That’s the question that lies behind my new book, The Sacred Combe.
After all, we’ve all got one. A secret, special place: enclosed, set apart, hidden. Here the wildlife seems richer, more confiding. Here the birds are slightly more exotic, the grass greener and the fruit sweeter. To know such a place, to love such a place, is part of being human.
Sometimes it’s a place of myth, like the Garden of Eden. Sometimes it exists in fictional form, like Narnia or Shangri-La. Sometimes it comes in memories of a golden day in childhood, or in a glorious, doomed love affair. Sometimes it’s a real place that we daren’t go back to, for fear that it – or we – had changed.
And just occasionally it’s a real place. A place where you leave a small piece of your heart and return as often as you can so as not to lose it. It’s a place of privilege.
The book begins with my first night in the Luangwa Valley in Zambia, and it was a homecoming. I knew I had come home when I woke in the middle of the night to find a small group of elephants eating my hut.
In the book I have combined memories of Luangwa and the sense of privilege that everyone feels within its walls, with the eternal search for the sacred combe: for the special places of the world, for the places packed with meaning.
The book will be published in January, and I’m delighted to be able to offer a 25 per cent discount. Here’s a link http://bloomsbury.com/uk/the-sacred-combe-9781472914026/
Add SACRED25 when you reach the check-out and you’re home and hosed.
Pleases read it and tell me about your own sacred combe.