If we had to choose our “special place”, Andy and I would always choose Exmoor National Park. It’s a place we often escape to. Straddling the Somerset/Devon border, Exmoor’s coastline is littered with

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

YOU can’t just throw it all in a skip, Mum!” Bryony’s voice was muffled by a dust mask as she crouched in the loft space, carefully avoiding bumping her head on the beams. She examined a battered trun

“ Parked up at The Little Roadway Farm Campsite at the top of Challacombe Hill, we excitedly made our way across the National Trust car park and then carefully down the old Smugglers Path towards town

AS I hang my clothes in the wardrobe of the hotel room we’re sharing, I feel my sister Clare’s eyes on me. Through a mirror, I catch the thoughtful look on her face. It’s a look that’s often there, bu

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