The Cambrian Way
‘If you make it to Conwy,’ promised a kindly publican with a tattoo of an Uzi submachine gun on her upper arm, ‘come back here and there’ll be a pint…
‘If you make it to Conwy,’ promised a kindly publican with a tattoo of an Uzi submachine gun on her upper arm, ‘come back here and there’ll be a pint…
The reason we had trouble finding the entrance to our campsite was because you had to go through a working scrapyard. As you emerged from the piles of crumpled Mondeos…
Around this time last year, Dave and I put together a short PDF guide to the St Olav pilgrim trails in Norway. Since I posted it, a full English-language print…
I’m finally back at my cottage, conspicuous from afar in our well-kept village on account of its wild, untrimmed hedges and a little front garden so overgrown that you can…
So here I am. The border cairn at Treriksröset, my finish line at the Finnish line. Fifty-six days and 1391km on the trail, and my Green Ribbon is over. It’s…