It’s unapologetically sentimental though not cloyingly so. Harold had abided by the British unspoken rule not to ask for help, yet it is constantly offered, and with such civility! The humanity of random strangers, those ‘great unwashed’ he’s spent a lifetime tuning out, offer insight and comfort. He draws the strength to keep going from his new found awareness of nature's intricate beauty. Simply walking requires behavior that’s totally out of character an ability to connect with both nature & mankind. Solitude forces him to open the door to his personal demons.

I wanted to shout “keep going Harold!”, to remind him of the adage ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ because Harold’s journey was testament to its truth.Ī journey just as much about having the courage to reflect back as about going forward. He just keeps walking in the belief that his journey will save her life. ‘For years they had been in a place where language had no significance’.

The Harold Fry that leaves to mail a letter to his dying friend is drained by life, full of self-loathing and incapable of mending his ruined marriage. As for Maureen, she finds herself missing Harold for the first time in years.Īnd then there is the unfinished business with Queenie Hennessy. Memories of his first dance with Maureen, his wedding day, his joy in fatherhood, come rushing back to him - allowing him to also reconcile the losses and the regrets. Along the way he meets one character after another, each of whom unlocks his long-dormant spirit and sense of promise. Still in his yachting shoes and light coat, Harold embarks on his urgent quest across the countryside. Harold Fry is determined to walk six hundred miles from Kingsbridge to the hospice in Berwick-upon-Tweed because, he believes, as long as he walks, Queenie Hennessey will live. But then, as happens in the very best works of fiction, Harold has a chance encounter, one that convinces him that he absolutely must deliver his message to Queenie in person. Harold pens a quick reply and, leaving Maureen to her chores, heads to the corner mailbox. Queenie Hennessy is in hospice and is writing to say goodbye. Then one morning the mail arrives, and within the stack of quotidian minutiae is a letter addressed to Harold in a shaky scrawl from a woman he hasn't seen or heard from in twenty years.

Little differentiates one day from the next. He lives in a small English village with his wife, Maureen, who seems irritated by almost everything he does, even down to how he butters his toast.

The unlikely pilgrimage