The TROY Book Club: In Green by Louis D Hall

We’re thrilled to welcome writer, photographer, and long-distance rider Louis D Hall to the TROY London Book Club. Louis’s debut book, In Green, is a deeply evocative account of his 2,000-mile journey on horseback across Europe, a story that weaves together wild landscapes, human connection, and the raw emotions of love, loss, and purpose. As our founder Rosie wrote to Louis after finishing the book: “You write so beautifully of your epic journey, love, grief, the horse… I found it completely absorbing.” In this special Q&A, Rosie sits down with Louis to explore the stories behind the saddle, from forging new paths to finding meaning in the moments between.

'In Green' is your first novel chronicling an epic 2000 mile journey with your horse Sasha, through the mountain ranges of northern Italy into France and then Spain, to the Atlantic coast. You have completed many adventures on horse, boat and foot, what was it about this one that formed a book?

When the journey was over, I put away the diaries and tried to forget all about it. This
hadn’t happened before. 111 days is a long time - so much had happened - too much to try and understand, and so much energy had been put into making sure we reached the end. I doubted the journey’s worth. But then, eight months later, a publisher contacted me and asked if I had ever considered writing about it. This conversation started it all.

The romance of your writing is utterly absorbing, conjuring the sights and smells of the journey but also the raw emotions of grief, love and finding purpose in life. How therapeutic was the journey and how therapeutic was the process of writing about it?

The writing and editing process was totally revealing. Once the dust had settled, I transcribed the diaries into a manuscript and began the long editing process. I thought the journey was about one thing, yet I was writing about something else. The editor had her thoughts too, as did the publisher. Together, reading, rereading, writing, rewriting, a shape began to show itself on the page. This process allowed me to understand what had happened and why the journey had begun. As for the ride itself, I cannot call it therapeutic - it was extraordinary, the most difficult and wonderful thing I have ever done - but it wasn’t reality. It was an extreme version of living that had a wild, vivid and raw lifeforce of its own, uncontrollable at times - coming back down to earth was
difficult.

The connection you form with your horse Sasha is instinctive and full of respect and trust. You lead him up treacherous mountain paths and across rivers by dismounting and going first, and he always follows. Tell us what horses, and particularly your horse, mean to you.

In many ways it was I that followed him! Outside and on the move is where horses belong - preferably with a herd. On the move is the human’s most natural state too. Together we were travelling into places we’d never been and, while it was challenging and, at times, dangerous, we were pursuing the fullest parts of our potential. What fascinates me most about horses is their impact on the human interior and the way in
which we see the world around us. In 2020 I rode a Highland pony down the UK - it was here that I first saw the horse as a catalyst for connection, a lodestone for strangers and stories, a facilitator of hope. Travelling with a horse makes me feel alive - utterly present. It is like being a child again, a new being in an invigorating and unimagined place. Perhaps the greatest thing to all of this, however, is in becoming a herd. Permitted into the trust and confidence of these silent, mystical animals, and respected as an equal; two creatures, wandering forward, dependent on each other. I felt this most with Sasha, in the Ligurian Alps.

Your account of the journey is romantic but also unvarnished, detailing abandoned refuges high in the mountains followed by motorway crossings, wired off military training grounds alongside dreamy glades. How important was it to present an honest account of the hardships and difficult moments versus a glossed version of your adventure?

I think if I tried to polish the events or the terrain the book just wouldn’t have worked. Nor probably have made sense. I hope that ‘In Green’ is a human story as much as it was one of a physical undertaking - and just like people, landscape is not black and white. There are jagged rocks and ugly roots harboured within magnificent valleys - but neither would exist without each other. I think it’s probably the same with people.

You carry very little with you on your horseback travels, beyond a leather pouch of wine strapped to the saddle! What luxuries would you allow yourself on these trips?

If I did journeys in more remote places then I don’t think this would be the case. I can only take so little because I purposely try to interact with people on the way - for me, these moments are half the fun. On The Big Hoof journeys in the Highlands, for example, we are reliant on a pack pony. In the past I’ve tried, with defiance, to take my kilt. But this can prove impractical. Kilts are great for walking, though, and double up as a pillow or mattress. On the journey down the UK and across Europe I packed a very crumpled linen suit which came in handy a few times. Enough times, at least, to justify bringing it. On every journey that covers winter or autumn I bring a woolen pheran which I bought from Kashmir some years ago. This also folds up as a pillow or mattress - heavy but warm.

The new friendships you formed along the route must be one of the richest rewards of your journey, and you inspired many spontaneous acts of kindness and generosity. How did these experiences change your outlook on humanity and how you want to lead your life?

A big question! On The Big Hoof journeys these serendipitous acts from strangers are nothing short of life-affirming. They are also essential - I prefer making journeys through a mixture of barren and populated places so that human interaction becomes necessary. This creates connection and connection breeds stories. I love meeting and spending time with participants - the ragged and honest gang that is forged over the three, five, ten or however many days is very, very special indeed. On any of the journeys, big or small, I find myself stripped of choice and luxury to the point of bare necessity, with only the things that lie before you. With this, kindness becomes the main currency. A field for the night, some water, hay, a hug, a glass of wine - with so little I become so full. Outside of the journeys my life feels the opposite of that - I catch myself wanting more, unsatisfied with the minimum. Journeys with a horse allow me to feel small and insignificant, in the most free sort of way. Becoming animal again.

Alongside penning your first book, you have founded a charity The Big Hoof, supporting mental health charities through fundraiser adventures on horseback. Tell us what inspired this charity, what you have achieved, and what is in store in the coming year.

The Big Hoof came about after a friend of mine and many died of Cystic Fibrosis. In his memory, and in a knee jerk reaction to the claustrophobia of lockdown, I decided to ride down the length of the UK. I was shocked by the way in which the pony brought strangers together - like a magnet. People from all walks of life would come out to touch her neck, and hear our story. I also found it interesting how a community was made through raising funds for a shared cause. After reaching Land’s End I wanted to see if others might find the experience as powerful as I had. Since then, we’ve managed to go on ten journeys across the UK and Europe, raising almost £100,000 for charities relevant to the area in which we are travelling. No riding experience is necessary, and participants join from all over, with or without a horse. Swimming
in lochs, lighting fires, camping, moving alongside the horses - it seems to bring strangers together in a very impactful way. We will be doing a further three day journey in the Highlands in the autumn, and have a journey across Yorkshire in the making for next year.

Brought up in Scotland, Louis is a writer and photographer whose work explores myth, nature, and culture. His debut book, In Green, follows a 111-day horseback journey across Europe with his horse, Sasha - the first recorded horse-trail across the Ligurian Alps. At 18, Louis travelled solo through Mongolia and later rode the length of the UK, raising £38,000 for the Cystic Fibrosis Trust. That ride became the foundation for The Big Hoof, his outdoor mental health charity, which has since covered over 4,500 miles and raised more than £100,000. He now works with NGO Insulate Ukraine and is co-directing a documentary on the meaning of home, set for release in 2026. Louis is currently studying Creative Writing at Oxford and contributes to The Guardian, National Geographic, and The Scotsman.

BUY LOUIS DEBUT BOOK, IN GREEN

Louis Picks

Back to blog

Leave a comment

Please note, comments need to be approved before they are published.