Upon finishing this astonishing memoir by Jill Smith, the reader may find it difficult not to judge her as either an inspirational, deeply passionate and intuitive mystic, or a hopelessly naive, irresponsible drop-out. Or perhaps a bit of both. I know I did at first. But any opinions are rendered insignificant in light of her central achievement: walking hundreds of miles around Britain carrying much of what she owned in a rucksack, with a baby strapped to her front, as […]