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Wales. You know you’re there from the instant you cross that invisible line from England. From the alphabet soup of consonants splattered across roadside signs to the straw hanging from the mouth’s of matted-haired locals. I’d threaded my way into…
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A rare ray of sunshine trickled through the window as we huddled over the large scale map covering the kitchen table, my uncle tracing his finger along a road. “ . . . then up out of Clun.” He paused…
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It was always going to be awkward. Creeping downstairs in my PJs in a stranger’s house, pushing through the living room door and sitting down in front of our host for the first time. But awkwardness settled quietly onto the…
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Cycling the Cumbrian countryside was always going to be a far cry from the Swan River loop. And as Colby pulled up Ireby, where we would spend our first month, on Google Street View we were filled with excitement. Sheep…
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