... and relax.

And so begins the return process, part two. Walked down to the Cam

took the obligatory selfie, returned passed King's College, picked up bread, another coffee and a cinnamon twist and I am now on the - waiting for replacement crew - not delayed but now delayed 9am to Peterborough. Let it go. It's just another part of the Decline and Fall of the British Empire.

At 9.09am I am heading home! Peterborough then Doncaster then finally into Leeds, where I arrived around 12noon.

And I didn't let it get to me. A couple of halves in FoH and Whitelocks and hung about in Brownhill and Co for a while enjoying the fine quality products Richard always sells: it Leeds's Mecca for good quality beer from all over the world!

But it's only beer. And the same is true of the beer they sell in Mews. Life is not beer. Beer is a minor character, a bit player, Tuesday and Wednesday were dominated by beer. So much so mother and I got into our locked horned relationship once more: just one day back! So this morning she'll have a face like slapped baboon... But I am not going back onto that path. Otherwise all the pilgrimages I have been on since 2013 are meaningless. They saved me from complete anonymity at a time when I was drinking myself further away from the truth: but I woke one night and heard this is not the truth and it set me thinking...

On another note: why don't any of the people I know ever ask me why I am on pilgrimage? The assumption that a 800km walking is a holiday ... through hell ... but a holiday and nothing beyond that. Is it because people I know don't know that there is something else? That I am seeking this truth I am certain exists for me on a road less travelled?