In my time, I have taken three different babies camping to festivals, to well-equipped campsites and bare fields, and I took them by planes, trains and automobiles. And buses. Here's how
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The rule that there is always another island first struck me on the isle of Arran, which is further south than the Western Isles, directly west from Glasgow in Argyll. While staying in the southernmost pincer of Lamlash Bay on Arran, I looked out at the enormous hump of Holy Island, (not to be...
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The vision of an island, coming out of the fog as you approach it by boat, or surveyed from a beach on the mainland, is alluring. What is the promise of an island? Isolation? Certainly contemporary fears stoke in all our hearts a secret desire to hide away, with a good few miles of...
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My rucksack contained three beds, two sleeping bags, a small ration of underwear, a shirt, a pair of shorts, Birkenstocks sandals, a stove, methlylated spirits, some of the shoe overflow from Cath’s rucksack, an Opinel knife, two torches, a rubber mallet, a notebook, a bottle of Talisker single malt, a pair of speakers, an...
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Camping with children but without a car: maximum effort, minimum capacity for shame.
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Cath and I used to go camping without a car. The absolute minimum gear while still packing a kid. I wrote this for The Guardian on the subject. Now I can drive. But I’ll never forget heaving all that kit around the public transport system. Bookmark It Hide Sites $$('div.d59').each( function(e) { e.visualEffect('slide_up',{duration:0.5}) });
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