walking

Few pubs boast a more idyllic setting. As I emerge from the woods after a 15-mile hike, The Bridges, on the banks of the Onny River, in the rolling south Shropshire hills, glistens in the late afternoon sun. Inside it’s all wooden beams, with light streaming through stained glass and huge bunches of homegrown flowers adding splashes of colour. There’s time for a pint before general manager Sam Thompson shows me to my room in the recently converted stables.

I’m here exploring part of the 185-mile (297km) Shropshire Way, on a two-day Heart of the Hills hike – one of the county tourist board’s new Rail-Ready Short Breaks. Designed for people who don’t have time to tackle the whole route, the itineraries focus on loops that are easy to access by train, with illustrated PDF downloads, GPX files, accommodation suggestions and highlights of what to do along the way. My route will take me from Shrewsbury to Bishop’s Castle via Ratlinghope – about 27 miles, perfect for a weekend.

Shrewsbury itself is worth lingering in – the historic market town is crammed with independent shops and restaurants (I loved Csons for its creative small plates) and impressive Tudor architecture. But I’m most intrigued to learn that beavers have been reintroduced here by the council and the Shropshire Wildlife Trust. The first kit in the county in 400 years was born late last year and the Trust’s Tom Freeland shows me around the site, the Old River Bed nature reserve, just two miles north of the town centre. A boardwalk crossing wetlands allows an up-close view of the rewilding project. Although we don’t spy the elusive creatures (we see heron and plenty of moorhen), there’s still lots to learn. “It’s been a great success in inspiring the community to find out more about our local wildlife,” says Tom. Nature talks and guided tours of the beaver enclosure are in the pipeline, too.

Back at my base, the 16th-century Lion + Pheasant townhouse hotel, I dine on pan-roasted trout in the beamed restaurant (there’s a popular wine and tapas bar on site too) and the next morning set off to walk the first leg to Ratlinghope. Crossing the River Severn, the city soon peters out and quiet country lanes lead to Lyth Hill Country Park where expansive views open up across Shropshire.

It’s a steady climb to Wilderley Hill, past fields of rape, bright patches of yellow in a sea of green, and I stop under an oak tree to picnic. There’s no one around, just the songs of wren and chaffinch filling the air. The landscape changes on the approach to Ratlinghope as the route traces a brook, crosses wooden bridges and winds through pretty woodland. Just off the path lies the 12th-century St Margaret’s Church, the burial place of 19th-century farmer Richard Munslow, the last known “sin-eater”, whose job it was to eat bread and drink ale over corpses to absorb their sins.

I enjoy a drink instead in the pretty beer garden at The Bridges. The seven immaculate, minimalist rooms are round an adjacent courtyard – and guests have access to a lounge above the pub, too. The food in the bar includes Guinness rarebit and duck terrine, while the light-filled restaurant focuses on organic fare from the owners’ regenerative farm on the Linley Estate and the Welsh Marches. I feast on huge radishes with anchoïade, and hake with fennel, capers and crispy polenta. Breakfast the next morning – homemade granola and poached rhubarb – is equally delicious. It’s such a lively, friendly place I’m tempted to move nearby for the pub alone. They’ll even drive locals home if they’ve had one too many, Sam tells me.

Blue skies and gentle sunshine greet me for day two of the hike, a 12-mile yomp across rugged moorland and pastures to Bishop’s Castle. The pub lies on the edge of the Long Mynd, a heath and moorland plateau, but I’m heading north to the Stiperstones, a national nature reserve with a wild, dramatic ridge of quartzite rock formations that pierce the ground. I climb higher, passing Devil’s Chair tor, watching skylarks and buzzards soar overhead.

It’s a beautiful walk. After several hours, a magnificent avenue of Linley Beeches line the descent into Bishop’s Castle, a pretty town of half-timbered houses. Bank House B&B, a Georgian renovation with an oak-panelled drawing room and five antique-filled rooms, is my home for the night. I pop into the Poetry Pharmacy where prescriptions are poems chosen to spark specific emotions, to be “taken” when required (I leave with a bottle of Joy). Although little remains of the medieval castle that once stood here and gives the town its name, the grand Castle Hotel, with its pretty gardens and welcoming restaurant, is worth a visit.

With more time, I could, of course, carry on and add another loop of the trail. But the train back home beckons – Craven Arms station is a short bus or taxi ride away – and I leave feeling pleased to have dipped my toe into a small segment of the Shropshire Way. As far as rambling weekends go, it’s ticked all the right boxes, and whetted my appetite to discover more.

The trip was provided by Visit Shropshire and train travel from London to Shropshire was by Visit England. The Bridges has rooms from £120 a night. The Lion + Pheasant has rooms from £140 a night. Bank House B&B has rooms from £110 a night. Luggage transfer was provided by Silver Sherpa and costs from £30 a day for 1-3 bags

Between the treetops, I can see the towers of a distant mist-shrouded castle. Is it possible I could make contact with the spirit of the great Welsh hero Owain Glyndŵr so soon, at the very start of our hike? We are not even on the actual trail of Glyndŵr’s Way. I’ve had to make a detour to find accommodation that takes dogs, as Stevie the terrier is with me. The Castle Inn at Knucklas is a mile off the route, and two miles or so from the pretty border town of Knighton – where the 135-mile (217km) Glyndŵr’s Way officially begins.

The towers slide away behind trees and a railway viaduct emerges. The medieval castle ruins, it turns out, are believed to have been plundered to build the viaduct in the 1860s, and the builders dropped in a couple of crenelated towers to honour the origins of the stone. I fear this may be an early omen: the spirit of Glyndŵr will be as elusive as the man himself was in his lifetime.

Here’s the equation that arrived in my mind:

Love of books + love of walking = Library Trail.

Could I walk to all the libraries in L.A.?

I asked myself this question and then one second later I asked Google, because my phone was in my hand as it is 50% of the time, and 75% of the time when I’m not being social. I spend a lot of time alone, writing books that I hope will end up in libraries.

I knew there were many public libraries in L.A., and that walking to all of them would probably result in a trail that looked like a snarled nest. This turned out to be correct. The city of Los Angeles has 73 libraries. The county has 86. And Santa Monica has five.

So, I decided to simplify. I would walk about 15 miles from the Central Library in downtown L.A. to the Ocean Park Library in Santa Monica, and, since every trail needs a name, I would call it … the phrase “booking it” arrived in my mind. I crossed that out, and then I crossed out some other bad options, and then I decided to let it go and name the trail after I was done, which is often what I do when writing a novel, because you don’t really know what a thing is until it exists. With books, and with trails, and with life, the only thing we can ever be sure of is that our plans will always turn out to be wrong.

An illustrated map of the 15-mile trek from the Central Library in downtown L.A. to Ocean Park Library in Santa Monica.

Case in point: The day before the trail, I planned to draw some lettuce on my sun hat with fabric pens. I envisioned that on one side, the lettuce would be beautiful and perfect, and on the other side, it would be goopy and rotting. What ended up happening was that I drew two lovely romaine leaves, and I liked them so much that I stopped there.

As I said, I spend a lot of time by myself, and I imagined that walking this trail would be a solitary adventure. I’m currently in the process of writing a new novel, and since walking is so conducive to writing, I thought the trail would give me a nice big swath of time to ponder the fictional world I’ve created.

I was told that a photographer named Scott Strazzante would meet me at the Central Library at 7 a.m. I assumed he’d take some shots and maybe walk with me for a little while, and then we’d part ways. What actually happened was that Scott stayed with me the entire time. This caused me to see the two romaine lettuce leaves on my hat as a foreshadowing. I was one leaf, and Scott was the other.

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1. L.A. Central Library. 2. The Lodrick M. Cook Rotunda inside the library. (Scott Strazzante / For The Times)

But back to the Central Library. It’s a masterpiece. Maybe you already know that. In case you don’t, I recommend a visit. Scott and I ended up in the rotunda, surrounded by murals, and it felt like taking a quick trip to Italy. Although really, it was a trip through California’s history. That’s what the murals depict.

An important part of the library’s history is that people (or one person?) tried to burn it down. Twice. In 1986, there were two arson attacks, spaced a few months apart. Who would want to burn down a library? It’s still unclear, although the main suspect for the first attempt was an out-of-work actor named Harry Peak.

The route from the Central Library to the Ocean Park Library is so easy that you could do it without your phone. You walk down four blocks to Olympic Boulevard, then head west. At some point, switch over to Pico Boulevard and keep heading west. Eventually, you’ll veer off at Gateway Boulevard, which turns into Ocean Park Boulevard, and boom! You’re there!

If you do this trail, I suggest you bring sunscreen, a hat and an external battery to charge your phone. I would also bring water and snacks, although, of course, there are many places to get those things along the way.

As Scott and I walked down Olympic, I said hi to a few people we passed, and Scott did too. After one of these interactions, Scott said, “People must think we’re missionaries or something, saying hi like that.”

A woman holds a religious sign at Olympic Boulevard and Alvarado Street.

I didn’t respond. But as we kept walking, I wondered about the implication of Scott’s statement, which is that if you’re going to be nice to a stranger, then it must be because you want something from them.

Scott and I stopped for beverages at Rok Coffee & Tea at Olympic and Ardmore Avenue, which I highly recommend. They have a free photo booth! Without the booth! It’s a modern, open-air version. Scott and I took a selfie. The people behind the counter were exceptionally friendly. When we walked out, Scott made a comment about it. “They were so nice,” he said, kind of in awe.

The arc of this story, I would say, is that Scott’s heart melted more and more as we walked, and so did mine.

At the start of the trail, Scott kept stopping to take photos. Which, you know, was his job. But I was annoyed about it. I was thinking, Damn, I was planning to dream about my novel and maybe call my sister and now I have to wait for this dawdling photographer?

Internally, I had a quick chat with myself. I could either choose to be irritated, or I could choose to love Scott. By the time we took the selfie at Rok, I loved Scott. Then he told me about his life and I loved him more. Scott’s new to L.A. He moved down here from Marin County, but he’s originally from Chicago. He hates shopping. When I complimented his shirt ( which said “Lucky Brand” on it) he said, “I didn’t even see that.” I noticed he was especially interested in signs about lost animals, which I thought was sweet. “Somebody lost a cockatiel!” he said, jogging to catch up, because I hadn’t waited for him.

Scott ended up jogging a fair amount. “We’re making this light!” I shouted a few times, and he sprang into action. He was a good sport about it. Running uses different leg muscles than walking, he pointed out, and his walking muscles were tired.

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1. A Chevrolet van parked on Sherbourne Drive. 2. Writer Swan Huntley walks along Olympic Boulevard. 3. A jogger passes Love Psychic on Olympic Boulevard and Citrus Avenue. (Scott Strazzante / For The Times)

In other moments, Scott took the lead. He wanted to cross the street to take a picture of the Koreatown sign, so we did that. He stopped to ask people if he could photograph them, which meant that we had more conversations with strangers than I would have had alone. Scott made my solo journey into a social one, and by the time we cut down to Pico, I couldn’t believe there had ever been a moment when I didn’t want this awesome man to walk with me.

Here’s another equation:

Being alone + reading news headlines = I think the world is bad.

When I’m by myself for too long, scrolling through articles about the worst things that have happened recently, I inevitably start to think that strangers suck and that kindness is an outlier. When Scott said that us chirpily saying hi to strangers must have made them think we were missionaries, I thought that was sad. As the day went on, I realized I spend more of my life than I want in that sad place.

Near the intersection of Pico and Robertson, Scott and I met a guy whose job it is to change out the batteries on Coco delivery bots. He told us that Cocos are not autonomous. They’re operated by people overseas, who might never come to Los Angeles. After our conversation with this guy, I said to Scott, “He was so nice!” Scott said, “I know!”

So, you can see how our hearts were totally melted. Strangers, as it turns out, often don’t suck.

By the time we got to the Ocean Park Library, my legs were noodles and Scott’s T-shirt was soaked in sweat. There were five people inside. One was on a computer, one was sitting at a table, one was napping in a small chair and two were in larger chairs, charging their phones, with a bunch of bags laid out by their feet.

Inside the community-centered Ocean Park Branch of Santa Monica Public Library.

Thomas Alexander, one of the librarians, told me that people come to the library for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes it’s for books. Sometimes it’s for events, like the zine workshop they put on recently in the basement, which was very well-attended. And sometimes it’s to charge a phone or use a computer or just be quiet for a little while.

I asked Thomas why he became a librarian. He said, “I like working with the community.”

On some other day, this statement might not have made that much of an impact on me. But on that day, it did. Scott and I had spent the last six hours communing with each other and with all the people we met along the trail. I thought about Harry, the out-of-work actor who had possibly lighted the Central Library on fire in 1986. I don’t know anything about him, but my guess is that he was someone who had forgotten that he was part of a community. I wish that Harry could have met Thomas, who has a calm, sincere demeanor and big, brown inviting eyes that seem to say, Hi, I just want to hang out.

Or I’m projecting. By the end of this walk, that’s what I was thinking. I’d gone from being a one-woman show to: Hi, I just want to hang out.

Swan Huntley arrives at Ocean Park Branch of Santa Monica Public Library.

So, my plans were wrong, as they always are, and I’m glad. The original goal of inventing (discovering?) the Scott Romaine Library Trail was to inspire you to care about books. I ended up inspiring myself to care about what libraries are actually about: community.

A grainy photograph, dated 1938, hangs in a frame on the downstairs wall of my B&B. It shows 100, perhaps 200, elegantly attired trippers sitting on the green at Shipley Glen in West Yorkshire. They’re picnicking, chatting, taking the air and enjoying the sunshine, while admiring the rocks and woods that frame the deep gully below. It’s local, low-carbon, cheap-as-chips tourism before the jet age – and also a model for how we may travel in the future.

I arrived here thanks to a new trail, launching on 19 September, that runs through the also newly established Bradford Pennine Gateway national nature reserve – astonishingly, the first reserve of this kind to be created in West Yorkshire. The trail uses almost the same name and is a savvy bit of sustainable planning, connecting the three towns of Ilkley, Saltaire and Haworth but, by appealing to walkers, hopefully inspiring people to explore beyond the confines of these honeypots.

I began at Ilkley on a Monday morning. I’d been on its moor once before, for a long circular hike. But I actually prefer linear walks, and it felt like a challenge to start out by crossing the moor. The first half hour was all upward, with lots of stone staircases and some steep sections. A hovering kestrel welcomed me to the top as a reward.

In fact, the great ridge of moorland above Ilkley is called Rombalds Moor; named after a legendary giant, and which comprises several named moors. I tramped across Ilkley, Burley and Bingley moors in a single lunge, stopping only a few times to drink water, take in the massive views back to the “golf ball” radomes of RAF Menwith Hill near Harrogate, over to Leeds – increasingly a high-rise city – and down to the Emley Moor transmitter near Wakefield (the tallest freestanding structure in the UK), and to admire the Twelve Apostles stone circle near the summit.

I had an easy downward stroll before ascending, more gently this time, to the shoulder of Baildon Moor. The vegetation on these moors is mainly heather (pinkish purple now), dense swathes of bracken, tough upland grasses and peat bog, broken up by gritstone outcrops. The NNR designation recognises that it is an area rich in biodiversity, for flora and fauna, and that it plays an important role in tackling challenges like the climate crisis, floods and wildfires. I was walking more than I was watching, but I clocked skylarks, meadow pipits, wheatears, swallows and, on the south side of Baildon, a colony of tree sparrows. As well as clusters of forestry conifers, there were patches of native trees, including birch, rowan and elder, and the occasional willow. Though it’s not wild all the way: I passed tourist chalets, crossed a few fast roads, and walked through a busy golf course (where there were benches, few and far between on the first half of the trail).

The moors are dotted with human history. A big hole, like a meteor crater, turned out to be an abandoned pit, for extracting coal in the preindustrial era. Signage and traces in the landscape point to second world war tank training. Quarries litter the moorlands and dry-stone walls and extensive ditches point to centuries of management.

The trail is 18 miles (28.9km) long. I could probably have walked it in a day with a bit of effort. I’m glad I didn’t, not least because Shipley Glen was a revelation. Despite having visited nearby Saltaire several times, I’d never gone up the hill to see the ravine, which probably became a “glen” because it sounded Scottish and picturesque. For more than a century and a half, it has served many purposes: as a place for radical rallies and suffragettes’ meetings, a temperance hotel and teashop, Victorian pleasure gardens and quirky amusements and rides – and a tramway, opened in 1895, which still operates. I recommend breaking the walk here, even if it’s not quite a midpoint, because the setting is glorious; Bracken Hall House is a gorgeous B&B (doubles from £110 a night), and Saltaire is full of art, industrial history, and great food and drink. There are benches beside the glen, if you decided to pause for a picnic.

While overnighting, I met Danny Jackson, the former countryside and rights of way manager for Bradford council, who devised and plotted the trail. “I want to change people’s perceptions of what Bradford is,” he said. “It’s not just a city. It’s a district. And it’s very rural.

“I also want to highlight things that are overlooked. Through the NNR and the trail, we want to maximise the benefits from air quality, carbon capture, wildfire and flood reduction, rewetting, peat restoration – and obviously all the health benefits from being outdoors.”

From Shipley Glen, I walked on via a series of nature-rich spots to Haworth. The first, Trench Meadows, is a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI), notable for its grasses and wildflowers, including red fescue, sweet vernal and crested dog’s-tail. The path took me through an elaborate beautiful old kissing gate, and along cobbled and flagged paths; Victorians and Edwardians made their footpaths beautiful as well as functional – and built them to last.

I passed through Bingley by way of several smart housing estates above the town. I recalled John Braine’s 1957 novel, Room at the Top, set precisely in these airy heights; the novelist renamed it “Warley”, perhaps to make more locally innocuous his tale of social-climbing and adultery. The trail takes in the Five Rise Locks and Three Rise Locks sections of the Leeds-Liverpool canal, which I had only ever spied from the main road. Between the two lock-ladders is Bingley North Bog – a small but precious site that supports a variety of insects, birds and amphibians.

Over the previous 10 miles or so, I’d swapped Wharfedale for Airedale and now found myself walking along attractive stretches of the River Aire. At Bingley St Ives, I skirted a large pond full of waders, another golf club and a large equestrian centre; some mouldering old properties had ecclesiastical-looking doorways, perhaps harking back to the pre-dissolution period when the estate was in the hands of Rievaulx Abbey and Drax Priory. A splendid hide has been built where you can watch bullfinches, goldcrests and siskins that come to use the feeders.

I got my first proper blast of a west wind on Harden Moor – the third of the day’s special sites, being a very rare dry heath alongside mixed woodland, and an ideal habitat for bees (including the nationally scarce tormentil mining bee), wasps, spiders, flies, grasshoppers and other invertebrates. With Haworth now on my mind, slightly irritating Kate Bush-related earworms began to wriggle. I had a cheese butty and tea at a suitably Heathcliffian area called Catstones End, all wild heather and quarried rocks – with huge boulders forming natural sculptures.

Rain came in with the wind and I got absolutely drenched on the final approach to Haworth. But soon after, I was entering Bradford’s prettiest township and thinking about coffee and cake. The walk officially ends at Penistone Hill country park, but after taking walking therapy a few years ago, I am no longer a completist – and was satisfied with my walk and mini achievement. I bowed out on Haworth high street, without so much as a glance at the Brontë Parsonage Museum.

The visit was supported by Bradford Culture Company, which is developing projects related to the 2025 UK City of Culture

Ilkley, Saltaire and Haworth are easy to reach by train or bus. If arriving by car, park at Keighley and use the 62 bus to get to Ilkley and the B1, B2 and B3 Brontëbuses to travel from Haworth back to Keighley

The Monsal Trail, Peak District, Derbyshire

Start/finish Coombs Road in Bakewell to Blackwell Mill in Chee Dale, but there are lots of access points along the way
Distance 8.5 miles
Cycle, hike or ride a horse along the Monsal Trail to explore a swathe of Derbyshire’s industrial history. This former stretch of the Midland Railway line winds past the imposing structures of two 18th-century cotton mills, through illuminated railway tunnels and over the Headstone Viaduct, which gives glorious views of the River Wye and Monsal Dale below. Interpretation and listening panels along the route explain the area’s history, geology and wildlife, while a short detour on to Monsal Head offers a panoramic view of the viaduct itself. Pause here for lunch or a pint at the Monsal, or stop in at Hassop Station Cafe, which offers bike rental alongside hefty sandwiches, homemade cakes and wood-fired pizza at weekends.
monsaltrail.org.uk

The Strawberry Line, Somerset

Start/finish Yatton railway station to the old (unused) Cheddar railway station
Distance 10.7 miles
Named for the fruity cargo that trains once carried from the strawberry fields up to London, this flat, accessible route – shared by walkers, cyclists and wheelchair users – knits together former railway stations, cider orchards and small, historic towns. Direct trains run from Bristol to Yatton, where the not-for-profit, community-run Strawberry Line Cafe serves hearty breakfasts and homemade cakes, while next door the Strawberry Line Cycle Project offers bike hire and accessories such as child seats. The route runs through wildlife-rich wetlands, open grazing land and lush valleys, while the medieval square at Axbridge gives an insight into the region’s rich history, dating back to the 10th century, when it was a busy commercial centre. Settle in at the Almshouse Teashop, in a building almost 600 years old, for freshly made soup and sweet treats, before setting off again.
thestrawberryline.org.uk

The Mawddach Trail, Gwynedd, Wales

Start/finish Marian Mawr car park in Dolgellau to Barmouth viaduct
Distance 9.5 miles
Mostly running alongside the Mawddach estuary, this tranquil trail is a great choice for birders, with peregrine falcons and buzzards whirling above, and curlews and oystercatchers in the salt marshes. The wide, even surface also makes it ideal for wheelchairs and mobility scooters, and there are several joining points along the trail, meaning you can walk or bike as little or as far as you like. Just next to the 150-year-old Penmaenpool wooden toll bridge, the George III hotel and pub offers sweeping estuary views and classic pub food (including particularly fine pies), or pick up picnic supplies from Fork, Cork and Feathers in Dolgellau, which has a cold counter crammed with cured meats, cheeses and other local produce. There are seats and picnic tables dotted all the way along the trail.
mawddachtrail.co.uk

The Cuckoo Trail, East Sussex

Start/finish Station Road in Heathfield to Hampden Park in Eastbourne
Distance 14 miles
A great choice for a family adventure, this mostly flat trail has five augmented reality “story stops” along the way – where, with just a quick scan of the QR code, children can interact with animated wildlife characters, solve puzzles and take a selfie with a grumpy badger. There are sculptures too, including carved wooden seats made from oak trees that fell during the great storm of 1987 and steel sculptures that act as mileposts. Cuckoo Shack Cafe, part of Priory Court Farm in Polegate, is set right on the trail and offers homemade-cakes, sandwiches and excellent coffee, but it is only open at weekends and during school holidays. Otherwise, a quick diversion into Hailsham offers a clutch of places to eat, including Neapolitan street food and wood-fired pizza at Rustico.
wealden.gov.uk

The Flitch Way, Essex

Start/finish Braintree station to Start Hill, near Bishop’s Stortford
Distance 15 miles
Discover a tranquil side of Essex by following this rural trail along the edge of the former royal hunting ground of Hatfield Forest – where fallow deer roam between the ancient oak trees – and Great Notley Country Park, where families can take advantage of the 1.2km play trail, with slides, forts and swings. The main refreshment stop is 2 miles along the trail from Braintree at the Rayne Station centre, which combines the Booking Hall Cafe with the free-to-enter Railway Carriage Museum, a visitor centre and toilets. For something more sustaining (and a pint or two), the Lion and Lamb pub is just a short detour off the trail, in the pretty village of Little Canfield. Keep an eye out for kestrels and buzzards, plus brown hares dashing out of the hedgerows.
explore-essex.com

The Wirral Way, Merseyside and Cheshire

Start/finish West Kirby railway station to Hooton railway station
Distance 12.2 miles
One of the first converted railway lines in England, the Wirral Way is now a dramatically beautiful coastal path running along the Wirral Peninsula. It takes in the Wirral Country Park, where Wirral Way Bikes offers cycle hire for adults and kids (including ebikes), and clifftop picnic spots have gorgeous views over the Dee estuary. Take a detour down the cliffs to Thurstaston beach for a spot of fossil hunting or a quick paddle, and pause at Hadlow Road station, which has been preserved in all its 1950s glory (when the passenger service stopped) as an open museum; it also operates as an information point for the trail. Time your walk or ride for sunset, when the mudflats glow rose-pink and gold as the sun drops below the Clwydian Hills, and take the short connecting path down to the Harp Inn, Little Neston, set directly on the estuary, for a sundowner to go with the view.
visitcheshire.com

The Crab and Winkle Way, Kent

Start/finish Canterbury West station to Whitstable Harbour
Distance 7.5 miles
Following the route of one of the earliest railway lines, built in 1830, this hiking and cycling trail passes through the Blean, a large swathe of ancient woodland, home to the 13th-century church of St Cosmus and St Damian, and an RSPB reserve. It’s also home to Europe’s first free-roaming bison, introduced as part of a rewilding initiative in 2022 by the Kent Wildlife Trust and Wildwood Trust. There’s not really anywhere en route to stop and eat, so either pick up treats for a picnic at the Goods Shed in Canterbury (an indoor farmers market, closed mondays) or save yourself for oysters and a glass of fizz at the Whitstable Oyster Company, right on the beach.
explorekent.org

The Dava Way, Moray and Highland, Scotland

Start/finish Mannachie Avenue in Forres to Dulicht Bridge in Grantown-on-Spey
Distance 24 miles
Unusually for a rail trail, the Dava Way includes a stiff climb from the Moray Firth up over Dava Moor to the Dava Summit, at 320 metres (1,050ft), before heading back down to Grantown-on-Spey, following the Highland Railway line that operated for over a century, from 1863 to 1965. The ascent is well worth it for the spectacular views across the Moray Firth to Sutherland in the north, and south to the Cromdale Hills and the Cairngorms, while the ride back down is a breeze. The Divie Viaduct, built in 1863, is the most famous landmark along the way, while the Halfway Hut is a restored shelter that makes a perfect spot for a picnic, with old photographs and route info on the walls (not for overnight stays).
davaway.org.uk