When you’re walking long distances, your feet find their own rhythm, allowing your mind and ears to fall in step so that the act of putting one foot in front of another becomes a vehicle for your thoughts… […]
Looking down from Dachstein’s lofty summits Hallstatt looked even more perfect, soft and serene against the sheer cliffs which make the town appear as though it’s doing a balancing act… […]
The latest trigger for the alarm bells going off was spotting a series of letters and symbols chalked above some doors whilst we were hiking in Germany. […]
If I’m honest, the words ‘Germany’ and ‘gastronomy’ have never readily coupled in my mind… the reality of our experience versus our preconceptions was both wide of the mark, and on the nose, in equal measure. […]
In a year packed with trails leading into forests, volcanic plains, gorges, valleys and along mountain paths these are five routes which stood out from the rest. […]
“So, is it black?” Our neighbour wasn’t the first person to ask the question after hearing I’d just spent two weeks walking through Germany’s immense Black Forest. […]
We were researching routes on Fuerteventura and had parked in La Pared to reccie the area for any suitable walks.
La Pared has got to be one of the most depressing places I’ve ever visited. […]
The views in Gran Canaria are simply ‘bigger’ than on most of the other Canary Islands; there’s no monumentous volcano to dominate as there is on Tenerife. […]
There might be views of the Alps but the Cannero Riviera has more of a feel of the Mediterranean about it, with the air perfumed by lime, lemon, orange and… […]
We’d crossed gorges, been questioned by the police and braved waterfalls to walk from Austria to Germany and one thing was stopping us from reaching our destination. […]
Suddenly the silence was shattered by the thunder of hooves and the cracks of a thousand tiny branches snapping… […]
There isn’t even a sign pointing to the Mirador de Abrante above Agulo on La Gomera yet. But, as we dragged our dusty, sticky bodies the final few metres across… […]
For the third year in a row we find ourselves huffing, puffing and sweating buckets as we climb a hot hillside on the Canary Island of La Gomera in high summer. […]
Sparked by the view of the cemetery on the hill and despite the effort of the climb, all the way up Hetty regales us with tales of her grandmother, a woman who fought hard all her life to make a home for her family… […]
I have to confess to being so overwhelmed by Cape Verde I don’t know where to begin – so many thoughts, so many memories of surprisingly lush ribeiras, the bluest waters… […]
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