Like most people of my generation I thought I knew how to walk (even though I hardly ever bothered to) until I actually (very recently) learned how. I became what you might say a born-again walker or a peripatitis of some conviction. It started earlier in the year as an attempt at moderate exercise. It gradually grew into a good healthy daily habit as I traversed the streets of my beautiful sea-side West Sussex town in the south of England, in late winter and early spring, admiring the well-kept famous English gardens or gazing at the distant horizon beyond the ocean. It finally turned into an inspiration during my visit over the Easter period in my hometown of Heraklion in Crete.
