3rd
“The “road” looks like an old farm track, rutted by the odd tractor in mud, and makes for wonderful walking, as it undulates smoothly over the level ground at the top of the ridge. It’s close to silent up here. Soon the sound of traffic fades from consciousness, and we move back into a world of bleats and birdsong, and soughing wind.
“This is what I’m after,” Rory tells me. “To get away from the sounds of petrol.”
“Escape the carbon age?”
“Back to the Neolithic. Where it’s quieter.” “
I’ve foud a new hiking goal. This summer, the Camino Santiago across northern Spain. Next summer, this one?