Our progress across Britain, watching unhappily as the country changed and sharing the consolations of poetry, has reached its final stop. Home will be different when we get there
An hour before we leave our hotel in Biggar to drive to St Andrews, I invite the others on the tour into my room to watch the live broadcast of the opening of the Scottish Parliament at which the new makar, Jackie Kay, is reading her specially commissioned poem, Threshold. It’s a movingly fitting penultimate moment to our strange journey.
Related: Carol Ann Duffy introduces poems for our love of bookshops
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