A previously cancelled ferry is also late a late delivering one, sparking a time trial fever to attempt to get unfeasibly far down the road as planned.

Thankfully, an off route but utterly fascinating Neolithic burial chamber (pictured) cured the fever, and I settled for a new closer night stop with John and Mary Evans, very kindly arranged last minute. I still arrived in the pitch black and utterly bedraggled.

Their 30-year run B&B converted farmhouse and barn, with children and grandchildren in spitting distance, certainly planted a few seeds that could bear fruit in a few decades to come. Their home-made apple juice, cornucopia of jams, and own honey seemed an outward expression of a fertility of soul found within.