" There's no way you can get access to that!" I guessed the password." How?" My hangover was coming back and I took another swig."It's my name and the...year I was born. It didn't take me long."She took the flask from me and drank delicately."You're driving," I told her."There's no rush to go anywhere," she said.I opened the window. The sun shone on bright pink campion straggling among the brambles. Forget-me-nots and stitchwort were fresh among the grass. Small birds courted noisily in the trees. He introduced me to The Ramblers Association, a group of walkers that had started officially in 1935, the year that Colin was born. Their local branch was a very mixed bunch by age, sex and occupation, but they all loved to walk, and I joined them. I had always walked a lot; remember, I never had a car. I walked the parks because I loved the greenery and the changes with the seasons, but I’d never walked in open country.I soon got a real taste for it, and I actually enjoyed the physical. More

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