Over a quarter century ago, I went on two expeditions to the mountains in what is called the Lake District- North of Manchester but South of Scotland- famous in Britain for its beauty and associations with the Romantic poets, like Wordsworth and Coleridge.
Two memories: my best friend and I, in some little café, in a town with a name too rude in English to write in this article, enjoying the attentions of a pretty, young waitress. We had been walking in the surrounding hills for several days practising wild living, and finally were getting a bit of civilisation- coffee, cake, and… pleasant society. The second thing I recall is taking my socks off after 50km of walking, seeing the bone beneath the skin where the boot…