Harold Fry randomly opts to go for a walk one day. He is no Forrest Gump, nor is he a Frodo Baggins, he's just Harold. Sometimes when you find out an estranged friend is dying in a hospice, you want to do more than write a letter of sympathy. In Harold's case, he takes his letter from postbox to postbox and knows that it won't be enough, so he decides to walk 500 miles in the tradition of the Proclaimers. The importance in the walk lies with all the elements that Harold leaves behind in his 21st century life - for a time yes, he has his debit card, but he doesn't bring walking shoes, a mobile phone, a GPS, or even a compass to aid him on his trip. Imagine yourself without your phone, or your favored gas-guzzling mode of transportation. What would you think about? What regrets would spring to mind? Follow Harold for awhile and his troubles will lay themselves on the road ahead during the length of his trip. I admire a title that utilizes something as simple as putting one foot in front of the other to stir up long-forgotten memories, and make the reader (and Harold) wonder where the time has gone (and why we're so tied to the homestead/modern conveniences). As with many quaint British tales, I can easily see this as a serene, sad film with a tall, yet hunched fellow embracing the horizon despite his terribly hurt feet. This title is recommended for anyone that requires inspiration to get out of the house, of any age, or anyone that enjoys a story with the message of "It's not too late". What you make of that message is up to you.