Moth collection

I've been travelling for the past three months - and I'm sorry to admit that this involved making nine flights. There is no defence other than I hadn't been on a plane for 10 years so had a few carbon credits in hand. PIc is of Nell, me, Lola and two Solomon Island guides - Ofani and David - who had just taken us for a very long walk to see this amazing map, the Kolombangara stone.

But now I'm back at home. The first thing I noticed was that the kitchen seemed to have shrunk after the experience of living without windows, or clutter, while we were in Solomon Islands for two months. The next was the plague of moths.

Confession#2
Clothes moths drive me crazy - they've followed me around London to a range of different houses and their caterpillars have destroyed far too many of my clothes. They chew rugs, carpets, dresses, silk, jumpers, curtains even. I'm told they can even take over sheeps' wool insulation. They get into the food jars, and once the kids were sent home from school with a vicious note from the lunch supervisor telling me not to send them to school with maggoty fruit bars. When I protested that these were moth larvaes the teachers were even less sympathetic.

The result is that I am willing to kill these poor moths, and do so with a pheremone trap, ie, it's laced to stop the male tineola bisseliella mate with the female.

Unlike most of the world's 160,000 moth species, clothes moths (tineola bisselliella) like dim light. As everyone knows, most moths are drawn to bright lights, so they've done a clever bit of adaptation. In fact I admit to freaking out, just once during our three month travels, and it was over moths chaotically fighting to kill themselves on the kerosene light. We had to leave at 5am, ie, it was going to be dark in the morning, and was already dark, so I had to pack. Easy! But the torrential rain seemed to make hanging around the kerosene light even more attractive to the moths. There were 100s, maybe more, anyway enough to darken the lamp and to reduce me to a weeping lump lying on the dark wooden floor of the very special eco-lodge, Imbu Rano, Kolombangara, Solomon Islands.

I literally couldn't see for moths. 

Moth worries aside Imbu Rano is the place to base yourself if you ever want to take a walk through montane rainforest on a dormant volcano (the equivalent in the UK would be wooded parts of the Malvern Hills, or imagine the woods on Arthur's Seat or the Lake District). The eco-lodge has the world's most lovely view, read more about it here. There are some good pix here too. And by the way we stayed two nights and moths weren't a problem on the first night - it must have been the weather or the moon, or some other natural phenomenon.

DIY moth removal
Finding moth pheremone refills for the plastic traps isn't easy. But at the fourth hardware shop I visited (ironically the one I first stumbled across moth traps) had some for sale. A pack of 10 refills is £17.50, or buy one for just £2.

"Are you selling a lot of these?" I asked, and got a laugh for a reply at SX Wallpapers, 113 Essex Road, London, N1.

"We've sold 3,000 refills this summer. I've been saying we could turn the upstairs into a moth refill showroom and show people how best to swat them!" he added.

I'm sharing this with you so you can keep your clothes in a decent state, ensuring you have a little more cash available for travel around Britain without a plane...

Smell the petrol

One family's thoughts on how to travel the world without leaving home, much. This post is by Nicola

I'm ashamed of myself really: in just two weeks of holidaying I've managed to drive nearly 1,000 miles. Most of this was local trips in Yorkshire, although the big mileage came from an up and down of the A1, plus a return journey from Carlisle to Wast Water. Although the family also clocked up the miles on the gear-changing, brake-waring crossing of Hard Knott pass between Boot and Ambleside.

Because we need to drive so little, I usually stick to a membership car club scheme, Streetcar. But this time it was more convenient to rent the cars from Sixt.

As a result of this I've been into a couple of motorway service stations - better for clean loos than most train stations still - and nowadays also serving a good cup of coffee, but otherwise soleless places. Assuming it is not an April Fool (and we are months out as I am writing this in August) there are plans in the Cotswolds to build an apparently "green service station" with a grass roof, electric vehicle refuelling points, and a veg patch. The full story is in the Guardian here.

What struck me about the service stations on the A1 was they were an identical layout, and nothing to tell me where in the world I was. Apparently the kit-design is the way to make cost and building savings - you create a model that can be dumped anywhere you acquire the land, a bit like Lego. So if this so-called green service station was to go ahead it would make sense to build it just like all the others. Or to make a model that would be acceptable to all the other service station developers.

I wonder if there is still time to ask the question: do we need yet another service station? I'm guessing this is a no, even if you could pour unleaded petrol into your car while munching on a locally-sourced goat's cheese sarnie.

Stories round the woodburner

Pete, Nicola, Lola and Nell spent the summer of 2007 travelling around Britain without racking up their carbon budget. We're home now but we still love travelling. Here's how we try and do it keeping to a low carbon footprint and getting a taste of everywhere in the world. This post is by Nicola.

One of the things I love about visiting people in the countryside is their tendency in the winter to have wood burning stoves. If the wood is sourced from the right place - and I'm working on this - then you can have carbon neutral space heating.

After long talks, debates and saving up we now have an Aga Little Wenlock woodburner fitted (suitable for smokeless zones) where our Victorian fireplace used to be. It's pretty warm today - 16C - but last weekend, when it was a bit colder, we set it alight both evenings with amazingly good results. In fact the woodburner's efficiency made our sitting room warm enough for me to stay up late (chatting), rather than retire with a hot water bottle to bed at 9pm. Its cosy glow reminds me of Hannah's in Wales and Exeter, and my childhood in Hertfordshire. Pete says - rather happily - that the atmosphere in our living room hints at warm ups by the pub after breath-freezing days in the Lakes and Yorkshire.

Of course you need kindling to light it, and so there's a new task for the children (see pic). Here's Nell and her three year old cousin Jago helping me collect up a big bag of twigs off an ash tree, which all fell down after a night of gales.

Searching for kindling, copying great ideas (I think the Swedes invented the woodburner, just checking) and being able to story around the fire make autumn and winter such a pleasure. next project may be to plant some more trees...

Perfect mountan hideaway

Pete, Nicola, Lola and Nell love to travel but stay off planes to keep their carbon footprint down. Here's how they satisfy their passion for travel

The Wasdale Head Inn looks like a tiny white Lakeland cottage nestling in the flat green valley below the big mountains that ring it. But it's a mecca for anyone passing through this valley thanks to its micro-brewery, rooms and self catering apartments and a walkers/climbers equipment shop. As we stomp through the rain – Nell slithering in wellies as her feet have suddenly grown – the word INN in huge font gets pleasingly nearer... We will be happy here, no doubt.

And we are – the first day it's good enough weather to see that only the tops are in cloud – so we set out to climb Lingmell. There's a pretty walk along Moses Trod (good name eh with hints of tradition, poetry and anticipation?) with the river on the right but as we climb up the hillside it's obvious that we are approaching from an awkward angle. Quick change of plans and we swerve left and up the fell to the place where four paths cross. Here, there's a teeny tarn the kids start throwing rocks into (not sure this is a good thing but they are happy and recharging) while I look around for a mountain to climb. Eenie, meenie, minie, mo... There's so many tops we could be in the Pyrennes, Alps or Nepal...

Most people go up Scafell Pike (England's biggest) but we are so close to Great Gable here – it's top is just 300m up which is an hour long staircase climb. Or something like that, and soon we huff and puff ourselves to the top, which is a bit cloudy cheating us of the stunning Wasdale Head view we should have. Not that it matters at all – the kids have climbed their second big mountain – and the views as we descend Great Gable are sublime. Even when the cloud wafts out the big picture Nell is enchanted by being inside cloud. It's like flying, but more DIY.

The next day Pete walks off his stiffness by doing five tops, Pillar etc, up the other, less crowded valley, and we all celebrate with chocolate cake and pasta when he makes it down: contented albeit 50. A proper happy birthday to be alone in the mountains contemplating...

The Wasdale Head Inn is not a chi-chi place. It's the birthplace for British climbing so is filled with climbing memorabilia – ice picks, photos of men in tweed and weather reports. It feels very male with its wooden panelled rooms (and no hot water while we are there in our apartment), but it hums with anticipation and adventure, and we all want to go back soon.

Locating Shangri-La

Pete, Nicola, Lola, 9, and Nell, 6, spent three happy months during summer of 2007 travelling around Britain. Now we’re home, but the travel bug is still there. Join us for the occasional sightseeing plus tips on how to shrink your carbon footprint. This post is from Nicola

The Lake District is many things to our family. We’ve played there pretending we are in Chile wild camping by Ullswater and even used it to scene set for a conquering journey up Everest (aka Skiddaw). We’ve followed Wainwright until we’ve got lost, cooed over Beatrix Potter’s manor and desperately wanted to be Hunter Davis. Back in London we keep our easy to recharge torch bright by reading Arthur Ransome’s books. Current favourite is Swallowdale when the children – John, Susan, Titty and Roger – are forced to stop talking about jibes and booms (things none of us can relate to) and go camping in the perfect valley.

There’s as much speculation among Swallows & Amazon’s fans about whether Ransome was a spy as the whereabouts of Swallowdale and the knickerbockerbreaker waterfall slide.

Back in 1984 Christina Hardyment managed to locate many of the sites around Coniston and Windermere in her fascinating book Arthur Ransome and Captain Flint’s Trunk (Jonathan Cape). She didn’t find it, but later in the all-things Ransome journal, Mixed Moss, Hardyment had another go – claiming that the ultimate, child-safe utopia is probably in Miterdale, on the route to Scafell near the end of the Ravenglass and Eskdale railway.

Wherever Ransome really used for his Shangri-La it is a long, long way from the hilltops of despair William Golding found for the child gang in the Lord of the Flies.

Midnight walk

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood whatever the weather. This post is from Nicola

It’s 10pm and I’ve just got back from taking Lola and Nell on their first dusk-to-dark nature safari. We crossed the common at dusk dodging puddles left in the ruts of 4WD while admiring the mist that had hangs like a willow the wisp across this area making it feel very spooky. But this isn't a ghost walk, so to cheer the children up we walk on the road past Norton Cottage where the owls are shouting out for company and then out into enough open space to see the full moon rising, and then getting caught up in the hornbeam trees.

Hearing the owls reminds Lola of the time we were camping by Ullswater in the Lake District and she was woken on a wet night by a hungry owlet barracking its parents for food. Owls don’t fly when it’s wet – presumably because the voles don’t show – so this poor owlet would have had two choices: pester power or munching up its sibling (assuming there was another in the nest). Lola was too sleepy to realize this and just sat up in her sleeping bag to say loudly, but politely, “Please can you stop making that noise.” I think it worked, anyway we all fell back into a very fretful sleep and the next night the little owl wasn’t so persistent.

The big block is a mile best walked anti-clockwise. It can be busy but at this time of night on a bank holiday Saturday there are only two cars. As they pass we press ourselves into the verge, me hoping they’ll dip their lights when they see my pale trousers. But when the road is restored to its usual tranquility we get to see lots of bats using the silvery lanes as if they are they are selecting insects from the pick and mix counter.

We then turn right and out into the country with a stubble field to our left and hay-scented golf course on the right. Wherever there’s long grass on the roadside verge the crickets are up for it, shouting and partying. But all’s quiet in the stubble tonight: yesterday there was a couple working the north west corner by the passing point with a huge metal detector. I think all they got was mud on their boots.

As it grows dark the golden light shillueting SPELLING the far hedgerow closes down the colours into a grey blue and then inky night. On the golf course the grass is now soaked by dew and the moon gaining enough strength to give us moon shadows.

"It looks like the moon is a planet," said Lola teasing me, she knows I get very mixed up dealing with the solar system. Nell agrees and I resolve to learn them once and for all - I'm sure there's a nymonic SPELLING where John Likes Susan's Violet Eyes to help me finally get those planets under control.

Then just as the kids grow tired and we can spot more stars than planes (hard near Stansted Airport on a bank holiday weekend) we are over the five-bar gate and into the farmyard. Here the children turn on their torches so they can dodge the giant puddles and avoid the pond. Now we are on the final straight – strolling up the lane arm in arm listening to a neighbour’s teenagers celebrate GCSE results with a loud – and good – rendition of I would walk 500 miles by The Pretenders. It's a good choice!

Back home Granny Fiona is mystified by a walk in the dark: the terrace is her night time limit. Yet when pressed she says she enjoyed night fishing as a child on Strangford Lough, in Northern Ireland, and coming back by the moonlight with the oars dripping phosphorescence. Our midnight safari is not nearly so glamorous, but what a fine way to end a summer’s day.

Real food hunt

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Nicola (pic is of Nell looking for lobsters down at the harbour)

The directions say turn right at The Ploughman pub, I do this but am completely distracted by the secondary sign that says "a real pub" on a very tackly looking 1970s built, horrible pub in Peterculter. To be fair we haven't been into this pub yet but the incident reminds me of the row Friends of the Earth got into running a 'Real Food Campaign' simultaneously with another organisation promoting 'real food'. Real means different things you see...

What we have found is that if you want to suss out a new area quickly then all you need are the local newspaper and a chance to browse at a local "real" food supplier.

1) Here in Aberdeen the organic, free range egg supplier I've been recommended to visit only opens on Wednesday and Saturdays at a side road you could easily miss on the way to Bridge of Muchalls. Supplies are in the shed but we buy loads of goodies - fabulous lettuce, tomatoes and a dozen of those eggs. They also have Suma supplies, but not the artichoke hearts Lola so loves. We don't need much really as there is a veg garden where we are staying. And we also wanted to try eating at Lairhillock Inn which has a reputation for stunning food, despite its reluctance to let children dine there (you won't find chips or baked beans or plates sized to suit a child's appetite).

2) And if we ever run out of veg then we'll be spoilt for deli choice in the nearby seaside town of Stonehaven. Not only does it have an independent butcher, fishmonger etc, there's also a chippy boasting Britain's 'best young fryer' and Aunty Betty's which sells ice-cream to die for (strawberry, tablet [fudge], banoffee) which is whipped up in nearby Buckie.

3) A few weeks ago we didn't need much at Rheged either - the just out-of-town 'local' shopping experience at Penrith in the Lake District. But the reasons were different: we just couldn't carry it. Rheged is a foodie heaven with an amazing selection of jams, cheeses, meat, biscuits, juices and even English wine. I bought Wild & Fruitful jam because I know it's Cumbrian (and the only other place you can get it is Marylebone High Street) and is an ideal present, even for people who make their own jams.

4) But my favourite foodie discovery was the farm shop by the roundabout on the road from Carlisle-Newcastle, Brocksbushes in Stockfield, Northumberland which was what all motorway pitstops should be: delicious food (cheese scones and coffee with free top ups), fresh fruit and veg (including a strawberry fest) and extremely nice staff. If you are ever in a vehicle this shop is worth a detour - not least because the main entrance has a tree in store, another soothing site for motorway-tired eyes.

Time off in loo

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Pete, off-message but heartfelt he says (pic of an outdoor poo-er)

“There are loo seats I’ll remember all my life…” as the Beatles might have put it. Arriving in Glasgow on the sleeper at 7am, unable to use the loo while the train was in the station because of the anti-social consequences, it was a huge relief to find a clean, presentable Gents available for just 20p on the concourse. A contented traveller needs a decent loo. From my pre-climate awareness days there are many horrific lav stories; a drop loo in the Solomons where coconut crabs lay ready to nip your privates; the pungent pong of stale urine overflowing in a Bangkok bus station; Greek loos that didn’t take paper; continental squatting models; and more latterly tiger worms lurking beneath the sawdust in a green’s compost loo and the blue hell of the chemical toilet in the Dalmally bothy.

And now, for an anally retentive man, came the ultimate challenge; camping for four days at an Ullswater boat house without running water or loo facilities of any kind. Thus bowel movements involved unspeakable activities with trowels and paper burying the evidence among the trees, bracken, thistles, nettles and flies. Often amid a deluge. Soon we became expert at restraining nature and holding on until the café at the perhaps aptly-named Pooley Bridge (outside loo with cold water and a mirror) or the National Trust toilets at Aira Force (smelly but effective). What bliss to now be in Aberdeen with a fully functioning flush toilet. Thomas Crapper, inventor of the original water closet, you are a much-neglected genius.

High Street is a hill

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Pete (pic shows High Street in the far distance, this is of Nell helping Pete warm up on Hallin Fell)



What have the Romans ever done for us? Well, as fans of Life of Brian will know, they did manage to build the original High Street at a height of more than 700 metres (or 2,500 feet), stretching for 30 kilometres across a set of huge mountains in the Lake District. These days a footpath follows the path of the old Roman road. Walking up from Pooley Bridge it’s fascinating to reflect that you are following the path of Roman Legions who used to trek between forts at Ambleside and Penrith, covering 20 miles every five hours across the mountains, before relaxing in a hot bath full of Roman Radox.

First there’s an intriguing detour to the Cockpit a Neolithic standing stone circle (or did the Romans put them there just to keep Time Team busy?) and then a yomp across boggy grass and sphagnum moss up to the mountain plateau. As my boots become saturated, even in July, you realize just how hard it must have been for Italian geezers in sandals longing for olive oil and sundried tomatoes. You can still see where the Romans used the gradient of the rock to facilitate their progress. As my boots sink in the peaty mulch once more you can see the attraction of a decent surface and camber.

Also in evidence is the Roman’s unsentimental approach to walking. The path skirts all the stunning views over Ullswater and sticks resolutely to the drab upland commons – although the views are much more spectacular near the High Street summit. It was a military road all about safe passage and concealment from hostile Scots, Cumbrians and Geordies; no time for Wainwright guidebooks here. After two and a half hours I make it across eroded peat and water pools to the summit of Loadpot Hill. The High Street path continues for another four miles to the summit of the mountain High Street (828 metres), a flat plateau where the locals held horse races 200 years ago. But for me it’s time to return for a pint at Pooley Bridge. Maybe it’s best the Romans left these shores some 1,600 years ago. Otherwise the M6 would be straight across Lakeland’s most loved peaks.

In a canoe

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Nicola

We're not ready to go miles in a canoe yet, but during our wet camping Lola, Nell and I had lots of fun taking the canoe out on Ullswater. I like paddling for a "walkabout", as it was known in the Solomon Islands, in the early evening, but on our last day we just had time before breakfast to go for a quick jaunt down the lake. The rewards were a close-up of a cormorant sitting in the top of a dead tree by the lakeside. For once it wasn't drying its wings, instead it looked hunched and impressively tropical. As we glided by a kestrel got up and circled around us. It was so close we could see its golden brown back and yellow beak.

We wouldn't have been able to do this if Tom hadn't kindly dropped off some life jackets to fit us all. So many thanks to him for yet more generosity.

An even better waterfall

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Nicola

While we were wet camping by Ullswater we went up to Aria Force again knowing that the sheer volume of rain would make it and High Force show-stoppers. The waterfalls are owned by the National Trust, and have a lot of visitors. But you can just about escape the crowds by following the path up towards Gowbarrow Fell. In fact we got so keen on the ascent that we decided to climb the fell and have smarties (rather than a picnic) at the top.

Nell beat us all to the top this time, and then beat us all downhill too. Both girls will soon find their parents slowing them down at this rate...

The pic is of Lola by High Force which is a beautiful and noisy waterfall. Though it is smaller than the Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe it could so easily have got the same name given that the Victorians were swarming over the Lake District 150 years ago. Just before Pete and I decided to give up plane travel in a bid to make more of a concious effort not to clock up even more carbon emissions we visited friends in Zimbabwe and toddling Lola (aged one and a half years) came too. There's a pic of her being carried in a backpack wrapped in waterproofs as we stroll through the spray looking for rainbows. How lovely to be able to do the same thing in Britian, without having to carry our daughter this time...

Perhaps the best part of this trip was seeing the girls realise why Ullswater kept rising during the day - inching steadily towards our tent - even when it wasn't raining.

Beatrix Potter's house

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Nicola, Lola and Nell (pic is of Pete and Nell reading A Tale of Two Bad Mice by Potter's favourite tarn)

Nicola: Beatrix Potter was able to buy a house from the sales of her first book, Peter Rabbit. Pete and I are obscenely jealous! However visiting Hill Top Farm at Sawrey was a really good day out - we were very lucky to get in as there were mini bus loads of Japanese tourists who clearly adore the cutesy side of Potter's illustrations.

Our friend Tom Wakeford (who has recently lent us his house and camping field) is a bit miffed that everyone forgets that Beatrix Potter was an amazing biologist who made astonishing discoveries about lichens in 1896 which the scientific community refused to accept. She has of course been proved write, and Tom has a full chapter on Beatrix in his book Liaisons of Life: from hornworts to hippos how the unassuming microbe has driven evolution (John Wiley, 2001). Though it has been translated into Korean he still needs to sort out the Japanese translation. At Beatrix's old house (which she gifted to the National Trust) one of the guides told us that he was planning to learn Japanese this winter because of the number of Japanese visitors. Good for him.

Lola: "I love Beatrix Potter's books and I got given two for my birthday. I saw a photo of Beatrix Potter and she didn't look anything like she does in the film, Miss Potter. She was really ugly. All of her books (apart from Peter Rabbit) were written at Hill Top. Beatrix Potter would have had no light (electricity) and no running water. She had her desk by the window so she could get the light. It must have been really difficult -dark and cold - in the winter. We also went up to the tarn where Jeremy Fisher was created. We didn't see a frog, but me and Nell pretended to be Hunka Munka and Tom Thumb (from a Tale of Two Bad Mice) and we ran all around the rocks pretending it was our mousehole."

Nell: "Beatrix Potter was an amazing writer. One of her best books was the Tale of Samuel Whiskers which has lots of pictures of her house in it. I found the staircase, the red curtain, the fireplace, the rolling pin and that thing where you hang bowls and cups and spoons (a dish rack).

Wet camping IS fun

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Lola & Nell (currently in the dry using a wi-fi connection at the Rhegged centre in Penrith)

Lola: "Wet camping is very odd, especially if you are by a rising lake like we are (Ullswater, in the Lake District). Every night I go to sleep I worry that the tent will flood! I don't much like going to the loo in the wood because... you can use your imagination. It makes you think what it would be like to live without a permanent roof. I miss toilets, laptops, telephones and beds. Daddy misses coffee."

Nell: "I think it is fun because it is actually quite nice when you have a boat house to go into for breakfast or lunch. It's really good listening to the rain on the tent. We had a BBQ yesterday and I ate croissants stuffed with veggie sausages. We also had chocolate banana and apricots stuffed with chocolate. Mummy says that you have to have lots of treats if it's raining a lot when you camp. I miss toilets, cutlery and plates/bowls etc and a pillow."

Selling Sellafield

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Pete

Sellafield nuclear power station is desperate for good PR. When we phone to ask if the visitors' centre is open they immediately send a minibus to pick us up from the suitably apocalyptic looking Sellafield station (where the rust on the phone - see pic - comes from sea storms rather than fall-out). Yes, we've all gone fission. Alan our driver has worked at Sellafield for 21 years and happily chats about his son. The plant still employs 9,000 local people even though it's being decommissioned and many Cumbrians are avidly pro-nuclear.

The Dr Who-like visitors' centre, all silver piping and corridors, contains more friendly staff and is free to enter. The children receive free pencils, wrist bands and 'bangers', pieces of card and paper that make a pleasing bang. It has interactive games (ie you jump on various circles to represent each power source) devised by the Science Museum and an area for the kids to make badges and draw.

The displays are surprisingly even-handed, with the argument that nuclear power is green carbon-free energy balanced by a section on the risks of nuclear terrorism; the 1986 Chernobyl accident in Russia that resulted in 28 immediate deaths and an estimated 10,000 cancers; Sellafield's (then Windscale) own near-catastrophe that may eventually result in an extra 30 cancers in the area; andthe fact that no-one knows how to dispose of nuclear waste safely for the next few thousand years. Should you go? Well there are few other visitors, you get loads of free gifts, a vague idea about atoms, and a lift back to the station. It's a surprisingly enjoyable trip. Plus of course, the kids all leave with a healthy glow.

Was this Switzerland?

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Nicola (pic is of the gang on the last bit of Skiddaw, this time via Switzerland)

When William Wordsworth's Guide to the Lakes became a best seller he was supposed to be rather bad tempered that he'd managed to ruin the tranquility of the places he loved by sending tourists to all the best spots. Of course it was totally his fault - he argued forcefully that the Lake District mountains were a better colour, more favourable size and general artisitic appearance than the dramatic Swiss Alps (despite some of these mountains being twice as big). Thanks to him visitors to the Lakes liked to claim it was better than Switzerland. This is one of the reasons that Skiddaw is still sometimes dubbed Keswick's Matterhorn.

Playing in 1777

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Nicola

The revamp of Wordsworth's boyhood home in Cockermouth by the National Trust is masterful http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-vh/w-visits/w-findaplace/w-wordsworthhouse/. The girls and I spent a happy morning dressing up as Dorothy and William, trying out the toys and quizzing the servants about life in 1777 (ie, the 18th century or Georgian times). We discovered that the loos were often disguised as chest-of-drawers; that the table cutlery was laid facing downwards not up (there's a new trend for the home decorating mags to pick up) and that even young girls wore stays (boney bodices that make it hard to bend...).

William (aka Nell)'s favourite toy was the heavy doll with human hair.

Dorothy (aka Lola)'s favourite toy was the wooden hobby horse which she used to gallop around the room before demurely putting on a white linen bonnet and did a row of knitting.

Happy birthday to me

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Lola.

It's my birthday and I'm very happy because I've just been to a heavy horse centre and I sat on a huge Clydesdale horse called Robbie who also starred in a film I really like, Miss Potter. I also go to go in a horse and cart, pulled by a Fell pony called Poppy. On the drive we saw a hare.

Last night I saw about a million (10 says mummy) bats flying around catching insects under the bridge near our house. Bats are cool and really fast.

Thank you friends for calling me or sending me things today, you are the best. Love Lola

Twin peaks

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Pete.

Two more peaks to write home about. Beinn Achaladair (in Scotland) near Bridge of Orchy begins with a walk from Achaladair Farm, which has its own castle ruin and graveyard. One of the Campbells rested here before heading off for a hard day’s slaying at Glen Coe. I’m climbing with Tony from Duilletter. We discuss what we think about while solo climbing. Tony says girls; I confess that as a happily married man it’s more often grills. We climb up a river valley into a great amphitheatre of shattered rock.

As we climb on the great tongue of rock towards the summit we are buffeted by huge winds. As we approach 3,600 feet our fingers go pink and we don every item of clothing we have. Without gloves I’m unsable to up a zip or shoelace. And this is Scotland in June; but worth it for the views across to Ben Nevis, Rannoch Moor and to the south the endless ridges of mountains as far as Ben Lomond. Amazingly, we’ve climbed all day without seeing another human being.

A week later (in the Lake District) it’s a much easier ascent from Honister Pass in the Lake District to Dale Head. The Honister Rambler bus stops here and the slate mine has been reopened too. You can go underground, put your purchase on the slate and even buy tea and pasties before ascending.

After an hour’s hard climb there are stupendous views across the Newlands valley. Then I take a ridge walk across to the summit of Robinson and a path down steep rocks and then boggy sphagnum moss into Buttermere – which in the sun with its twin pubs and café and white cottages looks like something out of a Richard Curtis movie. All topped off by a bus back to Cockermouth and a pint of Three Hares in The Bitter End, a pub with its own micro brewery on the premises. Cheers.

What a lot of rubbish

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Nicola (the pic is taken in Carlisle)

Now that recycling is a part of most people's psyche - or at least with the weekly doorstep collections in London where we live there's no excuse for it not to be - it comes as a HORRIBLE shock to discover how terrible recycling collections are in some parts of the country still.

Obviously reusing is the best option, but lots of people don't seem to have even got recycling...

After the hottest day on record this year (26 degrees) most of the campers crowding Loch Lomond, now a national park, seemed to drive home leaving their rubbish behind. On just one small bay I picked up SIX bags of rubbish, including disposable BBQs, full tins of beans and packets of bacon. As there's no recycling down the long, winding lane to Rowardenan all this gets dumped in landfill. No Australian or Kiwi would do this - in the USA national parks visitors even tupperware their poo out.

It was a relief to find that mountain walkers don't seem to dump litter in the same way - on Skiddaw I found just one sweetie wrapper (yes, I picked it up) and Pete says Ben Lomond was litter free.

Wherever we've gone it's been hard to get rid of the rubbish we've collected. In Argyll & Bute - an area the size of Greater London - the supermarket at Oban has a couple of recycling bins and at Dalmally there are three bottle banks (for clear, green and brown glass) beside cattle crushes that have been unused for so long they have sprouted foxgloves. In the district of Stirling there were no alumnium recycling spots for visitors, cans can only be recycled in the domestic collections. This is mystifying as Scotland has millions of visitors who'll be struggling to get rid of their drinks' containers responsibly.

Further south, in the Lake District, Cockermouth town council allegedly plans to close one of its public glass recycling spots because it's inconvenincing mums on the school run (this sounds so crazy I wonder if I read it right).

None of the big train/bus stations we've been through - Euston, Glasgow, Workington (though it holds the record for being the first UK-purpose built bus station with covered roof!), or Carlisle have recycling facilities either for water bottles or coke cans.

If you are unlucky enough to live in a place where you still struggle to recycle you could try contacting your local Friends of the Earth group http://www.foe.co.uk/ which is sure to be up on what you can do to help sort it out.

We've climbed Mount Everest

Nicola, Pete, Lola and Nell want to travel the world with a difference. We hope to get a taste of many countries without adding to climate change (with needless emissions from aeroplanes) or having to waste hours of holiday time in airport terminals. We hope our adventures inspire you to take a Grand Tour of your neighbourhood. This post is from Nicola (pic shows our caterpillar friends)

The huge mountain dominating the Lakeland town of Keswick is Skiddaw. Unlike most mountains you don’t need a map up as there’s an easy path to the summit. But the route still climbs a massive 931 metres high (more than 3,000 feet). Over the past year our family has made several unsuccessful attempts to climb it – only to be driven back by rain, cloud, connecting bus links and a mystery vomiting outbreak. No wonder we think of this mountain as the most challenging in the world, Everest.

Weather conditions were perfect: cool and clear on the fell slopes and up at the top enough whispy cloud and freezing wind to know you are just about at the top of Britain. The girls powered up using pear drops (lola) and minstrels (nell). Fabulous distractions included fell runners (training to complete 43 peaks in 24 hours…), plus chats with a fit woman who had recently coaxed her five-year-old up Snowdon in Wales, a Dutch couple wheeling their pram down the mountain and anyone with a dog.

Yet again the animals were stars. On the way up it was the Herdwick sheep (a Lakeland breed) which helped lure the kids towards the summit, and just when we were in the “death zone” – that bit at the top where logic says turn back, but emotions insist you must go on even if it’s certain death to continue (think Mallory in his tweeds on Everest) the caterpillars turned up.

This month only on the highest slopes of Skiddaw (and apparently Hellvelyn too) there are thousands, maybe millions, of brown striped antler moth caterpillars chomping through the grassy hillside. It’s a phenomenon that occurs once a decade – utterly amazing to see until you get blasé about the quantities. The girls gave several a hitch-hike in their wooly hats (Catriona, Katya and the singer/songwriter Cat Stephens) up the slopes until they were suitably disgusted by the discovery that caterpillars do many green dot poos.

After three and a half hours Lola bagged the summit first, Pete at the tail end. As Nell pointed out this was because he was so busy “talking to dragons”. Lola who is developing a penchant for sarcasm added that he only talked to the ones in claret and blue…

If you want to climb a mountain with kids then this is the one. Or hedge your bets and go up Snowdon which has a train service to the top, and a café! All the training you need is the daily walk to school…