I can even see the sense of going on retreat, or at least for a long walk. It is the urge to make solitude permanent that defeats me – especially when both Maitland and Whiteaker suggest it is a good idea to consult an experienced “spiritual director” occasionally. “The voices I hear on the wind are quite fun,” says Maitland, “but I would advise having a spiritual director: to help distinguish whether it is just the way the brain processes sound, whether God is talking to you, or you are going bonkers.” Maitland and Whiteaker are two of the most talkative people you could encounter – and neither seems bonkers. And yet, says Whiteaker, when the visitor leaves and the talking stops, “It is like diving into a huge sea, silence surrounding me like water, incredibly welcoming. I feel absolutely right.” When I ask for more explanation, he shakes his head. “You are touching on something I don’t know how to explain.” He insists on going into the garden and digging up some produce for me. I take his gift. He brings his hands together as if in prayer. “Bless you.” With a bag of potatoes, some fresh mint, and maybe some imparted wisdom, I return to the city.