<p>'As a boy, I would walk out into the fields alone. Looking south, I set my eyes on the far ridge, wondering, not knowing, what lay beyond it. What world existed there? Now, as a man, I stand on the top of the Downs, up on the mountains green. To the south, the land folds down to the sea, but to the north the boy is there looking back at me?'<br>In a series of joyous, reflective and inspired diary pieces, Peter Owen Jones takes us on a voyage t...