Walk in parts of Devon and Somerset and you walk the footsteps, opium dreams and Romantic poetry of Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
Ssandwood-bayandwood Bay in north Scotland is famous for its remote beauty. It’s also a place of legend, shipwrecks, fugitives and ghosts.
Dickens is the master of London writing but a grisly and compelling scene in Little Dorrit was inspired by his travels in the Swiss Alps.
In the spring of 2015 four intrepid dashing gentlemen cycled through the Western Isles (Outer Hebrides) battling storms, rain and mountains. I was not one of them. I took the sensible option and hitched a ride in the dry, warm support van.
Night walking a country lane, exploring local Shropshire ghosts and watching a winter sunrise on the eerie Titterstone Clee Hill.
A strange encounter and killer clowns in an abandoned fairground.
The river of lost footprints. The road to Mandalay. The river that brings blessings to the people. If nothing else the Ayeyarwady (or Irrawaddy) River is evoked by a great line, and Kipling’s poem of nostalgia and longing.