Here in our village in the west we are little regarded. The lords of tilth and loch are quarrying (we hear) Great stones to make a stone circle. They come here from Birsay to take our fish for taxes. Otherwise We are left in peace with our small fires and...
Over the last ten years I’ve met more and more people making a ‘tree change’, swapping the stress of the concrete jungle for the tranquillity of the country. They plan a garden to please the eye and stock the table, and a comfortable house with space for pursuits they’ve neglected...
I grew up in England surrounded by beautiful gardens and landscapes. Memories of the smell of honeysuckle on a warm summer’s morning wafting in through the kitchen window of my grand-parents 16th century farmhouse in the Lake District still moves me viscerally, as does the smell of mown hay in the...
I’ll never forget the first time I saw the Isles of Scilly, early one misty, summer’s morning more years ago than I care to remember – from a helicopter. On what promised to be a glorious day we took off from Penzance for the 15-minute flight. As we rose into...
Quien no ha visto Granada. No ha visto nada. (He who has not seen Granada, has seen nothing at all.) Granada is southern Spain’s precious jewel, and for much of the Middle Ages it dangled – like the glowing pomegranate for which it is named – temptingly before the eyes...