If you’re in search of tiny picturesque villages, miles of rambling over open heathland and more local folklore than you can shake a stick at, then Dartmoor is the place to go. I spent a week swimming in rivers, exploring the wild moors, and generally pretending I was in a gothic horror mystery novel. Spoiler alert: at no point was I eaten by a giant hound.
‘Let’s go on an 8 mile hike around Bath’ said Jenny.
‘It’ll be fun’ said Jenny.
Ok so it wasn’t as bad as all that, but my first time around the Bath Skyline walk did remind me just how damn hilly my home city can be, especially as it was a pretty hot ‘n humid day. Fortunately I’d been sent a shiny Hydroflask to try out – but would it keep my restorative smoothie nice and cold, or would I be left with a load of tepid gloop on my hands? (Possibly literally. I’m a very messy eater).
If something’s worth reviewing, it’s worth reviewing properly – right? At least that’s my excuse for the fact that I’ve spent the last 6 months thoroughly abusing my De la Vina Low boots from Teva.
Hunkered a short way off the West Coast of Scotland, Skye is one of those places that instantly makes you feel like you’re in some sort of fantasy novel. The name somes from the Norse word Skuy, which translates as ‘Misty Isle’, and I am told that the reason for this is usually pretty obvious. Certainly when I arrived on the island, the sun that I had basked in on the mainland suddenly disappeared – replaced by a sheet of thunderous grey that rolled overhead.