How did I end up pitching my old festival tent by myself in 35-mile-an-hour winds and lashing rain after work on a Friday evening? I’d like to say that it was just a fun, spontaneous idea I had because I’m just a fun, spontaneous sort of women… but actually, it was more of a necessity…
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I had to scroll through seven pages of white people gazing over mountain vistas before I could find a stock hiking photo featuring someone of colour. And it’s not that my image search is powered by a neo-Nazi algorithm (I hope); it seems to be representative of what’s happening out there in the real world.…
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I was inspired to write this post 5 years ago when I was shopping in Millets for things to take on holiday campervanning around California. Millets is a very inspiring place.
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We all know instinctively that nature does something good to our souls. After all – we’re animals: we are nature. But being the clever monkeys that we are, we realised at some point a few thousand years ago that building walls around ourselves kept us pleasantly distanced from things like sharp-toothed animals and weather. And…
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It’s mad. I’ve lived in England all my life. I’m a keen walker, I love nature, I studied Wordsworth at university, grew up enamoured by Peter Rabbit and all of his other fluffy little mates and yet, until Christmas 2020, I’d never been to the Lake District: THE most walkery, naturey, Wordsworthy, Peter Rabbity place…
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whalebeings 