by n. She would never be seen again. For five decades he has wrestled with his guilt. Now he has opened up to the BBC’s Jon Kay in a new true-crime podcast Fairy Meadow Short presentational grey line “People tell me it wasn’t my fault. I’ve been told that thousands of times. I know I was only seven years old, but I shouldn’t have left her.” Ricki is walking a personal pilgrimage. His waterproof trousers are splattered with mud and ripped from barbed wire fences. His boots have started to leak and his feet are covered in blisters. But still, he is walking. He was planning to hang photos of his little sister onto trees as he walked in her memory, but suddenly the idea is too painful. He puts the black and white pictures back inside his rucksack. “I can’t leave her out in the cold. I just can’t do it. I can’t bear the idea of her smiling face being out here. Not in the wind and rain.” He has brought the ribbon-tied bundles more than 16,000km (10,000 miles) – from his home in Melbourne, Australia – to northern Spain. He is trekking 200km through the chilly Cantabrian Mountains along part of the Camino pilgrim route. “I’m not a religious person. Not at all. I mean, what kind of religion would allow it to happen? She was only three years old.” Hearing his accent, other walkers ask why he has come to Europe to hike alone in the depths of winter. It must be summer back home. Wouldn’t he rather be on the beach? Ricki’s smile becomes a wrinkled frown. Now in his late 50s, he tells them he doesn’t like the beach. Cheryl – Ricki’s three-year-old sister – vanished in broad daylight from Fairy Meadow beach in New South Wales in early 1970 n. She would never be seen again. For five decades he has wrestled with his guilt. Now he has opened up to the BBC’s Jon Kay in a new true-crime podcast Fairy Meadow. Short presentational grey line “People tell me it wasn’t my fault. I’ve been told that thousands of times. I know I was only seven years old, but I shouldn’t have left her.” Ricki is walking a personal pilgrimage. His waterproof trousers are splattered with mud and ripped from barbed wire fences. His boots have started to leak and his feet are covered in blisters. But still, he is walking. He was planning to hang photos of his little sister onto trees as he walked in her memory, but suddenly the idea is too painful. He puts the black and white pictures back inside his rucksack. “I can’t leave her out in the cold. I just can’t do it. I can’t bear the idea of her smiling face being out here. Not in the wind and rain.” He has brought the ribbon-tied bundles more than 16,000km (10,000 miles) – from his home in Melbourne, Australia – to northern Spain. He is trekking 200km through the chilly Cantabrian Mountains along part of the Camino pilgrim route. “I’m not a religious person. Not at all. I mean, what kind of religion would allow it to happen? She was only three years old.” Hearing his accent, other walkers ask why he has come to Europe to hike alone in the depths of winter. It must be summer back home. Wouldn’t he rather be on the beach? Ricki’s smile becomes a wrinkled frown. Now in his late 50s, he tells them he doesn’t like the beach. Cheryl – Ricki’s three-year-old sister – vanished in broad daylight from Fairy Meadow beach in New South Wales in early 1970 n. She would never be seen again. For five decades he has wrestled with his guilt. Now he has opened up to the BBC’s Jon Kay in a new true-crime podcast Fairy Meadow. Short presentational grey line “People tell me it wasn’t my fault. I’ve been told that thousands of times. I know I was only seven years old, but I shouldn’t have left her.” Ricki is walking a personal pilgrimage. His waterproof trousers are splattered with mud and ripped from barbed wire fences. His boots have started to leak and his feet are covered in blisters. But still, he is walking. He was planning to hang photos of his little sister onto trees as he walked in her memory, but suddenly the idea is too painful. He puts the black and white pictures back inside his rucksack. “I can’t leave her out in the cold. I just can’t do it. I can’t bear the idea of her smiling face being out here. Not in the wind and rain.” He has brought the ribbon-tied bundles more than 16,000km (10,000 miles) – from his home in Melbourne, Australia – to northern Spain. He is trekking 200km through the chilly Cantabrian Mountains along part of the Camino pilgrim route. “I’m not a religious person. Not at all. I mean, what kind of religion would allow it to happen? She was only three years old.” Hearing his accent, other walkers ask why he has come to Europe to hike alone in the depths of winter. It must be summer back home. Wouldn’t he rather be on the beach? Ricki’s smile becomes a wrinkled frown. Now in his late 50s, he tells them he doesn’t like the beach. Cheryl – Ricki’s three-year-old sister – vanished in broad daylight from Fairy Meadow beach in New South Wales in early 1970
