Where have you come from? Are you camping?” “Minehead, and yeah, we’ve wild camped most of the way.” “I can tell; you have the look.” “The look?” “It’s touched you, it’s written all over you: you’ve felt the hand of nature. It won’t ever leave you now; you’re salted. I came here thirty years ago and never left. I swim here every day and walk the dog. People fight the elements, the weather, especially here, but when it’s touched you, when you let it be, you’re never the same again. Good luck, wherever your path takes you.”
