2020 retrospective – three weeks in the north of Scotland
Spending three weeks in one of the most beautiful parts of the world this summer.
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Oh, to be at the coast in Britain on a summer’s day, with a light breeze blowing and nothing else to do but marvel at the beauty of it all.
Moods of Seaton
One has to wonder what happened in the Devon seaside town of Seaton to bring it from a self-touted “artisanal haven” to its current dilapidated state.
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Sandbanks peninsula, Dorset
A small community on the British coast, near Poole in Dorset, is a prime piece of land. Measuring just eighty-eight metres at its narrowest point, the peninsula is amongst the most expensive pieces of real estate in the world, after cities like London and Tokyo.
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The Jurassic Coast
Mattia Bicchi smashes it out of the park again with this wonderful time-lapse video of the Jurassic Coast in the south of England.
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One man, one camera, 6,000 miles
The Perimeter is a photography project by Quintin Lake, based on walking 10,000km around the coast of Britain in sections. The journey started on 17th April 2015 at St Paul’s cathedral.
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Land’s End
Our holiday to the south of England this summer took us to the most south-westerly point of the British mainland.
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Tintagel Not-Castle
I was a little disappointed that the “castle” at Tintagel was little more than a few bits of wall at the coast. (I suppose I have been spoiled by the castle ruins at Dunnotar and Tantallon.) Our walk along the coast path, doing battle with the wind, was lovely anyway, with foxgloves (a memory from […]
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Trebarwith Strand
We recently spent a lovely couple of weeks on holiday, touring the south of England and spending a full week in Cornwall. On arrival at the self-catering cottage we’d booked, we chose to make things easy for ourselves and head to the Port William Inn for a pub dinner in one of the few buildings at the seaward […]
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Childhood holidays
With hindsight, one of the things which drew me to the home where we now live is how many little details of it are similar to where I spent childhood holidays. Not the mountains, but the sweep of a shore line, the little houses dotted across the hillside, the wild grasses waving in the breeze, the winding lanes, the odd wooden telegraph pole carrying electricity to a house half-hidden.
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