I love to read a story. I love to walk my dog. A graveyard walk combines the two. Sounds grim but it’s a peaceful thing to do in a busy city like London. Reading the inscriptions on the ancient tombstones, noting the old-fashioned names, imagining the lives lived and lost, and all the while Teddy next to me, sniffing, pulling, dragging me to yet another marble plinth/stone cross/tangled hedge, his doggedness leading me away from anything too maudlin. It’s the best balance for an urban dog walker.
