After a city stretch we thought we’d be ready for some mountains, countryside and hiking. Like Boabdil, I gave a last sigh, and tore myself away from Granada. He had negotiated a settlement with the Catholic Monarchs, agreeing to surrender the city in return for the Alpujarras valleys, 30,000 gold coins, and political and religious freedom for his subjects. We were following in his footsteps … Continue reading Capileira – Hiking The Sierras.
Everyday we walked through the Albayzin along the Barranco de las Naranjas and Barranco de los Negros – romantic names which conjured up images of the Moors, their legends and history – on cobblestone paths, past white-washed cave houses, cactus plants, scrubland, and at every turn there was one glorious view of the Alhambra after another. Past an ad-hoc cafe that made use of … Continue reading Granada’s Albayzin.
Breakfast: Omelegg. For a great start to the day, omelettes of every description. Leaving Omelegg, turn right and walk up the Ferdinand Bolstraat to the Albert Cuyp Market, after 350 metres on the right. The best known market in Holland, and with over 260 stalls, possibly the largest day market in Europe. When the fish stalls close down for the day, and the street is … Continue reading Foodie Heaven: A Tour of Amsterdam’s De Pijp.
Toiling up and down coastal cliffs from White Nothe to Durdle Door was breath-taking in more ways than one. But it was a piece of cake compared to what came next. Spectacular views come at a price – at least for us – up and down, up and down, ‘and when they were only half-way up they were neither up nor down’. I felt like … Continue reading More Summer On The South West Coast.
The English non summer didn’t stop us getting some walking in. Tully and Harley didn’t care about rain or grey skies and nor we decided should we. As Ruskin said there is no such thing as bad weather – just bad clothes. Besides the South West Coast path ran almost in front of the door, and it would have been a crime to miss it. … Continue reading Summer On The South West Coast.
Ernest Hemingway described Venice as a ‘strange, tricky town’ and walking in it as ‘better than walking crossword puzzles’. ‘You stay one month’, Nicola spluttered, ‘what are you going to do’? We want to walk, and walk, and then walk some more, I told him. There’s nowhere in Venice that you cannot reach on foot. A tiny city, only twice the size of central … Continue reading Walking
February. We’d arranged to look after Sophie and Bobby in the New Forest. Two labradors. One golden. One chocolate. Both gorgeous. Sophie is nine. A dog with selective hearing. Always hanging back, rolling in something unsavoury, eating something disgusting. She’ll come back when she’s ready, tongue lolling, looking up at me as if she’s laughing; sticking her nose into my pocket hoping for a treat. … Continue reading Out of Season. Out of Time.
‘We will take what nature gives us. I’m not going to squeeze the nature’. We were about to step into the wild. I felt a mixture of emotion. A thrill of excitement. A whole lot more fear. ‘Whatever happens don’t run. It’s not good to die tired’. Aron, the head ranger was holding forth. ‘You too are very bright’, he said, nodding at the Germans, … Continue reading Far, Far From The Madding Crowd.