Pilgrim's Progress – Long Distance Walks in Europe and the UK

Expect great things from God; attempt great things for God The Baptist Herald and Friend of Africa – William Carey I was sad to say good bye to Vince and Veronica Short. They were incredibly kind, highly entertaining and were also a mine of information about the history of Tatsfield. As I left Tatsfield Church

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I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his ridingOf the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding The Windhover – Gerard Manley Hopkins What ended up as probably the most satisfying day of the walk so far, didn’t get off to a particularly promising start. I had enjoyed a

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Who, or why, or which, or what, Is the Akond of SWAT? The Akond of Swat – Edward Lear I found myself reciting the first few verses of Edward Lear’s famous poem ‘The Akond of Swat’ as I woke up this morning and pondered the question, who are the Order of Carmelite Friars and why do

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‘A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse.’ Richard III Act 5 Scene IV – William Shakespeare Today was an early start so that I could fit in an appointment in Chilham and make it to Canterbury in good time to look around the town and Cathedral. I made my way back onto the

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Journeys end in lovers meeting Twelfth Night Act 2 Scene 3 – William Shakespeare In some strange way, I feel that my journey to St Peter’s Rome will only really start in earnest, if and when I make it across the Channel to Calais. Until then, it is a bit of a teddy bear’s picnic.

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The sea is calm tonight.The tide is full, the moon lies fairUpon the straits; on the French coast the lightGleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay. Dover Beach – Matthew Arnold What an amazing night! I’m still not 100% convinced that I didn’t dream it all.

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Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,With a cargo of Tyne coal,Road-rails, pig-lead,Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays. ‘Cargoes’ – John Masefield As my alarm sounded at 5.45am I must confess that I wasn’t hugely optimistic about my chances of making it across the channel. I

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‘Its eyes blaze and with quivering tongue it licks its mouth,which opens wide; the dragon hisses through its gaping jowls. Its monstrous head bristles with bloody crests, the rest of its body skims the boundless air behind’ Jacobius Sylvius – epic poem about the Field of the Cloth of Gold composed in 1520. For some

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They shut the road through the woodsSeventy years ago.Weather and rain have undone it again,And now you would never knowThere was once a road through the woodsBefore they planted the trees.It is underneath the coppice and heath,And the thin anemones … Rudyard Kipling – The Way through the Woods My previous night’s sleep had been

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Up the long flight of stairsevery tread echoes from stone wallsas if to comment on how stillnesstells of sound its silent origin. In the quiet library, the central tablebears a careful written message:‘Silence is spoken here’.. and that’s truer than It first appears to read. Michael Shepherd – The Monastery The bees were still in

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