Writer of words, rider of bikes. Also fond of a good walk.

Benji the bear peaks out of a rucksack near Freshwater Bay on the Isle of Wight.

Storm Brian was in full force as our ferry crossed the Solent. This was an inauspicious start to our holiday on the Isle of Wight.


Specialized Roubaix bike pictured at Gospel Pass in the mountains above Hay-on-Wye.

I’d been looking forward to riding this route, which bisects the Black Mountains on the highest road pass in Wales. And – despite three punctures and some ill-advised fish and chips – it didn’t disappoint.


Bikes and trailer lean on a bench during a pub stop on the return from Gloucester Docks.

The bridge lifted to allow a narrowboat to pass underneath. If you're three years old this sort of thing is indescribably exciting.


A chocolate Labrador sits, tongue hanging out, by a wooden signpost marking the source of the River Severn.

Every winter, I climb the hill behind our house to see the extent of the flooding in the vale below. It’s hard to believe this immense volume of water starts its journey in a muddy puddle on a Welsh hillside.