The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Tessa Barrie


I apologise to Harold Fry’s creator, Rachel Joyce, for the analogy in the title of this post. Of course my epic journey would have been nothing like as dramatic as Harold’s. But the thought hit me, when walking along the beach around about Trafal in the Algarve the other day, in an attempt to burn off breakfast, before contemplating lunch … well, I am on holiday.

The calm sea and the bluest of blue skies were just magnificent.

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Inspirational in fact. I felt as close as I have ever been to the Universe.

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So close in fact that I felt was reaching out to it spiritually and it gave me a warm, positive feeling about the future. The temptation to carry on walking in the sunshine was overwhelming.

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Alas, if Harold Fry had been ill equipped for his journey, then I was even less so. Dressed in swimwear, bare feet and no money, I wouldn’t have got very far. Also by the time I got to Quarteira, my stomach started to rumble. Hopefully one day, when I am retired and have no time restraints, I will walk along the coast of The Algarve, stay the night somewhere, then walk back again, communing with the Universe as I go. It is on my Bucket List.

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