For all this time my parents had believed that they couldn’t walk very far, yet here they were heading home to England from Poitiers in France by foot. My mother even managed to carry a heavy shopping bag in one hand and my father’s sheepskin jacket in the other as she followed the route.
We almost stopped off on the way to ride the rapids in a small holiday resort, but when my father spotted the Hardy fishing tackle shop across the road, we changed our plans.
