Eight years ago, for the closing chapter of a book about the regeneration of five towns in the North of England, the lead consultant asked me to dip my pen in a bottle of Scotch and come up with something lyrical.
That I did, and I now need to come up with something equally lyrical to entice walkers from around the world to visit
and sample what is surely one of the world’s premier trails. This time around, I’ll dip my pen in a bottle of pure cane juice rum: the kind of intoxicating spirit that would have been brewed at the trail-side sugar works shown in today’s picture one hundred and fifty years ago. Dominica