It was somewhere we had been when I was a child, Gran Bong and I, and it has always held a special place in my mind. It fascinates me that from a parcel of clothes dangerous and killing bacteria was warmed by a fire and then one by one the villagers started to die.
What I find most touching is the fact that the entire village cut itself off from everyone so that even though it was killing them it would never kill anyone past the ‘boundary stones’. Everywhere you go there are plaques reminding you of the sites and deaths that would have been witnessed there, and even though it was a stunningly beautiful day today you can still feel a hint of the past in the air.
It’s made me start to think as to what could be a new book idea… I know I know I have so many of them but never take them further. Well I’ve a feeling this one I think is going to stick, time will tell I guess as I also have a really complex one that has come to mind after Sundays events. I haven’t written about Sunday, I will when I get back. You cant blame me for getting caught up in a small town, where we ate in a haunted pub, that has seen so much history. Inspirational.