I grew up in a Suffolk village during the 1960s, where the summer holidays and fine weekends were spent out in the countryside. As children, our imaginative games took us across fields, through woods, down to the river and up trees! If our parents asked us where we were going, we said, out. If questioned about our expected time of arrival home, we said, later, the truth being that we never knew what adventures the day would bring. My childhood memories provided ideas for Huberts adventures as he and his friends explored the countryside during their long journey.
In the village where I lived there was a Franciscan Friary, and the friars in their long brown robes and sandals would often be seen walking along the lanes. They were very kind to the village children and we regarded them as our guardian angels who would be there if we needed help, just like St. Francis in Huberts story.