“Will someone steal my coat?” “No, you’re on a holy pilgrimage,” my son’s Irish carer-companion Rosemarie reassured him. We were going to Lourdes, where in 1858 a poor peasant girl, Bernadette Soubirous, had eighteen visions of the Virgin Mary. At London Stansted Airport I’d lost a tooth. I had a bad knee and an ancient foot injury.
- Unlimited access to spectator.com.au and app
- The weekly edition on the Spectator Australia app
- Spectator podcasts and newsletters
- Full access to spectator.co.uk