November 2006, Caroline and I visited my mother in France. On one excursion we went to the impressive town of Rocamdour, built into the cliff above a river. From the top of the cliff you can descend through the white-stoned town, winding down steps and into courtyards, pretending you are in Lord of the Rings. Hundreds of years ago, pilgrims would ascend to the the churches on their knees.