MEMOIR
As I Continue My Virtual Journey Along The Salt Path, I Compare The Winn’s Risky Adventure To My Own
One of my pet peeves (in addition to the expression pet peeves) is the person who turns every conversation back to himself . . . ok, they come in both genders — herself.
The term is conversational narcissist. Whatever you’re talking about — picking avocados on a California mountainside while wearing a polka dot bikini — the CN will find a way to liken it to his, or her, latest skydiving thrill in outer Mongolia.
I hate that.
So, maybe I shouldn’t compare Ray and Moth Winn’s decision to start hiking England’s arduous 630 miles Southwest Coast Path with my own decision to move to France alone.
But I’m going to do it anyway.
The Winn’s had very little money, and old equipment and Moth had recently been diagnosed with a terminal health condition. I was healthy enough for a 68 eight-year-old woman, but money was tight — Social Security, and not much else — I knew nobody in France and barely spoke the language.
But back to the Winns. Reeling from a bad investment and prolonged legal battle that had left them homeless, they were dealt another blow when Moth was diagnosed with an incurable and degenerative disease.
