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The search for a new life in the Sierra Nevada mountains, in Spain
Lakeland Walker magazine
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Graham Robinson on Forever Changing – Broad Majes… Alan Sloman on Walking the Old Corpse Road –… Peter Bennett on Lindisfarne – A Pilgrim’… McFadzean on On the Tide Line – But Not Qui… Adrian on On the Tide Line – But Not Qui… McFadzean on On the Tide Line – But Not Qui… Dean Jones on On the Tide Line – But Not Qui… McFadzean on Day Return to Bloworth Crossin… McFadzean on Lindisfarne – A Pilgrim’… Pete Austin on Day Return to Bloworth Crossin… Peterrabennett on Lindisfarne – A Pilgrim’… McFadzean on Lindisfarne – A Pilgrim’… Bethany Appleby on Lindisfarne – A Pilgrim’… McFadzean on Kentmere – In the Footsteps of… Geoff Stebbens on Kentmere – In the Footsteps of… BROUGHTON ROADING
Short stories by Anne McFadzean
MADEIRA
MADEIRA: Pico do Arieiro to Pico Ruivo
MADEIRA: Stairways to heaven
MADEIRA: A walk to the most easterly point
MADEIRA: Walking with water
SIERRA NEVADA
SPAIN: Flag Day on Mulhacen – ascent of the mainland's highest peak
SPAIN: Veleta the Hard Way WITH VIDEO
SPAIN: Sierra de Lujar – the fourth attempt to climb one of the easiest mountains in Spain
THE MUNROS
Devil's Points and Angels' Peaks – a classic day in the Cairngorms
Demons on the Forcan Ridge – a fight with an internal Grendel
A Tank on the Lawn – confrontation with stalkers on the Strathfarrah Ridge
In Praise of Scotch Pies and Carn á Chlamain
THE LAKES
Walking the Old Corpse Road – Mardale to Shap
The Black Abyss – Grisedale Pike and memories of Force Crag Mine
THE PENNINES
High Cup – and the rise and fall of Belfast sinks
IRELAND
Above the Glens of Antrim – In the boglands above Glenariff WITH VIDEO
CAPE WRATH TRAIL
Cape Wrath – The Edge of the World. Final day on the Cape Wrath Trail
Category Archives: Industrial archaeology
Karst Adrift
LOTS of interesting stuff happens when you go walking without a map in a strange country. You see things you didn’t expect to see. Conversely, you don’t see the things you expect to see because you can’t work out how … Continue reading
In the Valley of the Toril
PATHS. They begin at our door and run through our lives. They rise and buckle and lead us to unknown places. They appear in all guises: woodland paths; coastal paths; moorland paths; paths of righteousness; paths of destiny. Sometimes they … Continue reading
Forgive Them Their Trespasses?
IT’S a perfect spring morning in 1982. Arkengarthdale slumbers green and shadowy beneath a blue sky as we sit in damp grass and drink tea from tartan Thermos flasks. Nothing moves except the wind in the heather and the birds … Continue reading
On a Whim to William Gill
WILLIAM GILL is an offshoot of Arkengarthdale in the northern Pennines and is the shallow valley leading to the source of Arkle Beck. It’s a place only the lonely visit because it’s right in the middle of one of those … Continue reading
Days Like This, No 18: A Dip in Goat’s Water
WE British are collectors of junk and tickers of lists. Men in particular, if left unmolested, will amass sheds full of lawnmower parts, used spark-plugs, obsolete tools and jars of reclaimed nuts and bolts just in case the unforeseen occurs … Continue reading
Arkengarthdale Moor and the Death of Sods Law
SOMETIMES when you walk through wild and lonely countryside you experience a creeping realisation that things haven’t always been the way they seem. The heathery moors to the west of Reeth, in the northern Pennines, are empty places except for … Continue reading
Done on Great Dun Fell
THERE are certain things in this world on which you should never depend and one of them is the weather forecast. I’ll think of a few more before I’m through, but the weather forecast will suffice for now. The outlook … Continue reading
A Christmas Walk: With Ghosts on Baysdale Moor
I AM wary of the North York Moors because they are more than a little bit sinister. They are wild and empty, peppered with the scratchings of forgotten people, laced with legends, and punctuated with the stumps of ancient crosses … Continue reading
Not Everything is Black and White on Barningham Moor
I DRIVE the rattly van to the top of Barningham Moor and it gets stuck in slithery grass while I’m trying to park. I stall the engine and can’t start it again because the starter motor jams. Mist rolls in … Continue reading
Because They're There... 