I write my memoirs beginning with sadness. I faced my wife's death from coronavirus, I'm following the hearse to the graveyard in a limousine, observed by sympathetic neighbours from behind net curtains. I alone would attend her funeral in these uncertain times.I returned to an empty house, disillusioned, remembering a book I'd written many years ago. I decided to take one last adventure from Long Marston to the Scottish Highlands to discover what I wanted out of life in my remaining years.I set off by following the route I initially took, enjoying my own company until destiny decided otherwise. Life suddenly became strange, I'm involved in a murder and confronted by a young woman from my past determined to organise my life.If that isn't weird enough, what transpires over the next few months can only be described as bizarre unless you are a Knight Templar in the Royal circle of friends and a pirate!