They’re rich and arrogant and don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. They think that just because they charge £30,000 a year per student and a couple of their ex-pupils were Prime Minister they can do what they like.

Since I’ve been old enough to drink my pre- or post- (or often both) game ritual involved a visit to the working man’s club in Britannia Street. Imagine my shock last year when I found it had been demolished. Perhaps it was the irony of working men in Chelsea that appealed to me…

Masca, to the north west of Tenerife high up in the Teno mountains, is billed as the “forgotten village” of the island. It has a beguiling past with whispers of pirates and smuggling…

Coastal erosion is in the news these days. Most spectacularly near Hayle in north Cornwall where geologist Richard Hocking caught an enormous fall on camera…

Clouds drift across the cauldera like a layer of gauze, revealing clusters of lime green pine against the black rock which tiptoes up to the red-tinged volcanic crater. ‘Peaceful’ isn’t an adjective I’d imagine using to describe a volcano, yet the attitude of the mountain is one of serenity…

If the mapmakers had no information as to what might be in an area of map, they filled it with monsters; ship-devouring kraken; huge whales with sharp teeth, Neptune on the warpath, or viciously gigantic mermaids.

The real stumbling block to getting this route re-opened is that the council are under no obligation to keep this path open for the public…

I knew the creator and founder of this route, Trevor Anthill, and his sudden death in August 2010 was not only a terrible loss for his family and friends but also the walking community

I don’t know about you but my teenage years didn’t involve having to look after a sick parent on a regular basis or having care of a very ill sibling that caused me to miss school time. Unfortunately that’s the harsh [...]

These days Robin Hood’s Bay is probably best known as the eastern terminus of Wainwright’s 300 km Coast to Coast walk. So as we left the oh so quaint fishing village – where the pubs all stop serving food at 2 pm – we met a few straggling groups of tired and limping walkers