting isn’t an option.” For a man who would later experience polar storms, political imprisonment, and the depressing isolation of endless miles, that way of thinking proved to be incredibly effective.

Bushby’s accomplishment is profoundly human because of the humility and grit he has displayed throughout his journey. He frequently travels alone, sleeps outside, and subsists on food donations and the sporadic generosity of locals. He claims that although he walks alone, he has never truly been by himself. People from all over the world have kept me going by providing me with food, shelter, and encouragement.

Millions of people who watch his progress on the internet and in documentaries have been inspired by his perseverance. It also brings to mind other explorers who pushed the boundaries of humanity, such as John Francis, the environmentalist who spent 17 years walking and listening to silence, or Paul Salopek’s ten-year Out of Eden Walk, which traced human migration routes. Bushby’s effort, however, is unique. He seeks completion, an almost spiritual return to origin, rather than science or symbolism.

One of his most audacious achievements was swimming 288 kilometers across the Caspian Sea, which he did after his path was blocked by Russian visa problems. “I found a way to keep moving forward when walking wasn’t possible,” he remarked. The essence of his mission—progress, however unlikely—is captured in that one line.

Bushby’s walk has evolved over time into a subdued allegory for tenacity in a time of impatience. His adventure started long before satellite trackers and Instagram stories transformed travel into a stage act. His steady, slow progress stands in stark contrast to the fast-paced nature of contemporary life. Every mile traveled becomes a declaration about perseverance in a time of ease—a reminder that certain objectives can only be attained via perseverance and hardship.

In terms of culture, Bushby’s journey has also reignited the public’s interest in exploration. His mission demonstrates that true adventure still exists—just not in speed or spectacle, but in persistent human effort—despite the great age of discovery appearing to have passed. His story speaks to other endurance seekers: from Elon Musk’s aspirations to Mars to Gwyneth Paltrow’s wellness endeavors, the quest to push human limits continues to be a defining characteristic of our era.

Bushby frequently reveals a deeper philosophy of purpose in his reflections. He once remarked, “Walking has never really been the focus of this.” “It’s about realizing how far a person can go when moving forward is all that matters.” Today, as people of all ages rediscover the importance of slow perseverance over rapid results, his words seem especially potent.

His optimism has not wavered in the face of decades of adversity. In an interview last year, he remarked, “I’ve lived more than I could have imagined.” “Every step would still have been worthwhile even if I stopped tomorrow.” That feeling strikingly resembles the spirit of earlier explorers, who were motivated by curiosity rather than comfort.

One of the most amazing human journeys in modern history will come to an end when Bushby returns home. However, he acknowledges that finishing can feel oddly pointless. “For nearly thirty years, this road has been my purpose,” he declared. “I’ll have to learn how to stop moving when it’s over.”