Again, it is a day and walk where the Welsh landscape contracts to fields and fence lines but occasionally opens up to an expansive view: firstly, sea views all the way to the Great Orme and later opening to reveal the Vale of Clwyd (pictured) with the grey swathe of the busy and constantly thrumming A55 snaking towards the west. Our first day’s walk had featured some of my brother-in-law’s childhood haunts, including the bridge where he dangled his legs as a youngster to watch the trains go by. But on day 2—Trelawnyd to St Asaph—it was Lee’s and my turn as we approached our birthplace. Several miles previous, in Tremeirchion, we met an elderly farmer who knew our family from St Asaph. When he placed that we were the Parrys from the bottom of the town, we could then move on to chat about other things. A nice moment. In the approach to St Asaph we skirted the back of a new housing estate, which was formerly H. M. Stanley Hospital: so named, for the child of St Asaph that tracked Livingstone across southern Africa and also where my siblings and I were born. We passed the primary school that I attended when I was four and finished at the cathedral, which dominates the St Asaph skyline and High Street.