We awake in full awareness that this our final day of walking. It is a strange, melancholy feeling and we discuss the way time seems to have passed differently to normal during the past fortnight. By walking from inn to inn, time seems to have elapsed more slowly and peacefully. It leads to our contemplation of the fact that, with rapid modern travel, people have lost their sense of how time passes and this essential part of the human experience.

After some early morning showers have cleared, we set off and walk up through the picturesque village of Chilham, past the entrance to Chilham Castle, which was built in 1171 by Henry II, the year after Becket’s death. We stop by the village church and, although we find it locked like so many others, we happily run once more into Ryan, who is walking his dogs. We arrange to meet him in Canterbury at 2pm where he will take us round the cathedral and give us his expert eye on its many wonders and treasures.

Our route takes us through the apple orchards of Kent which David recalls as a child. They are nearing ripeness but we refrain from scrumping with our pilgrim’s purpose in mind.

We reach Harbledown by late morning which is a significant moment due to this being the last stop for Chaucer’s pilgrims and where the Parson tells his story. We are soon in the outskirts of the city and the Cathedral stands tall against the skyline, towering over the surrounding buildings.

We walk the final mile side by side, nearly two weeks and 150 miles since we departed Winchester. It is a great moment. The sense of achievement really hits us now as we venture into a large town and it feels not unlike the day we entered central London three years ago for our Shakespeare walk.

Upon reaching the entrance to Canterbury Cathedral we sit down to refresh ourselves and reflect on our journey’s end. We are met with the welcome and familiar smile of Marian who we embrace and enter with via the Christchurch Gate, as pilgrims have done so for over eight hundred years.

Once inside we meet Ryan who leads us on an illuminating tour through the centre of the cathedral and down into the crypt, which has been the site of many weddings including one today. We walk past the graveses of monarchs, noblemen and noblewomen, such as Henry IV and Joan of Navarre. There is a sense of wonder that pervades this holy place and really gives an intense sense of connection to pilgrims past and present.

After thanking Ryan and bidding him farewell, with plans made to return to the University of Kent, we manage to slip into the early evening service known as Evensong. The ethereal harmonies of the choir lift and circle above us in the cavernous space and lift the hairs on the back of our arms and necks.

Afterwards, we meet with the Vice Dean of Canterbury Cathedral, the Revd Dr Canon Emma, who invites us up to the Becket shrine, an area only permitted to pilgrims. Here, a single candle marks the spot of the shrine in a simple and beautiful gesture. The space is surrounded by stained glass panels, each of which depicts a miracle attributed to the healing hand of Becket. She gives the three of us a blessing in this immensely moving moment.

So our journey is at its end and it will seem strange tomorrow not to be walking across the English countryside and posting updates as we make our merry way. Tomorrow we will attend Sunday Service as the final mark of our pilgrimage. The evening is a relaxed affair spent at one of Canterbury’s oldest pubs – The Parrot, which is mentioned in The Canterbury Tales – and followed by our lovely lodgings for the night – House of Agnes – where Ronan and David unwind over the first game of chess they have played in a long time.

We are so thankful for all the kind people we have encountered along the pilgrimage and to all those who agreed to be photographed as part of this project. We will never forget this.

The forecast for today is terrible which is particularly unfortunate as this will be one of our longest days of walking. After breakfast we meet the Revd Millie Hart who will represent our Parson. The church in Lenham is very central to the village both geographically and as part the community.

When we arrive it is already a hive of activity, with flowers being arranged and tables moved into place. Millie has kindly arranged for churchwarden Vera to also meet us. In her 70s, she has lived in the village all her life and attended Sunday school at the church as a girl. She represents our Canon’s Yeoman. Both women are fascinating representatives of their community and shed much light on the growth do the church over time.

On our way out, we unexpectedly meet a familiar looking pair of walkers who we recognise from the Friars. They are Chris and Amanda, a mother-daughter duo, who like ourselves are making the journey to Canterbury as parent and child. We Marvel at the lightness of their luggage! We vow to follow their example in future and find time for a pilgrimage selfie.

It is 11am by the time we head up towards the North Downs. Ahead of us is a large white cross cut out of chalk as a war memorial. The advantage of this route is that you can see for miles, so it is easy to remain aware of any advancing weather fronts. So far, so good – no storms.

At Charing Hill, we avoid the temptation of visiting the nearby village of Charing with a heavy chunk of mileage still to go today. At Eastwell Park, there is the ruins of St Mary’s Church, which was damaged by a WW2 bomb and a 1950s roof collapse. A grand hotel called Eastwell Manor appears on the hills to the north.

We encounter Ian and Felicity on the road again and walk with them for a while before heading off to continue our long walk. The church at Broughton Aluph has a porch with a fireplace where pilgrims in winter could warm themselves but the summer sun provides heat enough and the church is locked anyway. We take a mile long trudge along the main Canterbury road with traffic bearing down on us.

We pass through the grand estate of Godmersham Park, now the British Dispensing Opticians College. As with places early in our walk it has strong Austenian associations. Not long after, we reach our destination of Chilham via the the interestingly named Mountain Street. Climbing the hill, we reach idyllic village with its quintessential central square.

We stop off for tea and a cheese scone and it is clear that this is one of most beautiful place we have stayed thus far. The winds are beginning to build – a bad omen for our final day tomorrow – but otherwise the skies are cloudless and the rays beat down.

While David freshens up, Ronan has a chat in the bar with old friend Austin Tichenor, Managing Partner of the Reduced Shakespeare Company about which Ronan wrote his doctoral thesis. Given Austin lives in Chicago this is made possible by the marvelous medium of Skype. It is a pleasure to discuss the walk and reflect on the journey, alongside some discussion of the thesis with Austin, although he bemoans the fact that, due to the time difference, he can only sup upon a morning cup of tea, while Ronan enjoys a refreshing early evening IPA.

Another academic figure joins us for dinner, albeit this time in person! Dr Ryan Perry stops by for dinner and drinks. He lives in the village and works at The University of Kent’s School of English, sigh research interests that include manuscript culture and Middle English religious literature. Ryan has agreed to be our Clerk and imparts not only a great deal of rich and illuminating insight into the Canterbury Tales but paints a vivid picture of Geoffrey Chaucer as a working writer. Eating and drinking in The Woolpack Inn, which houses some portraits of Chaucer’s Pilgrims, the writer has never felt closer. This is a highly appropriate way to spend our penultimate and twelfth night. Ryan even agreed to give us a tour of Canterbury Cathedral tomorrow and so we go to bed with our bellies full, our minds racing and our spirits high as we anticipate tomorrow’s final seven miles of this pilgrimage.

We enjoy breakfast with three members of Catholic Voices, a project which originated in the UK and aims to improve the Catholic Church’s representation in media. You can find out more about what they do here: http://www.catholicvoices.org.uk/.

They are great company and it is fascinating to hear about their role in aiming to change the perception of the church in the public eye. We make time for Ronan to take a picture as the scribbler with Becket’s statue, reflect on their wonderful duck pond which houses coots, Canada geese and a majestic heron surveying his kingdom, before heading out.

First, we take a detour to a local car wash in the hope of photographing one of the employees on a zero hours contract. They will represent out Weaver, one of Chaucer’s gildsmen, who were greatly exploited. Despite explaining our project, they are unfortunately not prepared to be photographed.

We track back to our original route, via a gold club, and elect to take a lower route parallel to the original Pilgrims’ Way, which is now a road with heavy traffic. Our route also enables us to visit several country churches. On the road, we meet three fellow Canterbury-bound pilgrims Andrew, Adrian and Alun, who are on the rouen from Rochester.

There is a stop for some liquid refreshment at the Dirty Habit, a thirteenth century inn frequent by pilgrims. This provides such much needs relief before the road ahead which is dry and dusty. We reflect on those refugees who walked across Europe in hope of a better life in Canterbury, where we will meet David Herd, Professor of Modern Theatre at the University of Kent. He has organised a project called Refugee Tales, where refugees have shared their stories in Canterbury Tales for the twenty-first century.

All walkers just keep an eye on the weather (and of course we have the BBC weather app at our finger tips) but the fourteenth century pilgrims would have had to look at the sky and cloud formations. At the moment, a mackerel sky is beginning to form which portends a change and probably rain on the way. This is confirmed later in the evening forecast!

Upon arriving in Lenham and meet Peter Dodds, who has restored at Thames Sailing Barge. He bought the ‘Mirusa’ in 1976 and has restored her as an authentic sailing barge and we make a portrait of him as our Shipman. The evening is appropriately spent in the company of fish ‘n’ chips and we run into the three As in the pub neighbouring our lodgings again.

Leaving Wrotham, we hope to visit a church reputed to be the oldest in England on our way out of the village but sadly find it locked. Crossing over the M20 with its morning commuter traffic, we rejoin the Pilgrims’ Way to dip in and out of the North Downs Way throughout most of these early hours. A short detour is taken tonfieit another beautiful church at Trottiscliffe, with its unique box pews. Light from a stained glass window plays on the aisle between the pews.

The clouds are tripping across the sky on this beautiful summer’s day and reminds David of bygone days growing up in Hyde Lea in the countryside and those long summer holidays sitting out in the fields when the world seemed a simpler place without the concerns of global warming and the loss of flora and fauna.

We now detour into the outskirts of David’s birthplace, Maidstone, whee we meet psychic Anita, her partner Andy and their daughter. Despite Ronan’s sore ankle and the sadness to see so much of Maidstone built up and less green than in David’s youth, the aura of their home with insence burning and relaxing cup of tea is palpable and we soon feel our spirits lift. Her story is a fascinating one. Anita and Andy are very open about her gift, as they refer to it.

Anita speaks of herself as an ordinary Mum who possess a gift that she is capable of switching off when required and then tuning back in when the moment requires. This is a long way from crystal balls, tea leaves and Professor Tralawney. Andy described her work as a form of counsel and it becomes clear that Anita is delivering therapy for many people who require it. We photograph her simply in the garden surrounded by tarot cards and her dogs in order to reflect her simple calling but have to dodge unexpected passing showers!

We say our goodbyes and continue on the road to our final destination for today: The Friars at Aylesford, situated by the famous Medway River. The Friars is England’s oldest Carmelite Priory, formed by Saint Bertold in 1242. After the reformatiom the community was expelled but returned in 1948 when fifty monks walked in procession along the road.

We are staying here in original pilgrim accommodation – albeit upgraded with all mod-cons! In no other place have we felt this intimately connected to our predecessor and our purpose. To sleep where they slept and lodge where they lay is a privilege and the sense of peace here is palpable and all pervasive.

We meet Fr Francis who has agreed to be photographed and he explains the history of the order as depicted in a series of striking paintings in the Priors Hall. We make a portrait with him with the beautiful medieval cloister as a spectacular backdrop, perfectly lift by the evening sun and clear azure skies.

He even reveals that the location has been scouted by several films, television programmes and documentaries, including an unnamed superhero movie from last year. Sadly, the director decided to cut the specified scene meaning these cloisters were not required but it is easy to imagine Captain America or Spider-Man striding through the archways as a suitably epic backdrop.

We eat dinner in the Pilgrim’s Hall, built in 1218. The interior has been restored and has three levels with a central section which make for spectacular dining. Over the door, the statue of Thomas Becket watches over us.

We exchange tales with thee young men who are working here as volunteers – two from Spain and one from Italy – and then with a group called Catholic Voices and it easy to imagine how the Chaucerian pilgrims exchanged their stories over simple meals and hallowed halls en route to Becket’s shrine. The sunlight in the evening lights the stonework on this wonderful building. What a peaceful place.

The day begins with a short detour to visit Oxted Church and then we had back into the Way. A good proportion of the route mirrors roads today but fortunately most drivers seen sympathetic to walkers around these parts.

Alas, we have to make two not inconsiderable deviations from the original Pilgrims’ Way today. Firstly, Titsey Place Gardens – designed by Inigo Jones in the 1630s – must be negotiated, and secondly, in 1792, the grandson of Lord Stanhope closed the Pilgrims’ Way to prevent them from passing by his front door! It is now a government residence… should rich, private individuals be allowed to close routes followed by travellers for thousands of years? You decide.

We pass through the village of Otford with its duck pond and another locked church. We make a short detour to the church at Kemsing where the old door has indentations made by the staves of medieval pilgrims.

Rumour has it that the knights who murdered Thomas Becket stayed here on their way to Canterbury and today the church is haunted by a knight who appears on the 29th December.

Despite much of the roots today being a long quiet country roads we never walk more than 10 places before seeing heaps of rubbish discarded by the roadside: sandwich packets, plastic cans, beer cans etc. all supposedly discarded by passing cars.

Today we passed the county boundary from Surrey into Kent. David, having been born in Kent and spent the first 12 years of his life there until his family moved to Stafford always feels a sense of being home when in Kent; it is as if the county is impregnated in his DNA. He is truly a Kentish lad!

Having walked on mainly roads for over 12 miles, we are beginning to flag but, fortunately, at that point we meet our friend Maddie, with her adorable dachshund trotting beside her, named Bear. We walk together, chatting and catching up, and her company very much lifts our spirits. No apple orchards yet appear but there are more vines; so many in fact that you might think you are in Northern France.

Maddie kindly offered to return to Limpsfield to collect our luggage and then take this on to our next destination.

We buy her a drink and sit in the warm sunshine before saying our goodbyes to her and bad. The Bull’s Inn, our lodgings for the night, has been in existence since 1280 with its narrow staircases and quiet rooms. It also houses a formidable smokehouse and we dine upon fine pilgrims cuisine with an American twist tonight! It is very easy to imagine pilgrims lodging and coughing within these very walls.

This is the halfway stage of journey and it is extremely gratifying to report that we have managed to arrange a good proportion of our twenty-first century pilgrims. Some still elude us but we hope that, like our Biker Wife of Bath, they shall reveal themselves as we walk.

It is a dismal morning with drizzle fizzling down but we walk with the hope of improvement. Unlike the Camino, the evidence of pilgrims who walked the Way was most lost during the Reformation and Cromwell’s time, but there must have been many buildings in the past which catered for travellers such as ourselves.

The walk begins with a steep climb back onto the North Downs and then we head east. At Gatton Park, there is the striking Millenium Stone Circle. This comprises ten stone monoliths which stand facing each other. Once inside the circle, the stones reveal beautifully carved inscriptions, including quotations from The Bible, William Shakespeare and T.S. Eliot.

We walk on to Mersham which houses its famous “Quality Steet”, so called after J.M. Barrie’s play of the same name. When the film adaptation was released in 1936, confectionary company Mackintosh’s had their famous tin of sweets feature the image of the box fronted windows from this street. The rest is history.

The Way bridges served major loads including the M25; an alarming experience after the peace of the previous few days in the idyllic countryside. Today, the motorway is never far away, with the mechanical, man-made noise ringing constantly in our ears.

We gradually climb to the top of the North Downs through fields of freshly cut corn. The route then bears resemblance to the old drovers’ roads which we encountered during Walk You Will. Drovers herded their cattle to London along these ancient routes in medieval times and it is probable thay such paths dates back to before the Romans.

Finally, we arrive at at our Bed ‘n’ Breakfast run by couple David and Helen. They kindly relieve us with tea (what else?) and ginger cake and we recount our travels thus far. Traditional fish, chips and mushy peas are the order of the evening and we happen upon another diner, Maria, who enthusiastically tells she that she wrote her dissertation about Chaucer. She has many suggestions for the Pilgrims we still seek and is a fantastic source of information and kindness!

Sated, we journey back to our B’n’B, where David – a great believer in homoeopathic remedies – recommends a cream of frankincense and myrrh for Ronan’s slightly sore ankle. Truly, a holy solution! Only the gold was missing…

We exit our hotel on Box Hill to witness the spectacular sight of Ride London. This huge cycling event which features professionals and amateurs alike has led to closure of all roads in the vicinity, leaving all of our fellow hotel guest trapped there until at least 6pm. For once, walking seems to be an advantage over having a car in terms of getting to a desired destination more quickly.

There is something mesmeric about the bikers as they flash past us with our walking sticks. We have to force ourselves to continue and not be trapped there by their hypnotic spell, as hypnotic as the Millers’ wheel back in Winchester. We go over the famous Stepping Stones at the River Mole, at which Ronan recreates a favourite BBC TV programme of his youth: the Scottish action-adventure game show Raven. This takes more than one attempt.

We climb Box Hill to meet David Benjamins who was our Knight’s Yeoman. He is a forester and warden for the National Trust on Box Hill. He is also a poet and we hope he will be able to provide us with some verses to accompany his portrait.

We spend most of the day deep in beautiful woodland which conceals the deep ascent beneath us and encounter many fantastic fellow walkers: Anna & Chris and James & Anna! The landscape is a riot of colour with purples and yellows particularly vibrant.

For a couple of days now we have found limited opportunity for a stamp in our Pilgrim’s Passport. The passport is reference to the fact that in medieval times if you travelled any distance as a pilgrim you had to have permission to do so from the authoratites where you lived. Traveling as a group was safer than doing so individually, for there were many undeseriable characters you might encounter on the roads.

For instance, convicted prisoners were made to walk to the nearest port for transportation abroad. They were sent to so this alone, without anyone to ensure that they did so, meaning that many escaped to commit more crimes. The only vagabonds we encounter are those who insist on phoning us to tell us our internet has been compromised!

The magnificent view of the countryside beneath us appears and disappears as we oscillate between fields and tree tunnels. It is a humid day and much cutting back of brambles and nettles occurs. Ronan listens to the Carpenter’s rebuke against the Miller and is once again in fits of laughter. Lewd images swim in the summer sun. We arrive at the faded grandeur of the Regency Hotel where General Montgomery billited some of his troops before embarking for the North African campaign in the Second Word War. The night was enhanced by sharing dinner with our fellow pilgrims Felicity and Ian, who we first met back in New Alsford.

The Drummond Arms in the centre if Albury is a quintessential English country inn and it is easy to imagine Chaucer’s Pilgrims quaffing, quarraling and quavering within its confines. A relaxing garden with a running brook beside it is complimented indoors by a beautiful dining room, in which we enjoyed tapas and salmon the previous evening. The DA is run by South African couple Taz and Jay.

Chef Jay agrees to be photographed as our representative of Chaucer’s Cook. He discusses the Egyptian influence behind much of his menu due to some of the chefs he has employed. Although he is considerably more polite than the Cook (whose lewd tale is cut short by the shocked Prioress and the irate Host) he confesses that his tongue can become somewhat sharper in the kitchen!

Our next stop is the bustling village of Shere. Here, Ronan is convinced that we are passed by ex-Chelsea captain and England international footballer Gary Cahill walking his dog. David, meanwhile, photographs Carole who represents our Haberdasher in her beautiful, colourful shop. The nearby church is being readied for a wedding – thus explaining the many cars gathered nearby – but, alas, there is no stamp available for our Pilgrim’s Passport! Sadly we missed the two places in which these are kept but pressed on with our journey. When we undoubtedly return for a day trip we will be sure to get our stamp then!

After the next village, we ascend to the steep hills of the North Downs Way, which offer some spectacular views on this overcast but bright day. The presence of yew trees helps to indicate that our route is truly that of the Pilgrims. We stop to speak to Margaret, who is picking fresh blackberries outside her house.

The idyllic images continues on the hills with the typical English patchwork of fields. Up there, we chat with Neil and Sy, fellow walkers enjoying their lunch. Ronan enjoys the racy Miller’s Tale as we trundle through the hillside woods and audible laughter rings through the trees. One of these seems to chuckle back with the face of an old man smoking a cigarette.

The hotel at which we are staying feels a considerable cut above the usual Pilgrim’s inn, replete with rolling lawns and a highly inviting looking swimming pool. There is also a wedding taking place with a number of rowdy Chaucerian figures emerging from the crowd. The Miller again swims to the forefront of our minds.

Unfortunately we did not pack our trunks, so a swim is off the cards. However, we enjoy a highly relaxing evening after the many hills with David writing some reflections and Ronan organising his next foray up to the Edinburgh Fringe – perhaps he shall gain some further Chaucerian inspiration up there!

Despite being our shortest distance of the walk so far, today was one of the toughest due to the appearance of multiple hills and the humidity. Nonetheless, we set to our task with the target of meeting Father Andrews – our Monk figure – at 4pm.

The first few miles follow the possible original Pilgrims’ Way rather than the quieter North Downs Way. At Seale we visit a church for our a stamp to add to the ongoing collection in our Pilgrim’s Passports and we meet two women of the local parish who discussed the disruption wrought by a new neighbour’s building works.

The onward path shifts from stone to sand in a reflection of the geological changes, making uphill climbs harder due to our feet sinking into these unexpected dunes. Under the hot sun, we reach the Watts Gallery for an early lunch of cheese scones and tea (a developing theme).

The gallery is so named after the artists G.F and Mary Watts declared it an artist village. Perhaps their most astonishing achievement is the Watts Chapel, which was designed by Mary using the model of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, in a fusion of Art Nouveau, Romanesque and Egyptian styles. It is the kind of extravagant idyll one expects to locate in Rome or Cairo, not a leafy corner of Surrey.

As we continue our walk, the inscription of the Pilgrims’ Way appears more frequently on street names and houses. Down by Ferry Road, we cross the River Wey by bridge, with the ferry long gone and the locals enjoying some relief from the sun in the cold water. We pass St Catherine’s Hill, where the ruins of the church date back to 1317, a victim of the reformation but was famous in the 18th century when JMW Turner painted the St Catherine’s Fair held every September until the First World War.

As we pass by through forests, we listen to Chaucer’s The Knight’s Tale. Images of Palamon and Arcite fighting for the love of Emily swim before our eyes and make us reflect on how the writer might have used these woods as inspiration for the settings of his epic tales.

Our penultimate climb of the day was St. Martha’s Hill (sometimes called St. Martyr’s Hill after Thomas Becket). Here, we meet our (Wo)man of Law, Rosalind Malcolm QC, who is also an academic at University of Surrey. She specialises in Environmental Law, which feels like a highly appropriate fit for our walking project. The small, idyllic church stands as a lone structure atop the hill overlooking a breathtaking view and makes for a fine setting for our portrait of Rosalind.

We voyage onward to our second portrait of the day which necessitates a second, even steeper climb to St. Augustine Monastery. Here, we meet Father Andrew who is immediately welcoming with his dry sense of humour. We chat about monastery life, other monastic communities and the suitability of modernising Shakespeare onstage (Fr Andrew is in favour!)

He explains that he only entered the priesthood in his thirties after a career as a professional interior designer. The skills learnt there still inform much of what he does around the monastery and his artistic instincts are immediately noticeable as he questions David about his camera equipment.

The idyll of the monastery is another reminder of the local community’s toil, reinforced by another monk pushing his wheelbarrow up the steep hill as we walk downward towards the bus stop which will take us to our lodgings for the night.

The Drummond Arms is a bright and breezy pub, where we meet Jay the Chef, who agrees to be photographed the following morning, and we speak to Austin Tichenor of the Reduced Shakespeare Company about our trek thus far.

We set off from The Crown Hotel and first stopped to speak to repairman Chris at Rawles, the Austin Healey Car Restorers Centre. It was amazing to see these traditional models in development and a pleasure to meet another tradesman commited to their craft, as we have encountered on so many ocassions thus far on this expedition.

We walk through beautiful countryside, passing by the home of Lord Baden-Powell, founder of the Boy Scout movement, and a particular hero of David’s. Our first set meeting today is with Tim, a farmer who represents one of the better represented figures in The Canterbury Tales: the Ploughman. Coincidentally, Tim had been ploughing that very morning and tells us that they had not used it for years but that they’d got it out on the very day we arrived!

Tim’s primary work is in arable crops, with a full flock of sheep also under his watch. Although he does not gift him a tale, Chaucer represents the Ploughman as a thoroughly nice bloke and so it is with Tom. He treats us to a ride out into his fields and speaks about his passion for farming and the problems facing the industry in the wake of Brexit.

We are accompanied by his delightful dog named Ben after Ben Nevis, due to Tim’s Glasweigen heritage. The scenery is breathtaking and makes a stunning picture, although (as Tim says), it is difficult to always look out on the scenery with awe given that “this is my office.”

Nonetheless, Tim does a fine job of helping capture the importance of the countryside to our everyday lives and serves as a reminder that, whenever we buy a burger from McDonald’s or shop in Sainsbury’s, his dedication and labour have made these things possible.

We sadly leave Tim behind – who kindly refills our water bottles on this hot day – and trudge on to the final leg of today’s journey. A short stop is made in Farenham to take our bearings and have the now time honoured cup of tea, before walking on and changing from the St. Swithin’s Way to the North Downs Way: a significant crossroads in our pilgrimage.

We arrive at our lodgings for the night, The Princess Royal, and are met with the spectacular sight of a great many gleaming motorcycle. These are no ordinary bikes. They are Harley Davidsons and the front desk tells us that the montly gathering of the local “Chapter” is in town for its meeting.

We immediately strike up a conversation with members, including Lesley, who agrees to be photographed as our Dyer: she is a hairdresser and thus possesses the same power to change a look with great significance and impact. She also points us in the direction of another pilgrim which have assiduously sought: our Wife of Bath.

We find her in the form of Hilary, a female biker. She was a quite extraordinary woman. We will be unable to do her justice in this blog alone and she will warrant her on special post but suffice to say that she fully fulfils the criteria of a self-made, strong-willed, independent woman who immediately comes to mind when one thinks of the indomitable Wife of Bath.

In a hilarious and almost catastrophic twist of fate, Lesley kindly left us her numbers for the group’s regular lottery as she left, asking that, should we win, we put the money toward our walk. This seemed like a pleasant idea in the moment but, as the moment of truth approached, we looked at each other in fear and wondered how we could possibly walk up to collect our prize – as visibly non-Harley Davidson riders – in the mortifying event that we were triumphant.

Well, the next best thing happened. Out rang the announcer’s voice. “415!” he called. We looked down. The numbers are pictured below. We will leave you to deduce how we responded: