The road to Little Dribbling

I've been walking along the backroads of England for nine days with Bill Bryson. It's been a pleasant experience, mostly (though, be warned, if you plan to journey with this fellow that he goes off at the drop of a hat, and he has a rather foul mouth to go along with his rather foul temper). He stops in every tiny dot of a town and he tends to find each spot somewhat disappointing. He made much the same journey many years ago, and, like those of us of a certain age, seems to discover that the years have not been kind to most of rural England. It's not as easy to get to these little towns now. The food isn't quite as tasty. The souvenir shops have moved in. And so on. And so on. He's humorous, of course, and that's what keeps us enthralled. But there were many times along this journey that I wished he'd just go home if he was so disenchanted.