Coast to Coast 30. a Yorkshire ‘monsoon’: shiveringly cold, but Heaven on Earth to the devout rambler.

Suddenly a mighty squall was upon us. A lashing headwind drove raindrops straight at us. Rain on the face and the curiously comforting staccato drumming of heavy raindrops on the tight fitting hood, close against my ears, gave the final day a hint of the surreal. It was like main-streaming Morse code directly into the brain’s pleasure centre. The message was loud and clear: ‘Fantastic! Wouldn’t be dead for quids.’