Italia 2019: Day 2, and we walk our legs off seeing the city
We knew we had very little time in Siena, because the focus on this trip is the walk in the Tuscan Hills; but there was no way we were not going to see as...
Author: Chris Bounds
Italia 2019: It’s Day One and we survive a bum-numbing trip across the world
It’s a wonder that we keep doing this to ourselves, and after more than a decade of economy travelling. Both of us suffering post-Term 3 stress and faced with a 14-leg followed by a...
Dashing to Dover, Meandering to Munich and Staying in Salzburg
19th – 25th November, 2018 The original plan to my visit to Claire had revolved around the mad idea that I could leave Dover on the ferry and toddle across the Continent by rail...
Just being a tourist
Sunday 19 November, 2018 My weather prognostications from yesterday came true: as soon as I put my head out the door this morning, I realised the temperature had dropped. Winter has arrived in the...
The South Coast by the numbers
Just done a spreadsheet crunching the numbers from various apps – it makes interesting reading, particularly to an orthopaedic surgeon.
Plymouth! Hoe!
Saturday 17 November, 2018 My last day on the Southern Coast (as the bit I’ve done is called) was long but increasingly enjoyable as the murk of the last few days dissipated and the...
Pooped in Portwrinkle
Friday 16 November, 2018 Today was neither here not there. It was neither too long or too hard, and had the sun been shining, I would have wandered along quite happily. The sea mist...
Forefathers, Fowey and Fog
Wednesday 14 and Thursday 15 November, 2018 Yes, I’m addicted to alliteration. Sold on series of syllables. Casting my lot with the consonants. It’s the cheats’ way to create a title, loved and abused...
The China Clay Coast
Tuesday 13 November, 2018 Tomorrow will be a day of milestones: 21 days since Paula went home 14 days on the path 17 days in Cornwall I started a spreadsheet to calculate the distances...
The roller coaster coast
Monday, 12 November 2018 It’s been a day of contrasts, from leaving the very comfie Lugger Hotel at Portloe (even the English breakfast was a bit posh, with only ONE egg), to the spartan...