We arrive at the top of High Cup Nick in the North Pennines. “It’s like the world starts just over there,” comments my friend Mark. He’s pointing down the U-shaped chasm of High Cup Gill, beyond whose

S INCE MOVING TO THE SOUTH West and ...

AS hotel names go, this one’s a little unusual. Across Church Street, where I’m standing in the Welsh Border town of Chirk, is the Hand Hotel. Parts of it date back to 1610, during the reign of James

JB Smith goes searching for solitude in the forested folds of the Rhinogs – and finds himself falling under the spell of Eryri/Snowdonia’s quieter side

(Photograph taken in 1888) As a family, we first stayed at Rothay Manor in Ambleside in 1953 and it was then that I had my first experiences in fell walking, trout fishing and negotiating the nearby s

The Wicklow Mountains are where I first fell in love with the outdoors. When I was six, my dad decided it would be a brilliant idea for our family of three to spend two weeks walking along the Irish c