Yesterday's walk set me thinking about the impermanence of what we see. We stood on a hillside overlooking the river, heavy with the coconut scent of gorse, while David Butler told us the history of this patch of land: once this was the entrance to a drift mine, and when that closed the site became a rubbish tip. Now only the unevenness of the ground hinted at its past uses.

Today the Readers of the Lost Art - or those of us who could get away during the day - put our boots on, and went for a walk in the park, escorted by historian David Butler. The plan had been to go as far as the Belmont viaduct and back in the morning, but that hadn't taken into account how much there was to look at and to ask questions about, and how many stories there were to tell.

These days, Durham Prison is a category B local prison, and John McVicar is a journalist; but back in the 1960s, John McVicar was an armed robber who acquired the title of Public Enemy Number 1 (it was a slow year, he says now) and Durham was the high security jail where he was imprisoned.

Bryan Talbot is one of Britain's comics stars, with an international reputation both for the comics he writes and draws solo (such as the groundbreaking The Adventures of Luther Arkwright and The Tale of One Bad Rat which won an Eisner award - the comics equivalent of an Oscar). (Read more about Bryan, and see some of his work, on his web site).

There are stories all along the riverbanks, and one of the best is the story of Saint Godric, who ended his life near Finchale priory.

According to my Penguin Dictionary of Saints, Godric was born near Kings Lynn in Norfolk in 1065 (though that seems unlikely, since he lived until 1170), made a living as a pedlar and then went to sea where he became a wealthy trader. Reginald of Durham, who knew him, said that his early life was disorderly and his business methods dishonest - perhaps this is why he felt the need to go on several pilgrimages, and ultimately become a hermit.