Unlike in Spain, where hostels dot the camino, accommodation is trickier to find here. Soon after I passed Sinclair with his hammer, I found my way well marked into the Hampshire village of Little London, where home for the night was the Chapel, a 19th-century Methodist church turned cosy B&B. However, I did finally start my pilgrim stamp collection in Silchester’s 12th-century church. These once hugged a forum, temples and streets thronging with traders now there are only skylarks and pasture. It was lovely, easy strolling for much of the day, via the vast Roman settlement of Silchester, where I detoured to circuit the well-preserved walls.

But I soon left the town behind for the serene blue-green Kennet and Avon canal, which is alive with dog walkers, cheerful barges, mallards and red kites. That this venerable site is just minutes from the Pret and Nando’s of the Oracle shopping centre is both a jolt and a reminder that a pilgrimage is not all about “pretty”.

View image in fullscreen Saint James’s church in Reading, with scallop shell signage