So last week my father and I took the ferry to France to cycle across Brittany. With no definite end point in mind we headed south along the Velodyssey route from Roscoff with our bikes and sleeping tarpaulin with a view to seeing how far we got. A great time was had but – alas –...
Wow. Yeah, this is going to be a big one. No two ways about it. I’ve done a huge and massive (yeah, I know) cull but there are still loads of images. I did consider splitting it into two posts but not really in love with that idea. Because this is about texture. The texture...
And so to Paris by way of Eurostar for a bit of a wander and some time to reflect. And eat. TOTALLY with the eating. I was going to write a bunch of stuff but – actually – if I need to do that then I really haven’t done my job properly. Three days...
Croatia, then. Split to be precise. After the wash-out that was my Portugal trip I was so monumentally cheesed off that I actually cancelled this trip. Wiped everything except the uncancellable flights. And then. Then. What happened? Not too sure. The prospect of an all-night drive to Gatwick didn’t seem so very terrible and –...
…featuring a trip during which it rained. A lot. And I consumed my body weight in coffee and pastel de nate (that’s custard tarts to you and me). Oh, and featuring also my Mum :)…