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| | | | Walkies for rovers on the Scillies
From the Daily Mail
Have dog, will travel. For me, a holiday is not a holiday without my basset hound Basil, and we've just had the time of our lives on the almost heavenly Isles of Scilly.
We flew from Penzance by helicopter, Basil beside my seat in a special Sky Kennel for the 20-minute flight; no problems. We took the airport bus to the tourist office for our free 'whoopsie kits' (I pride myself on being a responsible dog owner) and went on by taxi to our self-catering accommodation, Standing Stone, on the main island, St Mary's.
Described in the brochure as 'set in rugged isolation', Standing Stone was stunningly located on a flower farm overlooking the sea and a deserted, silver-sanded cove. However, our taxi driver, having wittered on about his shock absorbers, refused to bump the last rugged half-mile to the front door.
So what, I thought? I like being off the beaten track. So did Basil. Outside was doggy heaven, with hundreds of rabbits to be chased across grass that had been nibbled to a gorgeous, velvety smoothness.
'Thanks to the rabbits, we have not mowed our lawn for two years,' said our landlord as we sat in the private walled garden, perfume wafting from the flower fields, the beach scattered with shells and the sea as turquoise and clear as the Indian Ocean.
Only a few yards away was Bant's Carn, a perfectly preserved burial chamber, and the amazing stone excavations of 3,000-year-old houses, walls and garden plots.
It was bliss for two days. But rapture dimmed on the third day when it rained. Why is rain on holiday so much wetter? The magical, scenic, two-and-a-half-mile walk to the shops (and back, because no taxis were available) seemed suddenly daunting.
Try tramping along a coastal path in blustery gales, rain like stair rods, fleece saturated, loaded down with tins of Chum and food rations, and you soon feel sorry for yourself. Back indoors the terrible smell of wet dog pervaded Standing Stone and, curses, I'd forgotten the milk and cooking oil. But I must not grumble.
Travel guide: England
The magic circles brought to life
Big rocks, so what? Stonehenge and much of the prehistoric landscape of Wessex can be all too easily dismissed in the hurly-burly of our 21st Century world.
In fact, the area - marked by sacred hills, rings, mounds and henges - speaks of a past where communities worshipped the unknown and acted out the great human themes of life and death under open skies.
The stones bound them to the sun and moon above, and the earth beneath.
Andante is a travel company run by archaeologists who are keen to bring ancient history alive. And to find out if they succeed, I went to explore the ancient sites of prehistoric Wessex.
The monuments cover vast areas, yet are linked. They frame and separate their part of the landscape from the world outside.
The two most famous, built around the time of the Egyptian pyramids, are Avebury and that icon of durability, Stonehenge.
Over a weekend based in Salisbury, Wiltshire, our guide and lecturer, Andrew Lawson, would take us to see the sites and explain what, when, who and why?
Andrew is the director of the Trust for Wessex Archaeology and he met our group of 10 in ye olde worlde bar of the Rose and Crown Hotel, Harnham, on the banks of the River Avon.
He enthused about his subject - and before dinner he gave us a focused lecture, quickly dismissing as fiction the theory that Stonehenge was built and used by druids.
William Stukeley, an l8th Century landscape archaeologist, came up with that one, and it still persists today.
An exhaustive dig by the Society of Antiquaries from 1919 destroyed much of what it was trying to understand, but when Professor Richard Atkinson became involved in the late Forties, Stonehenge began to make sense.
Travel guide: England
Take time out on the marsh mellow
From the Mail on Sunday
As we bumped through the potholes along the unmade road, the taxi driver remarked that when you see dingy lace curtains at the windows of a hotel, you know you're not going to like it. Glancing at the sea to our right, grey in the twilight, and the suburban houses looming spookily to our left, I wondered whether he was telling me that Romney Bay House did or did not boast such depressing features.
There was no time to enquire, since the other houses suddenly petered out and we drew up in front of the hotel standing alone on the reedy marsh.
I'd come to Kent to visit my oldest chum who lives in an area I knew little about, and decided to put up at such a remote spot because this was a hotel with a history. Strange as it may seem to locate a house on the edge of bleak marshland, Romney Bay House was built in the 1920s for the Hollywood gossip columnist Hedda Hopper by Sir Clough Williams Ellis, creator of the Italianate Portmeirion in Wales.
Romney Marsh stretches along this sweeping coastline from Rye in the west to Hythe in the east. It was once a fashionable seaside playground with the nearby residence of Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin attracting the great and the good.
Entirely submerged under the sea in ancient times, the marsh became properly habitable only when the construction of the Royal Military Canal in the early 19th century provided arterial drainage. Long before, in 55BC, Julius Caesar landed at Port Lympne; the area remains famous for its turbulent history of smuggling and derring-do.
All that was visible on my arrival were the clean, white, symmetrical lines of Romney Bay House. There were no dingy curtains inside, but for my taste a surfeit of swagging, cushions, ribbons and dried flowers. For all that, the atmosphere was warm and welcoming and pervaded by the heady scent of white lilies.
I was soon installed in one of the large attic bedrooms, where the intense quiet was interrupted only by the lapping of the waves outside. Staff were there should guests need them but stayed discreetly unobtrusive, so if you had come to get away from people you could help yourself from an honesty bar downstairs.
The potential for solitude was further enhanced by the lack of a telephone in the bedroom. And if you've left your kids behind for a weekend of peace, you won't run into anyone else's - they don't take them under 14.
Travel guide: England
A remarkable island
I first visited the Isle of Man in 1980. It was TT week and the atmosphere was electric.
Since that time, I have revisited almost every year, my favourite part of the island being Port Erin and Port St Mary.
These days, I prefer the slower pace of life, somewhat distanced from the bikes!
For anyone who has not had the privilege of traveling to the "Misty Isle" I would thoroughly encourage you to do so at your earliest opportunity.
From the first time I set foot on the island, I experienced its very real and special magic, which returns each time I revisit.
Its beauty and tranquility are indescribable.
This year alone I have been fortunate enough to travel across three times, each visit being more magical than the last.
It's truly a remarkable island, upon which, one day, I hope to be able to settle.
Travel guide: England
Bewitched by the spell of Pendle
From the Mail on Sunday
Even when the sun is shining and the rivers merrily gurgle through the quaint villages and scenic countryside, there is something eerie about Lancashire's Ribble Valley.
Perhaps it's Pendle Hill, looming over the landscape with its dark and barren slopes. Or maybe it's the quietude of an area with such outstanding beauty you would expect it to be teeming with tourists, especially after the Queen revealed this was the place she would choose for her retirement.
Most probably it's because this is Lancashire Witch Country and - as any visitor to these 200 square miles north of Manchester and south of the Lake District soon finds out - there are spooky stories to be told.
The most famous is that of the Pendle Witches. In 1612, nine people from the villages beneath Pendle Hill were found guilty of witchcraft. Their crimes included paralysing a peddler, turning ale sour at a local inn and causing the slow death of a woman through crumbling a clay effigy. They were hanged at Lancaster Castle in the summer of the same year.
Whether these villagers really were practising evil arts or were merely victims of the tide of religious persecution by James I, their tale has inspired many writers to come up with either factual or fictionalised accounts, such as Robert Neil's classic novel, Mist Over Pendle.
Whatever the truth, the shadows remain. It's said that on Hallowe'en, witches roam the village of Sabden - which lies in the shadow of Pendle Hill - and each year hundreds of witch-spotters arrive in the hope of a sighting.
You might expect the witchcraft connection to be used as a tool to entice more visitors. In fact, surprisingly little is made of it. We only came across one souvenir shop and a rather small exhibition in Barrowford.
One of the few tourism publications on the subject is a map of the final journey taken by the Pendle Witches to Lancaster Castle. The 45-mile route for cars or bicycles includes a walk to the summit of Pendle Hill (it has no road) and a visit to the castle and museum at Clitheroe, the main town in the Ribble Valley.
Travel guide: England
If you go down to the woods tonight
Deep in Wytham Woods, just outside Oxford, I found myself hugging a tree trunk as dusk descended.
I wasn't performing an arcane rite or communing with nature. I was enduring a rainy summer evening in the hope of catching a glimpse of that elusive creature, the badger.
This beautiful ancient wood, owned by Oxford University, is home to the densest population of badgers in the world.
Along with my fellow badger watchers, I had volunteered to assist in the monitoring of British mammals, one of 130 projects offered by the environmental charity Earthwatch which gives members of the public the chance to work with scientists as field assistants.
Our leader, Dr Christina Buesching, from the university's wildlife conservation unit, advised us to stay downwind of the badgers and keep as quiet and still as possible.
After what seemed an age but was probably only 15 minutes, a head popped up out of a sett about 15ft away. There was no mistaking that distinctive white stripe.
Oohs and aahs were stifled, and within half an hour there was a badger breakout with at least ten more sightings. Shooting out to the left and right, they dashed off in search of their favourite food - earthworms.
The show culminated with one treating us to an awesome scratching display (they are plagued with lice and fleas).
Sitting on his ample rear with legs akimbo, he scratched his coal-black tummy. His sigh of contentment was almost palpable as, replete, he slipped back into the sett.
Elated, we adjourned to a local pub to meet up with other members of the project. They had been assigned to other locations but had not met with the same success.
However, as the six-day itinerary promised two other evenings on badger watch, the hope was that every member of the 12-strong team would have at least one sighting.
Travel guide: England
A dreamy day out in Oxford
From the Daily Mail
Oxford might have some of the most dreamy spires in the world, but finding your way round can be demanding. Try our plan for Oxford in a day-
9.30am
The Oxford Story, Broad Street. This interactive show is a good place to start. It provides a fun way of discovering what the university is all about.
Sit in a motorised desk to ride round the three-storey exhibition while listening to a headphone commentary by Magnus Magnusson (Timmy Mallett for children). Displays include a modern student's room, accurately recreated with an Oasis poster, stolen road sign and pile of empty lager cans.
10.30pm
Now you're ready for the real thing. Step out into Broad Street but watch out for students whizzing past on bicycles - this is the heart of the university area.
The best - and cheapest - way of seeing the real Oxford is to wander round, taking peeps into college doors to glimpse historic squares. There are 40 colleges, which have unpredictable and individual opening times. They charge entry fees but only a few are worth paying to see, unless you are particularly interested in academic history or architecture.
On Broad Street, for example, you'll see entrances for the Balliol and Trinity colleges. Have a quick look - though it's just as interesting to pop into Blackwell's Bookshop next door, and it's free.
10.45pm
Blackwell's. This is certainly no ordinary bookshop. When Blackwell's opened its first tiny shop in 1879 only three people could fit inside. Generations of students helped the shop grow to become one of the biggest in the world. It now stocks a quarter of a million books. The bookshop is so big it even has a pub in the middle of it. The quaint White Horse is a favourite of the TV character, Inspector Morse.
Travel guide: England
On the English Civil Warpath
From the Mail on Sunday
Just another barley crop growing in deepest, agricultural Northamptonshire . . . but this is no ordinary field. It is steeped to the subsoil in history.
Some chaffinches chirrup a brief fanfare, a few shafts of sunlight illuminate the tableau, then the imagination rolls back 358 years to when only rough grass grew.
In my mind's eye the foreground is thick with frantic men, clashing swords, thrusting pikes, pounding hooves, the screams of the wounded, shouts of victory.
In little more than the span of a football match, the future of British democracy was decided here.
The Battle of Naseby began around 10am on June 14, 1645, and was over by noon.
Had they had Battle Of The Day then, highlights would have included a daring charge down the right flank by the Royalist cavalry under Prince Rupert, then a counter thrust by General Fairfax, followed by a ferocious slam down the other side by Oliver Cromwell and his horsemen. Result - a decisive Civil War win for the Roundheads.
Four years later Charles I was executed and Cromwell's short-lived republican experiment began.
The new British film To Kill A King follows the two heroes of Naseby. Dougray Scott is the brilliant General Fairfax, the aristocrat who joined the Parliamentarians. Tim Roth takes the part of their leader, the dour Cromwell. Rupert Everett plays Charles.
The wars, between 1642 and 1651, ebbed and flowed in battles, sieges and skirmishes from Lostwithiel in Cornwall to Dunbar in Scotland, from St Fagan's in Wales to Winceby in Lincolnshire - a frantic half-hour cavalry duel where Fairfax first made his mark.
You are never far from somewhere - perhaps a church or a stately home, which in the immortal words of the Marie Lloyd song Cromwell 'knocked about a bit'.
Travel guide: England
Not just a load of old cobblers
Back in 1980, at the height of the town's great expansion - the Northampton Development Corporation released a promotional single called Energy In Northampton.
Perhaps unsurprisingly for a record effectively made by the council, it wasn't very good.
Sung by Linda Jardim, its lyrical conceit - and I kid you not - was that extra-terrestrials, forced to leave their home planet, are scouting the Earth for somewhere to relocate their pointy-headed race.
They plump for Northampton.
Perhaps they'd heard, from across the vast, airless expanse of the cosmos, that Northamptonshire's county town was 'the handsomest and best built in all this part of England' - although Daniel Defoe wrote that in his book A Tour Through The Whole Island Of Great Britain in 1724. A lot had changed in the intervening 250 years.
When that record was released I was 15 and thought the town I had lived in all my life was OK.
It had the Grosvenor shopping centre, 300,000 square ft of retail opportunity which boasted a W. H. Smith, Beatties department store and a Sainsbury's (where I would later earn £1.21 an hour on Saturdays).The enthusiastic town planners had left a verdant field at the bottom of our road with a stream in it and plenty of trees, and I could cycle to my well-appointed redbrick comprehensive, no bother.
Northampton may have no longer been the shoemaking capital of Europe, but Carlsberg had a huge brewery on the banks of the Nene and the Express Lifts factory was soon to attract the attention of Terry Wogan on Radio 2 with its newly-built lift-testing tower, or 'the Northampton Lighthouse' as he waggishly christened it.
Also, within a couple of years, local Goth rock band Bauhaus would be in the Top 20 with their cover of David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust.
Indeed, it was only when I moved to London aged 19 to attend college that I began to realise what a faceless, uninteresting, glamour-free place Northampton really was.
Travel guide: England
Wildly romantic
My boyfriend Charlie announced we were off for a romantic weekend - Paris? No, Lynmouth, he said.
It was a long drive on a wild and windy Friday night after work, but my spirits lifted when we checked into a thatched 16th-century inn on the quayside. After that, it was candlelight and roses all the way - great food, great views and you can imagine the rest.
Next day we put on our walking shoes and strode out along a lovely wooded valley with a river running along the bottom and rustic stone bridges that took us to Watersmeet, where there's an old fishing lodge, now a tearoom, in the most idyllic setting.
On Sunday we took the cliff-lift (actually a water-powered Victorian train!) up to Lynton, which isn't as pretty as Lynmouth nestling below, but has some good views along the coast.
The scenery around here is wildly romantic, with wooded hills falling sheer to the water. Lynmouth is very pretty and is probably overcrowded in summer, but we were there in September and it made the perfect weekend break.
Travel guide: England
Magic of the East
From the Mail on Sunday
It was our first night in Norfolk. We were on our way to the pub on the village green, driving along winding lanes, shafts of soft pink evening sunlight flooding the stillness of pea-green meadows, when we saw the barn owl perched imperiously on a wooden post.
The big, flat, dinner-plate face turned slowly to inspect us with unafraid eyes that seemed to say: 'You're not hurrying me.' The bird preened its chocolate and vanilla breast feathers a little and, with no small measure of disdain at this disturbance, took off to hunt in the woods and river banks for its evening meal of vole.
Later, as we ate Lowestoft crab and sipped Chardonnay in the Brisley Bell, we saw Olly Beak diving and swooping over the darkening cricket ground, putting on a flashy sunset cabaret of irresistible aeronautics.
He wasn't showboating. This was a food hunt, deadly and serious. What a privilege though, indeed thrilling, to see such a beautiful, dignified creature working at the game of survival in the wild less than three hours after we had left the traffic and madness of Central London. It was also an extraordinary opening act to a magical three-day break in a forgotten part of an empty county that has, in places, a strange timeless quality.
I had been to Gateley near Fakenham once before. It was a shot in the dark. We had wanted to stay in a farmhouse and had been told by a friend in nearby Walsingham of one that was buried deep in a sylvan setting with its own deer herd, showground rams and a garden straight out of a Helen Allingham watercolour.
On arrival it turned out to be a classic Georgian, unpretentious but stylish 18th-century gem, all mellow brick, perfect proportions, with climbing sweet peas rambling around the blue open door, a sunroom and a big tabby cat asleep on the best cane chair. What bliss! At night the perfume of the roses is so strong you could bottle it. The only sound in the night air is the odd hoot from our newfound friend.
From Centre Farm it is a 25-minute drive through picture-postcard backwaters fording small rivers, their banks swathed in summer reeds, to the coastal villages of Cley, Wells, Burnham Overy Staithe and Blakeney, where Nelson first stepped into a dinghy and learnt to sail in the creeks and marshes which lead eventually to the cold waters of the North Sea.
The beaches such as Holkham, miles of wide open sand with the sea usually miles away (it was here where Gwyneth Paltrow walked barefoot in Shakespeare In Love), are bracing and perfect for childhood pursuits like crabbing and shell collecting.
In Blakeney, Beans Boats take parties of 25 by chugging wooden luggers out to the sandbanks, where on a good day you will see 40 or 50 common and grey seals, some young pups, some looking like old walruses.
They lie contentedly on the sand, curiously eyeing these boats of humans bobbing about just a few feet away from them, and the more adventurous will dive into the sea to inspect you, their shiny moustached heads set with deep, imploring eyes, surfacing just a few feet away from the outstretched hands of children.
Travel guide: England
Hollywood stars beat a path to north Norfolk
From the Mail on Sunday
With a bemused grin, the Viscount Coke says: 'I have to admit I didn't really know who Gwyneth Paltrow was. I didn't pay that much attention when they came to film.'
Tom Coke (pronounced 'Cook' - you are informed very quickly!), the son of the Seventh Earl of Leicester and heir to the Holkham Estate, is striding across the huge, fantastic sweep of Holkham Beach; seven miles long and up to a mile wide when the tide is out at its furthest.
The air is full of the sound of calling oystercatchers and the roar of North Sea waves pounding the sand. His springer spaniels Snail and Slug and Irish terrier Hector race ahead across the sand, intoxicated by the vast open space.
We were on the very spot where Gwyneth Paltrow is pictured in that memorable scene at the end of the film Shakespeare In Love.
In the story she is supposed to be across the Atlantic in Virginia. Cinema-goers saw the wonderful swathe of sand fringed by pine trees and assumed that this gorgeous beach must have been in some exotic foreign spot.
Not, of course, the audience at the Regal cinema, Cromer, where Tom Coke finally caught up with the cinematic career of Ms Paltrow: 'When that final scene came on a huge buzz went around the audience and we all said, "Oh gosh, that's Holkham Beach! '
However, the residents of this extremely delightful corner of Norfolk could be forgiven for being a little blase about the movie business.
Not far from Holkham Beach in Wells, Stanley Kubrick shot scenes for Full Metal Jacket when Norfolk was used as a stand-in for the paddy fields of Da Nang.
'It did look very like Vietnam,' admits Tom Coke.
And when All Saints were shooting the video for the song used in the film The Beach, Holkham Beach was used to look like Thailand. And somebody at the Victoria Hotel bumped into S Club 7 filming their video a couple of weeks ago.
'There's also a production company talking about another major film here later in the year,' says Viscount Coke.
Travel guide: England
Still Dad's Army country
Any Dad's Army fan knows that this classic of all British sitcoms was set on the South Coast of England.
But try to find the fictional Walmington-on-Sea there and you'll be almost as hapless as Captain Mainwaring and his men.
In fact, the cult comedy was filmed in and around Thetford in Norfolk and the broadcast by the BBC of two 'lost' episodes is generating an interest in visiting those locations.
The perfect starting point for a Dad's Army recce is the Anchor Hotel in Thetford. The cast used to stay here and at the Bell Hotel, across the river, during filming, and the first scene of the first episode was filmed, in 1968, in what was the Anchor's Norvic Room, but which is now the High Seas Restaurant.
The rare seafront scenes were shot in Lowestoft, in Suffolk, and Winterton, but Thetford was used repeatedly in the 80 episodes of Dad's Army.
It's a compact town, bisected by two rivers, the Little Ouse and the Thet, with narrow streets of flint-fronted houses.
I took a walk down Bridge Street to Newtown, where in one episode the orange-brick pre-War council houses formed the backdrop to a scene in which the platoon practised subterfuge cunningly disguised as dustbins, and down Bury Road to the derelict church of St Mary the Less.
It was in this churchyard that Corporal Jones undertook an obstacle course designed to prove he was fit enough to remain in the platoon.
Over the river is Nether Row, where he showed off his butcher's van, newly converted as troop transport.
Nether Row's terrace of flat-fronted cottages - renamed Percy Street on TV - were used countless times as a backdrop.
When a German paratrooper's parachute got caught on the town hall clock, the warden stood down here and had bottles chucked at him by Pike.
Travel guide: England
Boards and lodging
Tucking into a kangaroo steak while watching bronzed surfers ride the rollers, it was easy to imagine for a moment that I was Down Under.
The sun shone from a flawless blue sky, sub-tropical palms waved in the breeze, and the waitress came from Woolloomooloo.
Only this wasn't New South Wales, but Newquay in Cornwall, self-styled surfing capital of Europe.
'Go hard or go home' says the message painted on the rafters of the cavernous Australasian Bar in the town centre.
On Fistral Beach, Britain's answer to Bondi, several thousand sun-bleached twentysomethings from all around the globe were furiously catching the waves without any thought of home.
In the early evening, others were already packing Newquay's plethora of pubs and clubs for yet another night on the town.
No seaside resort has undergone such fundamental change as this North Cornwall fishing village and former port for iron ore and china clay.
Families still come here, drawn by beautiful beaches, the Eden Project, and a host of other attractions in the surrounding countryside.
But in Newquay, which manages to support at least a dozen surfing schools and seven major night clubs, action is the name of the game.
Travel guide: England
Northern nightlife
Big-boned girls - some of them carrying inflatable men - were apparently wearing Calista Flockhart's cast-offs.
A gang of what initially seemed to be mini-skirted policewomen wearing improbably high heels, picked their way over the cobbles.
Judging by the daunting queue, the club called Sea was clearly the one to get into on a Friday night.
'I think we're floundering,' said my friend Debbie. This hadn't been the idea. We'd abandoned boyfriends and sundry tasteful friends in the capital who had thought we were too old for a weekend of raucous fun in Newcastle.
But we eventually found it at the queue-free Julie's 2, where women danced in cages and the Bacardi Breezers came thick and fast.
Darren, a fireman, took pity on our Southern-ness with some confidence boosting chatting up and promised to show us a great view of the Tyne if we turned up at the station the next day.
A weekend in Newcastle. Did we care that Newcastle has just been named by Newsweek as one of the world's most creative cities?
Or that it has more listed buildings than any other city in the country apart from London and Bath? Not really.
Or that the fantastically beautiful Millennium Bridge across the Tyne now links Newcastle to Britain's latest arts centre, the Baltic? We weren't fussed.
We were there for the nightlife - Newcastle is now a recognised centre for lively hen and stag weekends.
'We could get T-shirts made and pretend to be a hen party,' said Debbie the next morning over a very late breakfast. 'And make-up. Our matt appearance did us no favours last night.'
Travel guide: England
Bad press, good hotel
There are not many hotels where the walls are plastered with unfavourable reviews - most places prefer to sweep them under the carpet.
The Vineyard at Stockcross near Newbury has had some truly stinging reviews and rather than retire hurt it has them all over the walls in the reception area.
It has even written a lengthy poem in response to one particularly barbed review in a national newspaper.
The general manager at The Vineyard, Nick Hanson, is quite philosophical about reviewers who slate the small hotel near Newbury.
"There is no point hiding them. They deem us worth coming to review, but we are confident that what we have is fine," he says.
So fine in fact, the hotel escaped the worst ravages of foot and mouth which devastated tourism locally.
Obsequious service, too many frills and flounces, over-fancy food and high prices are all criticisms levelled at The Vineyard.
True, the service is very attentive, the decor is a bit frilly and the bill may blow your socks off but this is not somewhere you would stay every day.
Travel guide: England
The longitude way to walk
From the Mail on Sunday
You will find the official starting line for the next thousand years on a farm trail in East Sussex, just a mile from the preserved Bluebell Steam Railway.
Until recently tracing zero degrees longitude out in the countryside was as hard as finding the end of a rainbow. And there was nothing to show that this section of muddy track was any different. But I knew this was it. With one stride I passed over the Earth's seam.
Forget crossing the equator. The Greenwich Meridian, on its arrow-straight, 270-mile course from the eroding coast at Tunstall in East Yorkshire to Peacehaven on the East Sussex cliffs, is the coming countryside attraction. New technology is seeing to that.
Since the world accepted it as the pivot of world navigation 115 years ago, the Meridian has been almost invisible outside Greenwich. You needed a full team of surveyors and a forest of theodolites to locate it. Differential global positioning system (DGPS) has changed all that. A computer can show in a flash exactly where the Meridian runs, to an accuracy of a metre.
And there are now dozens of places where you can find this fine line, because a team from the Millennium Tree Line project at the University of Greenwich is touring the countryside marking it out by planting trees, attached to distinctive 4ft 6in high stakes.
I joined them on the Heaven Farm Nature Trail, near Uckfield, East Sussex, set in the High Weald - pleasant, rolling countryside in the most wooded county in England - with views almost to Beachy Head.
We inspected the magnificent Wellingtonia, or Californian Big Tree, which farmer John Butler planted in 1984 where he thought the line was, to mark the centenary of the Prime Meridian. He plotted its course using a map. But the grid lines stake out Britain as if it were flat and take no account of the earth's curvature.
Charles Roper, our surveyor, made some quick calculations on his computer, which consulted seven satellites, and showed the Wellingtonia to be about 50 yards out. Mr Butler has now planted further trees which should one day become part of a continuous green thread across the countryside, marking the Meridian.
The Millennium Tree Line project wants farmers, landowners, councils, conservation bodies and homeowners whose property lies on the Meridian to follow suit by planting native species - such as aspen, willow, oak and juniper - over its entire length. As they mature, the hope is that in the next century a pilot would be able to chart a Meridian course just by following the trees.
In the meantime, enjoy the pleasure of discovering the Meridian in the English countryside, where it crosses streams, bisects fields, cuts through hills and tangles itself up with twirling country footpaths. The latest Ordnance Survey Land Ranger maps have it clearly marked and take you straight to the line, give or take a few yards.
The easiest place to see it is at the Royal Observatory at Greenwich, marked by the cross wires in the Airy Transit Circle, where a Victorian Astronomer Royal decreed zero degrees longitude should run.
With the aid of the maps I travelled south, using buses and trains to miss out the nondescript bits. After crossing Blackheath, the line runs south through Lewisham, down Ardgowan Road in Catford and through Bromley Park, slipping between West Wickham and Hayes stations and out of London in a valley just east of New Addington.
It crosses the North Downs Way just north of the M25 and the Greensand Way just to the south of the motorway. Oxted station in Surrey, a few hundred yards west, is a good base from which to explore the line where it passes through some of the best Meridian scenery.
At Lingfield it runs a few hundred yards from the racecourse. On it goes, past Uckfield and Lewes, until it leaves England at Peacehaven, passing through a school. Here they planted the first trees on the Tree Line: a large-leaved lime, a field maple and a box.
One of the best places to visit the line north of London is the Lee Valley Regional Park. Just north of Waltham Abbey on the B194 are the Lee Valley Park Farms. Park here and see where David Bellamy planted a number of elms and ash trees last winter to inaugurate the park's new Millennium Tree Avenue.
The Regional Park will include part of the first section of the Meridian Millennium Way, a new long-distance footpath. This inaugural instalment will extend for 22 1/2 miles from St Margaret's, near Hoddesdon in Hertfordshire, to the East India Dock Basin, just opposite the Millennium Dome. It should be open, fully signposted, next March.
The next stage, from Greenwich to Oxted will follow soon after. It will take a little longer to plot and signpost a route for the Meridian Way over its entire length, from Cleethorpes in Lincolnshire to Peacehaven. The top will be in the Cleethorpes Leisure Park. The line then passes through Louth and carves through the attractive church at Tetford. From there it crosses the edge of Boston running south to Holbeach.
Other places crossed by the line include Somersham and Swavesey, just north of the Huntingdon to Cambridge road. It also cuts between Great and Little Evers-den and passes through Wyddial church, between Royston and Buntingford.
The path will miss out the section of the Meridian north of the Humber, a pity because it contains my favourite place on the line. In the small village of Patrington the Meridian passes directly through a windmill. Here I experienced that very rare feeling of being somewhere utterly remote and at the centre of things at the same time.
Travel guide: England
Taking a holiday to a bygone era
A holiday has never filled me with quite as much dread as I felt anticipating my week on Lundy.
For a start, there was the child factor: eight of them five and under, all sleeping under one roof, some with a rumoured wake-up time no later than 6am.
How could three families entertain themselves for seven days on a narrow, windswept island in the Bristol Channel with just one pub, a small pebbly beach and the occasional puffin for distractions?
On the two-hour ferry journey to the island of doom only the thought of puffins kept me sane.
I've been dying to see one of those waddling black and white bodies and cheery coloured beaks for as long I can remember, and thought Lundy, old Norse for Puffin Island, was crawling with them.
At least I thought I did until I consulted a wildlife officer. 'Puffins? You'll be lucky if you see one,' he said. 'There are only eight breeding pairs on the island, and most of them have already migrated.'
Then I glimpsed Lundy Island, a tall sliver of vivid green with dazzling pale cliffs, bathed in summer light and looking more like something off the coast of Italy than North Devon.
And afterwards, Millcombe House, the handsomely proportioned, double-fronted - and, we later learned, very haunted - white stucco 1840s house, sheltering at the head of a combe with views down to an azure sea, in which we were going to be roughing it for the next few days.
Maybe, just maybe, I thought, we might survive this ordeal.
And we did. In fact, by the end, we all felt like refugees from one of those back-to-nature Castaway-style programmes, where you've discovered how the world ought to be and never want to return to the real one ever again.
Travel guide: England
The world's top tourist destination
From the Mail on Sunday
It's official - our capital is now the world's top tourist destination. In a survey of more than 25,000 travel agencies in 182 countries, London has, for the first time, been voted the World's Leading Destination.
The World Travel Award could serve as a reminder for Britons to take a fresh look at this fantastic tourist attraction right on our doorstep. However, for most us, things have changed somewhat since we took a school trip round the capital.
So what's the best way to enjoy a quick tour of the major sights today? We set out to try five of the main rival tours round the city centre. They took roughly the same route, including Big Ben, St Paul's and Tower Bridge.
Most guides spout the same facts, but the prices vary from £10 to £70 for a couple of hours. Here's a breakdown of what you see and what you get. The choice is yours.
Travel guide: England
The great rock and roll tour
London has long been the home of rock 'n' roll legends. But until now the locations which saw the birth of bands from The Rolling Stones to the Sex Pistols - as well as the spot where singer Marc Bolan died 25 years ago last week - have been largely unrecorded.
Only one is marked by one of the capital's famous blue plaques - the former home of guitarist Jimi Hendrix in Brook Street, Mayfair.
But now writer Max Wooldridge has assembled some of the greatest in a new book, Rock 'n' Roll London. Here are his top 10.
Marc Bolan, Barnes: Less than a month after Elvis Presley died, rock 'n' roll fans were mourning another loss; Marc Bolan was killed instantly when his Mini GT skidded off the road and smashed into a tree on Barnes Common in South West London.
It was the early hours of September 16, 1977 and Bolan was on his way home from a nightclub in Berkeley Square when his car went out of control on a humpback bridge on Queen's Ride.
The Performing Right Society has since erected a commemorative stone in Bolan's honour but it's the touching personal messages from devoted fans pinned to the tree that make this shrine special.
Travel guide: England
Making a meal out of a good cup of tea
From the Mail on Sunday
When you are tired of tiers of sandwiches, scones and pastries, you are truly tired of life.
Afternoon tea, as served at London's finest hotels and department stores, is the antithesis of power eating.
Instead, it is a reminder of a time when the pace of life was slower and people still had the time to enjoy it.
Here is a selection of five venues that maintain this most traditional of traditions.
THE MILESTONE HOTEL, 1 Kensington Court, London W8 (www.milestoneredcarnationhotels.activehotels.com/WBH tel: 020 7917 1000). Cost: £14.50 per person. Teatime: 3pm-6pm daily.
Ambience: Served among the sofas in the hotel's wood-panelled library, this is a highly aristocratic tea in keeping with the views of Kensington Palace. 9/10
Taste: The finger sandwiches with a medley of fillings (smoked salmon, egg, ham, cucumber, and cheese and tomato) felt a little stale, but the scones were much better - small and pleasingly warm, with three jams and a generous scoop of clotted cream, while the miniature fruit tarts and eclairs had been piled on amply.
My companion considered the chocolate chip cookies an American intrusion. I thought they tasted rather good, if a little dry. 6/10
Service: Anton, our very tall waiter, coped with the very low table by making the initial flourish with the tea strainer on bended knee.
He brought us regular pots of hot water for our tea, otherwise leaving us alone as we enjoyed a genteel session over a copy of Hello! 8/10
Total: 23/30
Travel guide: England
London for free
London is often lambasted for being outrageously expensive to visit. Yet nowadays it has more free first-class attractions than any other capital in the world.
In the Nineties, the Government pledged money to our major museums and galleries to enable them to scrap admission charges.
From the end of last year it hasn't cost a penny to visit the three big South Kensington museums (National History, Victoria & Albert and the Science Museum), the Imperial War Museum in Lambeth or Greenwich's National Maritime Museum.
A couple visiting all five of these amazing treasure troves this spring, instead of last autumn, would save £77.90 on entrance fees (charges for children had already been abolished).
Another big boon of free admission is that you could dip in to all three South Ken museums in the same day (they are yards apart) and focus on their best bits.
But doing away with entrance fees does have a down side: visitor numbers have rocketed.
Comparing February 2002 against February 2001, they've trebled at the V&A, and nearly doubled at the Natural History and Science museums.
Prepare for the worst at weekends, when the museums are busiest. The best way of avoiding the crowds is to hit the most popular galleries first thing in the morning or late in the afternoon.
Crowds are generally not a problem at the Imperial War Museum or the National Maritime Museum.
But the latter's Royal Observatory is small and in the middle of Greenwich park, so can be packed on sunny weekends.
Travel guide: England
History in a pickle
The giant sea monster is just inches from my face. With his watery scowl and dripping mouth, he looks as if he's just been pulled from the ocean.
In fact, this rare arapaima - the world's largest freshwater fish - has been dead for decades.
It's just one of the millions of animals preserved in alcohol in the Natural History Museum's fabulous new Darwin Centre.
The Darwin Centre is the museum's largest new project since it moved to the South Kensington site in the mid-19th Century.
A gallery-cum-storehouse, it provides a permanent home to the 22 million animals that are pickled in spirit.
Guided tours - led by museum scientists - will take visitors through the heart of this extraordinary collection. It allows them to see scientists and researchers at work, and examine close-up the remains of the preserved creatures.
The scale of the collection is awe-inspiring.
There are two million pickled fish and more than three million crustaceans. The 25,000 shelves total some 15 miles. There are 450,000 glass jars and 50 huge tanks, the largest of which contains 1,500 litres of alcohol.
The jewels of the collection are the unique-type specimens. These are the very animals that were used to name and describe a species and are of incomparable scientific importance.
The Spirit Collection, as it's known, contains 170,000 of them.
Some of the exhibits are extremely ghoulish and could have been produced by Damien Hirst. A jar of pickled mice quite put me off my lunch, while a scolopendia gigantea - a foot-long centipede - was straight out of a horror movie.
Travel guide: England
Dedicated followers of Kinks London
Here's a pop-quiz question: As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset, what am I in?
Yes, I am in paradise.
I'm in Waterloo now, sitting on the first floor balcony of the Reef Bar, with its commanding view down the sweeping concourse of Waterloo Station.
So, if I were to tell you I was looking down at the millions of people, what would they be doing?
That's right, they'd be swarming like flies round Waterloo Underground.
Ray Davies, writer of Waterloo Sunset and leader of The Kinks, is the poet laureate of London, chronicling in his songs its glamour, its seediness, its pleasures, its follies, and its homely suburbs better than anyone before or since.
He wrote Dedicated Follower Of Fashion, which is about Carnaby Street, Lola about Soho, and Muswell Hillbillies about his home turf up on the hill.
His song Victoria is, strictly, about the queen rather than the area, but you can stretch a point and add that in too.
In fact, so good is he at conjuring up the spirit of the capital city that you can take a Kinks Tour of London, starting at Waterloo, delving into the West End, heading north through Archway and ending up in Muswell Hill, singing his lyrics all the way.
Oddly, it's only called Waterloo Sunset rather than the original title Liverpool Sunset because the Beatles had just come out with their Liverpool-inspired Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields and Ray decided that, rather than seeming to follow in the Mersey's wake, he would transfer the location to his home city.
I am very glad he did. From my Waterloo vantage point I can do what is most interesting about railway stations - watch people.
Travel guide: England
Buckingham Palace - at home with the royals
You don't have to be a diehard fan of the Royal Family to enjoy looking round what is probably Britain's most famous home - Buckingham Palace.
This year, for the first time, you can wander round some of its magnificent gardens.
Short of receiving an invite to one of the Queen's garden parties, this is as close as most of us will get to the "walled oasis" in the middle of London.
Visitors enter Buckingham Palace through the Ambassadors' Entrance at the side. The first room you see is the rather underwhelming Grand Hall.
It has a surprisingly low ceiling but don't worry, there are far more grand rooms to come.
There are dozens of helpful staff but you will get much more out of your visit if you buy the official guide (£4.50) as there are few signs.
The Grand Staircase leads to the State Rooms, several of which are on show.
First up is the Green Drawing Room - a sort of waiting room for the Throne Room. This used to be used for ceremonial receptions and investitures, but a bigger room has since been built, just down the hall.
It is important to look up in Buckingham Palace - the ceilings really are works of art.
The Picture Gallery is 50 metres long and houses works by Rembrandt, Vermeer, Van Dyck and other great masters. It's almost hard to comprehend that just about every piece of furniture, every picture, wall hanging or sculpture that you see is priceless.
The State Rooms are magnificently opulent but, strangely, people often experience "opulence fatigue" walking round Buckingham Palace.
There are only so many grand rooms with crystal chandeliers, gold ceilings and portraits of long-dead kings that most people can take in at once.
Still the Music Room, Ballroom and Blue Drawing Room are well worth a look.
Travel guide: England
B&B with a millionaire
From the Daily Mail
Hard to believe I'm sitting in a private Notting Hill mansion worth millions, being served fresh orange juice in an elegant, hexagonal dining room and I'm paying not much more than for a night in a Travelodge. A fifth, in fact, than the cost of a room in a Park Lane hotel, where you're not so much a customer as a clone.
Here, I have my own cosy, en-suite bedroom, with a view over a private garden, plus freedom to wander the house and perhaps take a book or two down from the shelves in the library.
Portobello Road is five minutes' walk away, Hugh Grant's house in the film Notting Hill is round the corner and so, if I'm not mistaken, is the Peter Mandelson property there was all that fuss about.
Even better, my hostess is not a gimlet-eyed landlady with a long list of house rules, but the up-market Monica Barrington, a former soft-drinks executive who now runs Uptown Reservations, surely London's grandest B&B group.
Immaculately spoken Monica founded Uptown 10 years ago, with just a handful of holiday flats on her books.
Now she has 85 properties, all in the most prosperous parts of town. 'We've got Cheyne Walk, Walton Street, Hyde Park Gardens Mews, Cadogan Square, Connaught Square and Campden Hill Square,' purrs Monica, pouring me a morning cup of tea.
'We've one place in the heart of theatreland and others tucked away behind Marble Arch and several that are within a few minutes' walk of Harrods.
'First question I ask when an owner approaches us is: "Can I sell the area to our guests?" That's before I even step inside the front door.'
So only the most pukka properties get accepted. In rapid succession, we visit a three-storey Georgian home in an exclusive Kensington square (Campden Hill), an exotically marble-floored apartment in Queensway and a beautifully wood-panelled town house in Chelsea dating back to 1708.
Travel guide: England
All About a Boy's tour
From the Mail on Sunday
Hugh Grant's latest comedy - About A Boy, is meant to be all about Islington - a corner of London that is forever Blairsville, the New Labour stronghold where million-pound houses and environmentalists in ethnic knits meet head-on.
In Nick Hornby's novel, Islington is where Marcus, an unhappy 12-year-old, makes friends with Will, a bored rich 38-year-old, played by Hugh Grant.
But for film-makers, Islington can cover a wide territory.
Why, for instance, does Hugh Grant hike off to Sainsbury's in Richmond - roughly 10 miles away - whenever he needs to nip out to the supermarket?
According to the top-secret locations list I got my hands on, Will's flat is in Clerkenwell.
At least Clerkenwell is near Islington. The property is in Sekforde Street, a few minutes walk from Smithfield Market and the church hall that is the headquarters of SPAT (Single Parents Alone Together) which Will joins after having invented a two-year-old son in the hope of meeting desperate (and desperately attractive) single mothers.
These moody Victorian streets are good for expensive loft apartments, art galleries and people with jobs that allow them to spend hours in restaurants and bars like Smiths of Smithfield.
Clerkenwell is clearly too cool to have a supermarket - although a few doors down from Smiths of Smithfield is the Compton Gascon delicatessen on Charterhouse Street, where Will can be seen gazing at expensive condiments like truffle oil for £6.
But when Hugh Grant wants a haircut, he heads for Notting Hill - and a stone's throw from the blue front door he made famous in the film of that name.
The Parsons Skott salon (cuts from £41) is in Westbourne Grove - an area that is so trendy it outdoes Clerkenwell by having a deli run by Terence Conran's son Tom, as well as being home to Stella McCartney.
Travel guide: England
A grisly gang show
From the Mail on Sunday
It's not every day you get to share a pint with Britain's most notorious gangster. Nor do you often get to hear - first hand - about the violent underworld of the Kray twins' London.
But, sign up for one of 'Mad' Frankie Fraser's Gangland Tours and you'll get to meet the man himself - and find out who killed whom, and why.
Frankie has been friend or foe of virtually every London gangster over the course of his 78 years. He's fought in prison brawls, had numerous nightclub punch-ups and axed fellow gangster Eric Mason.
Dubbed the most dangerous man in Britain by two Home Secretaries, he's also spent more than 40 years behind bars. Now Frankie's going straight and making an honest living from a shady past.
I meet him on his Gangster Bus, which tours London's underworld each Saturday. It visits 11 gangster highlights and Frankie himself provides a morbidly fascinating commentary.
The Gangland Tour takes us first to Evering Road, Stoke Newington, where the house at the corner of Jenner Road hides a dark secret. This was the scene of one of the Krays' most infamous murders - the 1967 killing of Jack 'The Hat' McVitie, a typical East End villain who had done time with Frankie.
'He did drugs and drink, and would smash glasses in people's faces,' recalls Frankie. But then he insulted the Kray twins's mother.
The Krays lured McVitie to the Stoke Newington house, where he was told there would be a party. 'Reggie and Ronnie were waiting for him,' says Frankie.
'Reggie went straight up to McVitie and put a semi-automatic pistol to his head.'
But the gun didn't work - so Reggie stabbed him to death, impaling him to the floor with a knife through his throat.
Travel guide: England
The place to visit
Ok here's the situation. I'm a Londoner and the only view I ever had of Liverpool was Brookside, Anfield and Craig from Big Brother!
I could not have been more wrong. I found Liverpool to be a great city, a very cultural city and a unique city as every single inhabitant is so proud of their city, something (sadly)you no longer find in London.
Once we arrived (I was travelling with a friend of mine, a Liverpudlian) the first thing you see is the impressive Radio Tower that dominates the night sky. You then see the legendary "Dickie Lewis", a well endowed statue attached to the front of one of the big shops in Liverpool.
Liverpool has a good transport system. Having been used to the London Underground the travel system was not as good as I had been used to but it is a very good system, reliant mainly on buses, but very cheap. A travelcard for Liverpool is only £2.90, half the price of the exorbitant London Underground. The travelcard included all the buses, the Merseyrail underground system and the legendary "Ferry Cross the Mersey" (no singing please!).
At Liverpool's impressive Anglican Cathedral you can climb to the top of the 335ft tower for an amazing view stretching as far as Wales, Blackpool and its tower, and the Lake District.
We then toured Anfield Football Stadium and its attached museum which was cheap to get into and is another fine example of what makes Liverpool unique.
Then came time to go on the famous ferry, and I loved it. As part of the travelcard deal we got onto the ferry for free. The price to go across the Mersey if you didn't have the travelcard was more then the actual travelcard itself!
There were stunning views of the Liverpool Docks, including the Liver Building, complete with the Liver Birds (not the Carla Lane versions!). There was also the Maritime Museum and the Albert Docks and I am proud to say I had my photograph taken next to Fred the weatherman from This Morning's floating weather map (should I be proud or ashamed?)
Then, of course, came time to go and pay homage to the Beatles. You can still go in the world famous Cavern Club and there is a real sense of pride and Beatlemania still living and breathing in Liverpool, as everywhere around the club is called the Cavern something-or-other.
Another great thing about Liverpool is its contribution to the Arts. The Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts is now establishing itself as a leading school for Performing Arts and is where I hopefully will study in 2002.
There are also many theatres and Liverpool always receives national tours of many of the West End productions. Of course we cannot forget that Blood Brothers is playing in the West End and is another example of one of Liverpool's finest artistic exports, namely Willy Russell.
With Liverpool Airport being renamed the John Lennon Airport in 2002, the existing and no longer used buildings at Speke have been transformed, with the main building becoming a brand new hotel and the other buildings transforming before Liverpool's eyes.
Overall, Liverpool is a wonderful city, underestimated sadly but watch out Liverpool will soon be the city to visit.
Travel guide: England
The cultural revolution
'Do you see that shop?' asked Terry Allen as we walked down Whitechapel. 'That used to be Brian Epstein's record shop.' It's now a branch of Ann Summers.
Looking a bit like a human Quality Street in his mauve shirt and purple tie, Terry is an official Navigator paid by Liverpool City Council to help bewildered tourists, especially those trying to make sense of a Liverpool in the state of euphoria that came after winning the race to become Europe's City of Culture in 2008.
According to Terry, Liverpool has always had this energy but there's so much scaffolding up you'd be forgiven for thinking parts of the city have been made from a giant Meccano set.
Everyone had recommendations for things to do, from the Sickerts at the Walker Art Gallery to some serious shopping, because the greatest revolution in recent years has been a retail one.
There's no gentle way of putting this, but the site of the Cavern Club is now a shopping mall.
Where the doorway once stood, there's now a designer store called Cricket and the fact that it sells Maharishi clothes is probably little comfort to the true Beatles devotee.
However Terry, who paid 7s 6d to go to his first Beatles concert points out that the Cavern was recreated 50ft away using the same bricks.
Also in Mathew Street is Wade Smith, Liverpool's trendiest shopping experience - three floors of designer finery, Burberry purses for £99, Prada and Gucci for several hundred pounds, Punk Royal and Fake London.
Wade Smith made its name selling outrageously trendy trainers. Apparently, Liverpool sells more trainers per head than anywhere else in Britain.
That's the sort of meaningless lifestyle statistic that makes sense only when you go there and realise that cutting-edge trainers (Puma and Adidas yohji Y3 are doing very well this year) are the only way to keep up with the city's relentless pace.
A few years ago Albert Dock used to be the epicentre of Liverpool glamour, all listed warehouses, the Tate Modern and Richard and Judy - but people think it's a bit touristy these days, too much Beatles memorabilia for the purist.
Bold Street has a caffeine-fuelled vibe, with the Soul Cafe, Utility home accessories and the new Fact Centre, a brooding, black cuboid showing live webcasts and foreign films with subtitles.
Nearby is Concert Square, a four-cornered drinking experience, part theatre, part earthy social swirl, while Slater Street is pumping out karaoke classics by early afternoon.
Travel guide: England
The beating art of Liverpool
Home of The Beatles, Gerry and the Pacemakers, Cilla Black, The Searchers, Billy J. Kramer, The Lightning Seeds, Atomic Kitten...
In the second half of the 20th Century, Liverpool produced so many chart-topping musicians that it has long been a place of pilgrimage for pop fans.
But at the start of the 21st Century, the city has leapt forward as a major centre of art.
With more than 30 galleries and museums - most of them free - it has more art venues than any other British city outside London, with the added bonus of many being a short walk apart.
And with a new exhibition, The Art Of Paul McCartney at the Walker Gallery (May 24 to August 4), comes the opportunity not only to see another side of the multi-talented ex-Beatle but also to explore more of Liverpool's art scene.
Only a minute's walk from Lime Street station, the Walker, recently reopened after a £4.3 million revamp, is the perfect place to start.
The first comprehensive exhibition in Britain of Sir Paul's paintings, sculptures and photographs comprises 70 works, many of which have never been seen.
McCartney took up painting in the Eighties after meeting Dutch-American abstract expressionist Willem de Kooning.
The varied works on show, created over the past 12 years, are big, bold and colourful and include Home Territory, showing the streets around his childhood home, and Yellow Linda With Piano.
Paul got to know the gallery in the days before he became too famous to go out in public.
He recalled: 'John and I spent many a pleasant afternoon wandering around the Walker when we were young, so going back to the Pool with my paintings will complete some kind of circle for me.'
Travel guide: England
Going home to Liverpool
From the Mail on Sunday
As I was leaving Liverpool in 1960, The Beatles were playing Hamburg. Think about the pain of that coincidence. At 14 I was forced to spend my teenage years in a small West Country town, while the city of my birth exploded and the Cavern Club became the centre of the universe.
I could enthral groups of Wiltshire schoolgirls with the (true) story that my glamorous second cousin had briefly dated Ringo before he became a Beatle, but I was doomed to feel I'd missed out.
Over the years I went back from time to time, for a wedding, an article, a TV programme - but once the Mersey Sound faded, Liverpool was depressing. It looked deprived: the stars had moved on and the old town echoed with memories.
The Cavern was demolished. The city centre had the air of a down-at-heel old floozie who has lost the raddled charms she once possessed, and remains unloved. Although proud of my heritage (once a Liverpudlian, you always feel different), I had little desire for further visits. As Liverpool's reputation plummeted through suicidal trade union practices and a cynical, corrupt Labour council, I sometimes wanted to disown the place.
So to return as a tourist, to embark on a personal tour to discover how the city has changed, was an irresistible idea. I didn't bargain for the sheer sparkle and buzz of the new Liverpool. Granted, there are appalling economic problems it would be insensitive to forget. But it would be equally wrong to deny the good things the city has to offer residents and visitors alike.
I can't think of any place in England where you can spend a more richly enjoyable winter weekend. Believe me, the friendliness and jokiness of Liverpool people is not just a myth. I remember a 'lorra laffs' from my childhood, when bus conductors chaffed with cheeky factory girls and everybody had a gag to tell. This ebullient good humour gives the city its particular personality.
Due perhaps to accidents of geography (the great port a melting pot for so many different cultures) and history (humour in the face of hardship) it adds as much to a Liverpool holiday as the famous clubs like 'Cream' and the bars that make the place a paradise for the young.
Travel guide: England
Legoland - building on success
The view as you approach Legoland in Windsor could be more impressive. Windsor Castle dominates the horizon, giving a grand anticipation of what's to come.
By the end of the day you expect the Queen's residence to be made of Lego bricks blended with the countryside.
Legoland opened for the 2002 season last weekend, in common with many other UK attractions and theme parks.
As you'd expect, the park is a tribute to Lego - the bricks are everywhere, from the road, to the entrance, to even the logos on the clothes in the shops.
More than 46 million bricks have been used in the park, of which two-thirds are in Miniland - a recreation of scenes from Europe. It doesn't have rides or things to do, but it's a great area to be quiet and just marvel at the models.
The park is divided into various lands in the theme park-style, but despite a key to rides in the map, it's not clear which lands are for which age groups.
The park is aimed at two to 12-year-olds and a lot of thought has gone into making sure all ages are catered for: from tots play areas to roller coasters to brick building areas with an educational bias.
Travel guide: England
Our fashionable friends in the North
From the Mail on Sunday
You should never disparage whole towns. I learned that the hard way when I offered up a passing put-down about Harwich - 'nothing need detain you long' sort of thing - and made the front page of the East Essex Courier for 'slamming' the gem of the marshes.
The mayor and the local MP barged each other out of the way to point out the excellent facilities for the disabled and I was burned in effigy in the open cast mine that passes as a high street.
So let me say straight away that the very idea of going to Leeds excited me enormously. Hugely. I even knew where it was.
Leeds also happens to have a reputation as the most happening city of the North. Even Harvey Nichols now has a branch there.
I am to be in Leeds for six weeks in Horse And Carriage, a Feydeau farce, at the West Yorkshire Playhouse, so the editor wanted to know: 'Is it really a happening town? Has it already happened? Is there more to happen or did we miss it?'
My suite at the hotel, 42 The Calls, was a luxurious hidey-hole. It had a huge loft for sitting in and another for the bedroom. Our delicious room service meal was served to us through a hidden hatch, which later opened to a free packet of Smarties. It all made it extremely difficult to tear ourselves away to see what else was happening.
What of the city's legendary night life? I hired two native guides, called Nick and Kevin, from the Playhouse.
Down in the valley, the Tetley brewery is moored up by the canal - a great ship of beer permanently emitting steam from its four mighty funnels.
On an ordinary Thursday night, the lads and lasses were scurrying from bar to bar in the windy streets with no clothes on (well, maybe a dishcloth or two).
But what bars! What hostelries! What flamboyant old proper pubs, too!
'Well, Leeds is the home of Carlsberg,' said Kevin proudly, somewhat ignoring the prior claims of Copenhagen.
Travel guide: England
The arts of William Morris
As locations for National Trust properties go, it's a most unlikely one. Surrounded by bungalows and just a few miles from London's South Circular Road, the Red House is an architectural oddity.
This extraordinary building in Bexleyheath, Kent, was once the home of the pioneering Victorian designer William Morris. It was here that the Arts and Crafts movement was born. Within a generation, millions of homeowners throughout Britain would be copying Morris's unique style.
William Morris decided to build his extraordinary-home in 1858 with the help of architect Philip Webb.
Out went the exterior stucco so beloved by London's builders. And, instead of having ornate marble fireplaces, Morris insisted on them being made from plain, unfashionable orange-red Kentish brick. Even more bizarre for the period was his idea of having huge windows, so that light would stream into his home.
'It was totally revolutionary in its day,' says Fliss Coombs of the National Trust, which has recently acquired the house.
Morris, then just 26, planned his house on a grand scale, with massive chimney stacks and a great tiled roof, broken by gables, turrets and ridges.
No sooner was the construction work finished, in 1860, than the weekend house parties began. Regular guests included Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Lizzie Siddall, the Burne-Joneses and other Pre-Raphaelite artists.
Morris struggled to buy furniture for his house but could find nothing that matched his style. Everything - from cupboards to glasses - had to be hand-designed.
Morris and his friends did much of the work. Morris designed the furniture, Burne-Jones and Rossetti painted tiles and glass, while Morris's wife Janey embroidered wall hangings.
Some of their efforts have only recently come to light. When a bedroom wall cupboard was removed, it revealed a mural painted by Lizzie Siddall.
Morris's manufacturing and decorating company, known affectionately as 'The Firm', was established soon after the construction of the Red House. It changed the way people viewed their houses.
Travel guide: England
Home fit for a hero
How far would you be prepared to go . . . to a spot set amid breathtaking beauty where one of the world's greatest men sat and dreamed, found the courage to fight demons and change the path of history? As far as Kent?
Chartwell was the home created by Winston Churchill, a place he so loved that when his car drew up he would leap out with joy, scattering travel rugs and papers around him.
It was the place where a dejected and sometimes humiliated Churchill came to brood and replenish his spirit. It was here where he first heard that war had broken out, where heroes came to dine and the Soviet spy Guy Burgess came to conspire.
Its visitors' book bears names such as Charlie Chaplin, Lawrence of Arabia, Albert Einstein and the late Queen Mother.
Yet Chartwell had such an unpromising start. When Churchill discovered the house it was dark and damp, a gloomy Victorian remnant that had been abandoned to briars and nettles.
But it is set on a hill overlooking the most spectacular sweep of Kentish woodland that even now remains unspoilt and seems to lead the eye across half of England.
Churchill first saw it shortly after the end of the First World War and was immediately captivated by the view. He desired what he saw in the way some of his colleagues desired other men's wives. It was to cause him almost as much trouble.
Wisely he told his wife, Clementine, nothing about his madcap idea to purchase the house until after the deed was done. He assumed she would be horrified. He was right.
Resurrecting the house and turning it into a family home would take far more time and money than Churchill had, but he was never a man to care much that he was on the point of going broke.
He bought it in 1922 for £5,000, spent another £20,000 on it (a legendary sum in those days) and had the audacity to praise his purchase to Clemmie on the grounds that after this investment the house would be worth, well, at least £15,000.
Travel guide: England
On the Wight, the best footpaths in England
From the Mail on Sunday
Just opposite Carisbrooke Castle, in the dead centre of the Isle of Wight, a path leads you out of the 20th century. Dark Lane, deep and mysterious under high, fern-lined banks and overarching trees, is the British landscape's equivalent of Dr Who's Tardis time machine.
What would we meet at the other end? Queen Victoria in her carriage out for a drive? A bearded, black-hatted Alfred Lord Tennyson on one of his walks?
After half a mile we emerged into the sunlight. It wasn't the past at all, but an optimistic future for the walker where there are footpaths everywhere, with helpful signs, sturdy stiles and a nice firm surface underfoot.
The Isle of Wight is a popular destination already. Its insular charms make it one of Britain's most distinct and different places. Now it has something more - the best footpaths in Britain.
A recent national survey found one in five of our footpaths blocked. You have only a one in two chance of finishing a two-mile walk without running into some kind of obstruction.
But not on the Isle of Wight. The Countryside Commission gave the local authority an award for being the first to get its 514-mile network of footpaths 'recorded, protected, maintained and promoted' ahead of the Millennium target to bring all the country's paths up to scratch.
Using the Ordnance Survey 1:25,000 map, we knew exactly where we were going. All the paths had numbers. Many also had names; ours had two. Dark Lane was part of Shepherds' Trail. We could have followed ghostly men in smocks driving spectral flocks of sheep the 12 miles down to the coast.
Travel guide: England
An island still fit for a Queen
From the Daily Mail
Will there be a time difference?' asked my 11-year-old daughter Alice as we glided out of Southampton on the ferry. 'Yes, 50 years,' quipped my friend Liz.
There was no need to adjust watches - we were only sailing to the Isle of Wight; two mums and daughters rediscovering a holiday destination.
Within an hour of docking, we were sitting in a timeless tea room, nibbling thinly-cut sandwiches in the company of immaculately-dressed old ladies. Alice and her friend, Kate, 11, sipped milkshakes, just as I did at their age.
This was what we had come for: an old fashioned weekend on an island that wallows in its afternoon-tea atmosphere. We began our tour in Godshill, one of the island's most photogenic villages.
A procession of thatched roofs and coffee houses leads you to Godshill Model Village. Opened in the Fifties, this gives a one-to-ten impression of the island, complete with its own model village and another model village within that.
The next day, we stepped a little further back in time at the glorious Osborne House. Queen Victoria invented tourism on the island when she built her favourite retreat on its north coast. Children love the pony-and-trap ride to the Swiss Cottage, a Wendy House fit for a whole nursery of princesses.
But they are equally dazzled by the interior of the house, with its numerous busts and portraits of the Queen, who died here 100 years ago.
Out in the gardens, which featured in the film Mrs Brown, a Victorian fair was in progress. Red-coated soldiers paraded around, claiming to be members of the Die Hard Company of the Victorian Military Society.
There was also a pig roast, a carousel and a little light Victorian entertainment. You could imagine Victoria taking a stroll, admiring the view of Cowes, inspecting a bayonet or two and then tucking into a pork sandwich.
On our last day, we headed for The Needles, the picturesque cutting edge of the island. At first, we were disappointed - on one side is a noisy pleasure park.
But we took a chairlift down to Alum Bay, where the cliff face has 20 bands of multi-coloured sand. It forms a stunning backdrop for the three jagged, white rocks projecting like shark's teeth from the water.
Suddenly, I realised I'd been there years before. As I watched the girls paddle in the freezing sea, it was reassuring to know some things never change.
Travel facts: Details from Red Funnel: 023 8033 3811.
Travel guide: England
Fish with everything
From the Mail on Sunday
We were 30ft underwater, admiring a golden trevally fish and a southern sting ray, when some of the world's most in-your-face dentures stole up out of nowhere.
'Duck!' shouted someone, instinctively but too late, as the 6ft sand tiger shark skimmed our heads.
If there hadn't been 6in of acrylic between us and it, we would have been, well, wet (these sharks are already well-fed).
For one of the best views of the ocean from inside, head for Hull and walk the underwater tunnel beneath Europe's largest fish tank within The Deep, the £45million tourist attraction.
The seafaring city is famous for landing cargoes from distant shores. But the vision for The Deep came from closer by, on a train journey from London in 1995 where council representatives Colin Brown and David Gemmell hatched a plan based around something Hull did rather well - fish.
There are already more than 20 aquaria in the UK. So this would have to be deeper, bigger, better. Something that didn't even have a name, so they gave it one - submarium.
Once the cash - including £21million from the Millennium Commission - was sorted out, the grand design took shape.
Architect Sir Terry Farrell, who did the M16 block featured in the latest Bond movie, created a building in the shape of a capital A on its side, clad in aluminium and black enamelled tiles, dead centre on the Hull waterfront and jutting out into the river Humber.
And that's where I found myself, four floors up, venturing out onto the point of the A for the best view in town. I felt like Leonardo di Caprio on the prow of the Titanic, but without Kate Winslet.
'We are one of the three biggest things on the river,' said Colin, gesturing to the other two - the Humber bridge and the Pride of Hull, one of the world's largest ferries.
Travel guide: England
Spa town with fizz
From the Daily Mail
This will really blow your socks off,' the museum attendant said as he handed me a glass of Harrogate's vile-tasting sulphur water, in the Royal Pump Room Museum. Then he sold me a £1 certificate to prove I had 'upon this partaken of the strongest water in England thereby ensuring a healthy constitution and freedom from wind'.
The prosperous Yorkshire town has been welcoming visitors since the 16th century. Many of its monuments to past splendours are used today. When the spa business dried up, Harrogate turned conferences and filling the 4,000 hotel beds with tourists weekends. Barely a week passes without a festival or fair celebrating the arts, crafts, antiques or gardens.
At 10am on the Saturday we visited, Harrogate was bursting. Outside the grand Royal Hall, coaches disgorged hordes of hatted ladies bound for the National Quilting and Stitching Festival.
This delightfully walkable town is skirted by hundreds of protected green acres, threaded with bright flower gardens and stately 19th-century terraces. Coasting down fashionable Parliament Street with its fine, cast-iron canopies, we passed numerous 'modom shops' selling not dresses but 'gowns' and £200 silk shoes to go with them.
For this is the hub of Yorkshire Posh. You can judge a place by its Oxfam Shop and this one offered a morning coat and trousers for £34, and a Jean Muir outfit for £9.95.
Travel guide: England
Meantime, back in Greenwich...
From the Daily Mail
The biggest and most famous Dome in Greenwich, if Sir Christopher Wren had had his way, would have been completed 300 years earlier than its infamous namesake. Initially refused permission for his design for St Paul's Cathedral, Wren wanted to use the same plans for the newly commissioned Seamen's Hospital.
In the end, however, he was turned down, because a big dome would have spoiled the view from the Queen's House, built by Inigo Jones 80 years earlier and lived in by King Charles I's wife, Henrietta Maria.
So instead of one big dome, Greenwich got three: a modern fiasco - and two masterpieces, flanking the river view of the Queen's House in an ensemble that since 1999 has been a Unesco World Heritage site and is London's best-kept secret tourist attraction.
Secret because from 1869, when the hospital closed and the Royal Naval College moved in, it became Ministry of Defence property, closed to the public until it moved out two years ago.
Not that Greenwich doesn't get its share of tourists. They come for the river ride, for the Cutty Sark tea clipper (fastest ship in the world in its day) and for the Gypsy Moth (the tiny vessel in which Sir Francis Chichester circumnavigated the globe).
They come for the Old Royal Observatory, with its exhibits from the days of Sir Edmond Halley (he of the comet) and John Harrison, whose years of labour to make the perfect navigational timepiece were celebrated in the best-selling book Longitude, and to straddle the hemispheres with one foot on either side of the Greenwich meridian.
Londoners come for the weekend market, sprawling from its covered 18th-century home into surrounding streets. Here, you can buy anything from antiques and custom-made clothes to French cheese, Italian olives, fresh-pressed English apple juice, Thai fishcakes, Chinese noodles and clotted cream fudge.
Travel guide: England
Exploring the Rebecca trail
From the Daily Mail
What do Bob Geldof, Paul Daniels and Cleo Laine have in common?
They all topped various bills at the Daphne du Maurier Festival in Fowey in May 2002.
Each year, this small Cornish town, perched on the River Fowey estuary, bursts into song, dance and chit-chat to celebrate the life and works of the novelist who fell in love with the place as a child, and lived there until her death in 1989.
The essence of Cornwall is distilled in Daphne's books, many of them inspired by the beauty of this ancient Cornish seaport, whose cottages, houses, inns and quaint shops jostle side by side in steep streets that tumble down to the harbour and the lovely River Fowey.
The old sea salts and smugglers' ships that fired Daphne's imagination are long gone, replaced by fishing boats, a ferry and hundreds of dinghies hired by families attracted to the town for its excellent sailing.
Scenes from du Maurier's books float before your eyes when you make the two-mile boat trip from Fowey Town Quay, past wharves where foreign ships load china clay.
You travel past posh yachts moored at Wideman's Point, and between bushy riverbanks where you can spot herons and swans.
Du Maurier would row herself across the river from Fowey to Bodinnick.
The house Ferryside by the landing slipway is where, in the Twenties, she wrote her first novel, The Loving Spirit, set among the local coves and cliffs with their woods and teeming wildlife.
It was from Ferryside that she set out by boat for her wedding at nearby Polruan's Lanteglos Church, an atmospheric 14th century shrine of great beauty.
And from here she used to visit Jamaica Inn, which inspired another of her bestsellers.
Travel guide: England
Ghost walking in Exeter
From the Daily Mail
Ancient and modern rub shoulders in a most exciting manner in Exeter. One minute you're nibbling radicchio with parmesan shavings in a stylish, state of the art brasserie, and the next you're gazing up at the medieval stone carvings on the cathedral's magnificent West Front.
Within five paces of the crowds and bustle of the main shopping drag, you're strolling along an Elizabethan alleyway and straight on to the lawns of the Cathedral Green.
Exeter, capital of Devon, is one of England's oldest, most compact cities. It is full of little corners, narrow streets, inviting doorways, ancient city walls, beautiful gardens and pretty parks. It has the lovely Northcott Theatre, a brilliant variety of fast-food and budget cafes, and award-winning Chef Michael Caines has just opened his wonderful new restaurant at the Royal Clarence.
It is a city where all attractions are within easy walking distance, including the historic quayside where you can hire punts and canoes or take boat trips down the winding River Exe.
On the quay are furniture workshops, antiques, a sweaty rave disco called The Hot House, and the Mud Dock Cafi, similar to an aircraft hangar. This ultra-cool hang-out has bicycles dangling from the rafters, pinball machines, trendy grub and screens playing extreme sports videos.
Travel guide: England
The Ribble is Hobbit forming
From the Mail on Sunday
Poring over my map of Middle Earth, I said: 'We leave Hobbiton by this road, head down to the Shirebourne River, follow it upstream to the Brandywine River and find the ferry that takes you across to the Old Forest.'
The children looked at me pityingly. Their map told them different: we were in a Lancashire village called Hurst Green, the rivers were the Ribble and the Hodder, and the ferry hadn't run for years.
They couldn't believe that the landscape of Tolkien's Lord Of The Rings trilogy, the first instalment of which is released as a film starring Ian McKellen this week, is copied from this corner of the Ribble Valley, in the misty, green Lancashire countryside near Clitheroe.
Or that you can trace the route that Frodo Baggins and chums take as they head across the Shire, through the Old Forest and on towards the Crack of Doom, carrying with them the Ruling Ring of Power, which they must destroy.
But you can. And I was going to prove it.
We had our maps spread out over a table in the bar of the Shireburn Arms. Why, even this pub has a place in the Lord Of The Rings. JRR Tolkien, who was partial to his beer, was a regular visitor in the Forties.
He came to visit his eldest son, John, who was studying for the priesthood at the Jesuit seminary at St Mary's Hall, now the prep school for Stonyhurst College.
The impressive approach to grand, grey, towered and turreted Stonyhurst begins at the edge of Hobbiton, or rather Hurst Green, and it would feature later in our walk.
Tolkien loved woods and walking, and he roamed all over the Ribble Valley. The places he visited, and their names, often found their way into The Lord Of The Rings.
So we finished our drinks and set off in his footsteps, crossing the field beside the pub, making for the wide, rippling, foam-flecked and fast-flowing Ribble.
Travel guide: England
We're on our way to
Football supporters, by the nature of supporting football, are travellers. We travel to a game each Saturday - at least we did until satellite TV started mucking around with match days which now can be any day of the week.
True fans follow their team, home and away, so they can travel thousands of miles every season, getting to know all the main roads or main stations plus the local pubs.
There is also what's called the 92 Club for the real fanatics, who set themselves the task of watching a game at every one of England's league grounds.
Now there's a new way, a new reason for football fans to go travelling - to make a tour of our football museums. They are scattered all over the country so a keen fan can organise his or her holiday plotting a route to take in them all.
At the moment there are seven proper football museums, with a designated curator and stuff arranged in a decent order, with proper times when the public can go and ogle. There are also many others which, at present, are basically trophy rooms which can be seen on special days by special guests.
Five of the public museums are club museums: at Arsenal, Manchester United, Liverpool, West Ham and Celtic. It's expected that five other clubs will have their own museums soon: Aston Villa, Everton, Newcastle, Chelsea and Spurs.
Arsenal's museum was opened in 1993 and boasts the biggest collection of one club's memorabilia in Britain. It tells the story of the club's foundation in 1886 when a group of munitions workers put their pennies together to buy a football and start a team.
You can see Alex James's shirt, as worn in the 1936 FA Cup Final, Charlie George's Golden Boot from the 1971 final, and the big red bus in which Arsenal's winning teams have paraded round Islington.
Manchester United's museum is bigger, newer, flashier and more expensive, as you might well expect. It attracts 200,000 a year, which at £8.50 a time for adults, for the museum and a tour, means they can make well over £1 million. It tells the club history from its foundation as Newton Heath by Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway workers, through its successes and tragedies, such as the Munich air crash. It's very high-tech and, unlike Arsenal's, it's open every day.
Travel guide: England
Aboard the iron lady
From the Mail on Sunday
She was sitting waiting for me, as promised, at Victoria. Eleven-thirty, platform two. She looked beautiful in green.
The sun shone through the station roof. She seemed pleased to see me for she went 'Toot' and emitted a puff of smoke.
The Cathedrals Express, vintage 1945, was getting up steam for her journey down through Kent to Canterbury.
There were trains in modern jazzy designs coming in and out of Victoria Station but it was the elegant, half-a-century-old, iron lady who attracted the attention.
Behind her, along the platform, the old, green carriages were strung out, filled with passengers expectantly sitting at tables with white cloths and bright cutlery.
Some were railway enthusiasts, never missing a chance to travel like this, others had never before been on a real coaled-up express. Noses wrinkled at the scent of the smoke.
The platform was knotted with people taking photographs or just gazing at this glimpse of the past. I was allowed to climb up into the cab - into a temperature well over a hundred, a big, red blaze snorting in the firebox.
'We used to cook our breakfast on that,' said Colin Kerswill, once an express driver, now in retirement, and travelling as a passenger. A stocky brown-faced man, he still misses the everyday thrill of the footplate.
'We would put the bacon and eggs, sausages, potatoes and tomatoes on a shovel and put them in the firebox. They were fried in no time. Beautiful.'
The engine was called Bodmin, otherwise No 21C116, built at Brighton in 1945 and half a million miles and, 20 years later, shunted into the scrapyard. She was rescued by railway dreamers and after 30,000 man-hours of restoration, here she was eager to take us to Canterbury via Voltaire Road Junction, Cambria Junction and Otford Junction and, by contrast, Ashford International.
Travel guide: England
Trees get back to their roots in Westonbirt
From the Daily Mail
'Westonbirt?' said the woman behind the counter at Boots when I went to collect my family snaps.'That's a great place to visit at this time of year. It's so beautiful when all the leaves change colour and it's magical when it snows, too'.
She was in a dream world, far away from the photo-processing department. Westonbirt in Gloucestershire has a magical effect on people. With Harry Potter mania and excitement over the forthcoming Lord of the Rings film, there's nowhere more fairytale-like than a forest - or, in this case, a carefully planted arboretum.
You can trample through the undergrowth, marvel at the canopy of leaves far above you or simply get lost in the enchantment of it all.
Our forest party included Nana and Grandad, Joe, seven, Alice, 11, and Frances, 14. As soon as they spilled out of the car, the children started to run rings around the adults, turning every straight line into a meandering adventure.
To visit Westonbirt in winter, you need a little basic equipment: a pair of wellies; an extra layer of warm clothing; perhaps a little change for the cafe or arboretum shop.
Of course, Westonbirt is much more than a wood: it's a tree collection. Originally planted by Captain Robert Holford in the 1830s, it is now the National Arboretum.
Stunning: Autumn scene
Travel guide: England
The house coming soon to a screen near you
Walking into Ham House triggers a strange feeling of deja vu. The handsome 17th Century property - a Jacobean stately home in the hands of The National Trust - sits in lush parkland next to the River Thames at Richmond.
What makes it so familiar? It could have something to do with the fact that it is one of London's most popular locations for film, TV and fashion shoots.
Period dramas are inevitably attracted to this distinguished property, but it plays its part in a much broader range of productions. Over the past couple of years everything from dog food commercials to Alistair McGowan's Big Impression - when it appeared as a creepy country pile in a Jonathan Creek spoof - have been filmed here.
Anne Partington-Omar, property manager of Ham House, receives several enquiries a week from location scouts, who like the house but find the generous amount of car parking space and the easy access to Central London 10 miles away just as alluring.
Ham House features in To Kill A King, a £15million Civil War movie starring Rupert Everett as King Charles and Tim Roth as Cromwell.
The film couldn't have had a more appropriate location than Ham House, which enjoyed its own Civil War drama.
Elizabeth Dysart, the daughter of the house's creator, William Murray, cleverly secured Ham House's future for her family by managing to maintain good relations with Cromwell yet secretly plotting the restoration of Charles II - even writing secret coded letters to the exiled court.
Ham House even boasts its own ghost - a phantom King Charles spaniel. Ms Partington-Omar says: 'Visitors complain that they've had to leave their dog in the car while they've met a spaniel happily wandering around the house. I have to tell them they've seen a ghost!'
There's plenty to see at Ham House including the dairy, featuring tables with supports shaped like cows' legs, a still house and a fine ice house which was filled during the winter with ice cut from the Thames.
Ms Partington-Omar says that the film business provides a real boost for The National Trust. She says: 'It's a double bonus. We receive the income from the film and TV companies who pay to use the houses as locations and we also benefit from the publicity they generate. It's a perfect arrangement.'
*Ham House, Ham, Richmond TW10 7RS (020 8940 1950). Open daily except Thursdays and Fridays from 1pm to 5pm until November 2. Admission: £7 per adult, £3.50 per child, £17.50 per family.
Travel guide: England
Take a tour of Buckingham Palace
From the Daily Mail
Buckingham Palace opens to the public in August for an eight-week summer season, and it's the closest most of us will ever get to a thoroughly good snoop behind the scenes of one of the most famous addresses in the world.
Last year, on a much-awaited visit, I overheard an Australian remark: 'It's the best thing Her Maj ever did.' For 2001 she's gone one better, allowing us a glimpse of the previously unseen royal gardens.
A visit to the Palace is still an event to savour. Since it first opened in 1993, more than 2.25 million people have trooped through the sumptuous State Rooms. But that's small beer compared with the 2.65 million who passed through the gates of Alton Towers in 2000 alone.
A visit to London's most famous residence is also an exercise in royal history as, contained in the glossy 64-page brochure (well worth the £4.50 cost), are some splendid pictures taken inside Palace walls.
For example, page 25 shows a black-and-white wedding photograph of the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh in the Throne Room.
This marvellous room has two thrones, made for the Coronation in 1953, generously stuffed with almost comfy-looking cushions.
A few rooms later, in the White Drawing Room, you can see the exact spot where the Queen and Duke posed for the colour photograph that marked their Golden Wedding.
Tours are self-guided and you should allow about two hours, as each State Room is a treasure trove of portraits, porcelain, furniture and various gilded and gold-plated ornaments.
Be prepared to get your fill of chandeliers along the way - some of these cut-glass edifices are so large they seem the size of the average suburban greenhouse. And they sparkle intensely.
Travel guide: England
Inns with staying power
From the Mail on Sunday
What makes a successful hotel? Conrad Hilton, founder of the Hilton chain, claimed three reasons: location, location and location. But the success story of a great hotel has a more complex and indefinable plot.
Staff are important: a good hotel can be ruined by poor service and cameo roles played by reception, bedroom and dining room staff can make or break your visit. Once a waiter at Hambleton Hall, Rutland, drove home to get his dinner jacket for my husband who had packed the wrong one. That episode endeared the place to us for life.
You're also looking for comfort, good food and a great atmosphere. Guests are more discerning than ever, but the danger is that many hotels fall into the trap of formulaic anonymity, however luxurious they may be.
What price gyms, spas, conference facilities, DVDs and modems in your room if all these places seem exactly the same? Herein lies the difference between a hotel that is merely good and one that's outstanding.
At the ones I like most it's invariably the stamp of a distinctive owner or manager that makes them special.
Not necessarily because they're particularly splendid or expensive (though some are) but because they are driven by the vision of a shrewd individual with an unusual imagination.
Of the hundreds of hotels I've stayed in three of my favourites in this country fall into this category.
THE INN AT WHITEWELL Forest of Bowland, near Clitheroe, Lancashire BB7 3AT Tel: 01200 448222
We took less than five minutes to book a stay at The Inn At Whitewell, when we stumbled upon it by chance and dropped in for a quick lunchtime snack.
After walking in the windswept countryside of the Forest of Bowland, nothing could have seemed more welcoming than the blazing fire in a comfortably furnished sitting room, gumboots drying around it and a black labrador toasting itself, groaning with pleasure.
But it was meeting owner Richard Bowman that clinched it. A tweedy country landowner type, his deceptively vague manner and the dry humour of his conversation convinced us we'd stumbled on a winner. When we returned for a three-day stay we weren't disappointed. Richard's character is in the best tradition of understated English eccentricity.
His father took on the hotel when he used to shoot in the area and wet his whistle in the bar. Richard took over 25 years ago and, not without difficulty, set about restoring the place.
The kitchen had to be redone after it fell off the side of the building into the River Hodder which runs alongside. Then he did the gents' loos after they crashed into the cellars.
He has superb taste and many of the 17 bedrooms with antique furnishings and peat fires overlook the river, the only concession to modern life are the state-of-the-art music systems in each.
Richard's obsession is antique plumbing and the bathrooms boast canopied baths with water jets and old French shower units with heads the size of dinner plates. You can sit on a thunderbox lavatory and watch the light play over the wild landscape.
The older and more distressed things look the better for Richard. 'I'm against snobbery and pomposity,' he says. Yet guests' comfort is paramount and while he describes his success as accidental, hotels do not enjoy an occupancy rate of more than 90 per cent and a string of awards by mistake.
Travel guide: England
Flower-spotting around England
Last Sunday, the narrow main street of Painswick, one of the prettiest towns in the Cotswolds, was clogged with traffic.
People were completing their annual pilgrimage in big tourist buses, smart people carriers and battered old jalopies - they even came on bikes.
Amazingly, what brings this earnest throng is the humble snowdrop.
The Rococo Garden in Painswick boasts what is reckoned to be the finest display in Britain.
You slip through an arched doorway to be greeted with the most extraordinary sight - carpets of snowdrops ('drifts' is the description in the guide - as in snowdrifts, I suppose).
It's a wonderful sign from nature that at last winter is on the wane and spring is just around the corner.
And Painswick's rite of spring is being repeated throughout the country.
This is our selection of some of the best early spring flower shows:
ROCOCO GARDENS, www.rococogarden.co.uk Painswick, Gloucestershire (tel: 01452 813204)
Open daily from 11am to 5pm. Admission: £3.60 adults, £3.30 senior citizens and £1.80 children. Banks of spring cyclamen greet you, and as well as the snowdrops there are swathes of wild daffodils. The beautiful 18th Century Red House is framed by the red winter colour of Cornus Alba.
GLENDURGAN, www.gardensincornwall.co.uk/glendurgan/ Mawnan Smith, near Falmouth (tel: 01326 250906)
Open Tuesday to Saturday from 10.30am to 5.30pm. Admission: £3.90 adult, £9.75 family. A valley garden created in the 1820s, with outstanding spring displays of camellias and magnolias, snowdrops, daffodils and scented rhododendrons. Don't miss the laurel maze, planted in 1833, if you have time to spare.
THE WEIR, Swainshill, Herefordshire (01981 590509).
Open Wednesday to Sunday inclusive from 11am to 6pm. Admission: £2.50 adult, £1 children. Set in cliffs fringing the River Wye, there are currently spectacular displays of daffodils, wild primroses and violets growing on the bank with blue chionodoxa and grape hyacinths.
KILLERTON, Broadclyst, Exeter (01392 881345).
Open daily from 10.30am to dusk. Admission: £3.70, family ticket £13. The grass slopes are carpeted with snowdrops and daffodils and with cyclamen in the chapel grounds. Rhododendrons, camellias and magnolias are also flowering.
OVERBECKS, Salcombe, Devon (tel: 01548 842893)
Open daily, dawn to dusk. Admission: £2.90. Spectacularly situated beside the Salcombe estuary, a series of enclosures and terraces are laid out with sub-tropical plants. Worth visiting just to see the 100-year-old magnolia campbellii and one of the largest acacias in England, with its yellow, scented flowers.
CASTLE DROGO, Drewsteignton, Exeter, Devon (tel: 01647 433306)
Open daily from 10.30am to dusk. Admission: £2.80 Situated on a rocky outcrop overlooking Dartmoor, it has a special rhododendron garden which is already a mass of colour. Also carpets of narcissus, crocus and cyclamen.
TRENGWAINTON, near Penzance (tel: 01736 362297)
Open Sunday to Thursday, 10am to 5.30pm. Admission: £3.90 adult, £9.75 family. Due to its sheltered position and the area's mild climate, Trengwainton is a showcase for early rhododendrons and camellias. Superb views across to St Michael's Mount and the Lizard.
COTEHELE, St Dominick, near Saltash (tel: 01579 351346)
Open daily, 10.30am to dusk. Admission: £3.40 adult, £8.50 family. Banks of daffodils and carpets of crocus complement the granite and slatestone walls of the 15th Century house on the slopes of the River Tamar.
Travel guide: England
Cumbrian treasures
From the Mail on Sunday
Tony has been among us. Here in west Cumbria we were all very excited by the presence of the Prime Minister, his wife Cherie, baby Leo and daughter Kathryn, enjoying a short holiday.
It was a private visit, but Mr Blair did a few official things, putting himself around. After all, it is the first time in 40 years that west Cumbria has had a visit from a Prime Minister.
Although we did once have a US President-to-be - Bill Clinton, who proposed to Hillary while in west Cumbria.
They had finished law school and were touring England. I checked this out personally with Hillary a couple of years ago.
She confirmed it happened at Ennerdale, but couldn't remember where they stayed. I didn't ask her what precisely Bill proposed.
The PM flew into Carlisle airport, a big event in itself as Carlisle airport doesn't get many planes.
Mr Blair's first job was to open a new unit at a factory in Wigton, a small town near Carlisle, known as the home of Melvyn Bragg and also for its smell.
No connection of course. It was the cellophane they made which caused a pong if the wind was blowing the wrong way.
On his arrival at this factory, owned by UCH, the PM was met by a gaggle of hunt demonstrators, some pro, some anti.
It will be a shame if the rest of the nation is thinking that the PM's visit was something to do with hunting.
Travel guide: England
Autumn on the water
Last year, I spent four months travelling the inland waterways, discovering a back door to an England I'd thought no longer existed.
Pottering at three miles per hour through more than 600 lock gates turned me into an narrowboating evangelical - no hold-ups or queues. Sailing the first modern national navigation network, I rediscovered the joy of travel.
But how easy is it for beginners? Your hire-boat operator shows you the ropes, takes you through the first lock, and then you're on your own.
With gorgeous waterside pubs, glorious walks and pretty villages doing their best to delay you, you'll probably cover no more than 12-16 miles a day - but who's counting?
You'll return to work more refreshed than if you'd spent a week in the Caribbean.
Here are 10 plums on the English inland waterway network: five one-week itineraries and five for a long weekend to spare.
You return the same way to your base unless otherwise stated. Weekend routes often require a Friday afternoon start and can be undertaken as short breaks in the week (most hire operators charge the same for a three-day weekend as for four midweek days).
All prices are for a narrowboat, with a minimum of four berths, taken out in October.
Paul Gogarty is the author of Water Road - A Narrowboat Odyssey Through England (Robson Books £17.95).
Travel guide: England
The world of Harry Potter
From the Mail on Sunday
How does a Muggle enter the magical world of Harry Potter?
Well, you could try what Harry himself does in the new movie, and go to King's Cross station, stand between the ticket barriers for Platforms 9 and 10, step well back, and take a run-up at a point exactly between the two.
Now, if you are a wizard, instead of braining yourself, you will slip through on to Platform 93/ 4, from which departs the steam train for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
For a Muggle - and, of course, Harry Potter fans will know this means a non-magical human - it has to be said that the chances of success might be slightly lessened.
So, for those of a nervous disposition, here is a guaranteed, painfree way to break into the world of Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone. You can catch up with his train a little further north and travel through the Forbidden Forest to the village of Hogsmeade, where Harry alights for Hogwarts.
I should make it clear that you are not going to find these magical names on a Muggle Ordnance Survey map. So, to translate, you should go to Pickering and pick up a steam train on the North York Moors Railway.
You might imagine that the fantastical land J. K. Rowling creates for her young hero could not possibly exist in the real world, that it could be recreated only in a film studio, and with lavish special effects.
But almost all of the locations in Warner Brothers' blockbuster film Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone exist and most welcome visitors.
Warner Brothers would rather you didn't visit. Their view is that to dwell on the real locations for the film is to risk destroying its magic and they swore those involved in the filming to secrecy.
Travel guide: England
England's cycling country
The East of England has been seeking official recognition as England's Cycling Country for five years.
Its six counties - Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, Hertfordshire, Cambridgeshire and Bedfordshire - are criss-crossed by 25 themed Cycling Discovery Routes, all of which can be done in a day.
Norfolk, the least populated of the counties, is virtually pancake-flat and perfect for gentle, easy rides.
Its four Cycling Discovery Maps show routes from 20 to 29 miles long, with interesting stops along the way.
Cycling the shortest - The Brecks, from Swaffham - you whizz effortlessly along smooth roads, past fields of pungent yellow rapeseed, twisted Scots pines and farms, glorious in the sunshine.
Cars are few and villages quiet. The EcoTech Centre's windmill and Iceni Iron Age village dot the landscape.
Beautiful, 15th-century moated manor house Oxburgh Hall, Oxburgh, is an essential stop on a Brecks cycle tour.
Intricate tapestry wall-hangings stitched by Mary Queen of Scots are displayed there, as is the bed of King Henry VII, father of Henry VIII.
Still home to the Bedingfeld family, it's run by the National Trust. For lunch, Danes Head pub in Beachamwell has hearty, home-cooked English food.
Cyclists after a challenge should not rule out Norfolk. Thetford Forest's tricky, highly technical "black" route is for advanced mountain bikers only. National Cycle Network 13 links Thetford, Fakenham, Watton and Dereham. Website www.breckland.gov.uk has more.
Travel guide: England
Hideaways to set hearts fluttering
Love will, of course, find a way - Romeo and Juliet on a balcony, Heathcliffe and Cathy on the moors, Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet on the Titanic.
But why make things difficult? Why not a meeting place that's breathing romance before either of you has taken your topcoat off?
There are such places in Britain, here is a small selection.
AT THE SIGN OF THE ANGEL
Lacock, Wiltshire. Tel: 01249 730230, www.lacock.co.uk
The fireplaces in the three cosy dining rooms are magnificent; burning brightly, stacked either side with logs and big enough to roast an ox in.
The atmosphere in this 15th-century wool merchant's house is so powerful that tables set with crystal and silver look wrong - pewter tankards and platters seem more appropriate.
Narrow stairs, low doors concealed in age-dark panelling, squeaky floors, bulging walls, bedrooms with latched doors - keys are far too modern - and a resident ghost make for a break that is out of time.
Fortunately the bedrooms - six in the house, four in the garden cottage - are en suite and the food, high-quality English traditional, is well up to the standard of the silver, crystal and candelabra.
Scenes from costume dramas such as Pride and Prejudice and Emma were filmed in near-perfect Lacock.
This year it's Harry Potter in the Abbey cloisters rather than Colin Firth in the High Street.
Travel guide: England
Our best beach hotels
From the Daily Mail
A 'beach', to me, is a place where the water, be it sea or lake, meets the shore; as long as one can get to it and enjoy it, it is a beach.
A bucket and spade come in handy, but so can a crab-line, a dinghy, thick-soled footwear or a wine glass.
People are happy wherever there is water, so my selection of beach hotels from our book on British hotels is a bit unorthodox - but it offers something for everyone.
I try, as I write, to untangle myself from the memory of my perfect 'beach hotel'. It was a house in north-west Crete, alone on a white beach that stretched beyond sight.
There I spent some of my happiest days, sleeping beneath the gaze of a gargantuan retsina barrel. The owners cared for me like grandparents. Its simplicity, with the beauty of the beach, seduced me utterly.
It is easy to be seduced, too, by the Priory Bay Hotel on the Isle of Wight. Medieval monks thought it was special. So did Tudor farmers and Georgian gentry, who helped sculpt this landscape into a rural heaven.
From the main house and tithe barns the parkland rolls down to a ridge of trees and drops to long clean sands and a shallow sea.
It is all owned by the hotel and is as Mediterranean as you can find in the UK. There's a summer beach cafe, boats for hire, and fishermen land their catch here. You may even tire of fresh mackerel for breakfast.
The hotel has huge rooms that fuse classical French with contemporary English styles. The furniture is exquisite and the rooms are luxurious.
Some have oak panelling, some have fresh modern colours, one has a crow's nest balcony and telescope. In the grounds are red squirrels, peregrine falcons and badgers, and much of the hotel's food is home- grown. It is worth every minute of the ferry crossing.
Travel guide: England
Poole Britannia!
The well-groomed thirtysomething couple intently scanning the estate agent's window looked disappointed. It is difficult for most people to find a home in a town where a two-bedroom seaside flat can cost more than £1million.
'Too expensive?' I venture. 'Too small,' says the man. 'We're from New York and we're looking for something more spacious. Tell me, is the weather around here always as good as this?'
Quite how Poole in Dorset has become Britain's New Cool in the sizzling summer of 2003 is a bit of a mystery. But cool it is, with beachside property prices in exclusive Sandbanks said to be the fourth highest in the world, behind Mayfair, Manhattan and Tokyo.
Poole has long been famous as a centre for yachting, watersports and traditional bucket-and-spade holidays.
It's best known for having the world's second largest natural harbour, as well as making million-pound Sunseeker motor yachts, Poole pottery and Ryvita biscuits.
But its recent elevation to international celebrity status has resulted in new hotels as well as a profusion of smart new restaurants and chic waterfront bars.
Getting there: By car: 108 miles from London; 166 miles from Birmingham; 71 miles from Bristol.
By rail: Two hours from Waterloo.
By air: Bournemouth International Airport is six miles away. A daily Ryanair flight departs Glasgow Prestwick.
Where to stay: Gold: Harbour Heights (01202 707272) on the hill above Sandbanks has recently reopened as a four-star hotel after a change of ownership and a makeover in a modern, minimalist style. Most of the 38 bedrooms have views of Poole Harbour.
Silver: The Mansion House (01202 685666) is a Georgian building converted into a comfortable three-star, and is a two-minute walk from The Quay. Rooms are decorated in country house style with antiques and fine period paintings.
The restaurant regularly wins AA and RAC dining awards.
Bronze: Sandbanks Hotel (01202 707377) belongs to the same group as Harbour Heights and the equally ritzy Haven Hotel. Its position on Sandbanks Beach makes it a family favourite.
It has a heated swimming pool and a dedicated children's restaurant.
B&B: Individual Touristik Poole (tel: 01202 673419) may seem a strange name for a guesthouse, but friendly German owner Renate Wadham believes it helps attract overseas visitors.
The house is on the edge of Hamworthy Park and Beach.
Travel guide: England
Lashings of ginger beer and fun in Blyton's Dorset
Blytonia, that land of thatched cottages, rolling fields, crumbling castles and cheery-faced policemen on bicycles is largely a land of the imagination.
The characters, plots and locations of Enid Blyton's adventures revealed themselves to her, she said, as if projected on a screen in her mind. All she was required to do was to describe the action as it unfolded.
But her imagination was nurtured by her regular visits to Dorset, as Blyton's daughter, Gillian Baverstock, who first holidayed in Swanage with her mother in the spring of 1941, reveals.
Whispering Island in Five Have A Mystery To Solve (1962) was modelled on Brownsea Island in Poole Harbour, she says. ('Yes, the island is real, and lies in the great harbour, still full of whispering trees,' Blyton wrote in a note fronting the book).
Manor Farm in Stourton Caundle, near Dorchester, which Blyton bought in the late Fifties, inspired Five Go To Finniston Farm (1960) and the heathland of Five Go To Mystery Moor (1954) was drawn from Hartland Moor near Corfe.
'A lot of the natural life that Mother described in these books is very much Dorset,' says Mrs Baverstock. 'It's the birds, the gorse, the heather.'
It is believed that Blyton first visited the area with a trip to Corfe Castle in 1931. She revisited it 10 years later with her daughter who remembers: 'We climbed up the hill and sat in the castle, where we saw brambles growing through the flags of the courtyard and heard jackdaws calling.'
The following year Blyton published Five On A Treasure Island, the first of the 21 Famous Five books. In it Julian, Dick, Anne, George and Timmy the dog discover gold ingots in the dungeon of the ruined castle on Kirrin Island.
Her description of Kirrin Castle is clearly based on Corfe: 'On a low hill rose the ruined castle. It had been built of big white stones. Broken archways, tumbledown towers, ruined walls - that was all there was left of a once beautiful castle, proud and strong. Now the jackdaws nested in it.'
My visit to Blyton's Dorset coincided with the first Enid Blyton Day at Corfe Castle, taking place to commemorate 60 years of the Famous Five.
Travel guide: England
Fossils, fish and Fowles
My catch bore little relation to the basket of fresh prawns on display at the harbour seafood stall.
Although I had only minutes earlier fished it from a salty pool on Monmouth beach at Lyme Regis, it was already past its sell-by date - by 160 million years.
Fossils, in my case an ammonite from the Jurassic period, are simply waiting to be gathered at this quaint Dorset seaside resort.
Finding these jewels requires little skill, just eagle eyes and a bit of luck. Fragments of fossilised rock are washed from the crumbling cliffs.
Lyme Regis - on the Dorset and Devon Jurassic Coast, which two years ago became Britain's first World Heritage Site - remains the quintessential British seaside resort, surprisingly unchanged.
Once an important port and fashionable watering hole, it reclaimed its fame through local author John Fowles, who based part of The French Lieutenant's Woman here.
The cluster of Georgian houses and fisherman's cottages tumble down a steep hill and hide behind the Cobb, the man-made harbour wall, which protects it from westerly storms.
Lyme Regis has made few concessions to the demands of mass tourism, with only a handful of hotels to supplement the B&Bs and self-catering cottages.
How to get there: By road: 156 miles from London, 153 miles from Birmingham, 75 miles from Bristol. By rail: nearest station is Axminster, on the Waterloo to Exeter line.
Travel guide: England
All Manor of delights
From the Mail on Sunday
There are a number of enchanting things about Moonfleet. One of them is the long drive towards the hotel through rural Dorset to the coast.
As you skirt Weymouth to the east and get closer to the hotel, the roads get smaller until you are finally skimming down the narrowest of lanes only wide enough to hold one car.
The day we arrived, the sun was blistering and the tunnel of green we were driving through turned a wild emerald. That sun would stay with us for the week and, after blue skies that lasted all day, we would spend dreamy time watching spectacular sunsets.
As you turn into the drive, ahead of you is a Georgian gem.
On first sight, the Moonfleet Manor Hotel is reassuringly small - the size of a slightly grand country house. What greets you as you emerge from the gloom of the interior is a blaze of blue ocean and that very particular kind of lush green which is so much a part of an English summer.
Moonfleet overlooks a strip of water called the Fleet. The Fleet lies between the massive drift of shingle that is Chesil Beach and the shore. Beyond Chesil Beach lies France.
I was there for a short week with my son. Daddy is a travelling man and he had packed us off, me given a map and his son supplied with four pairs of batteries. These last would come in handy.
Mummy began to relax to the point of torpor, but luckily the Game Boy kept firing on all cylinders and my son hardly noticed. Plus, there were many other children.
Which? Hotel Guide has put Moonfleet among the top three family-friendly establishments in Britain. The guide highlighted Moonfleet's facilities, food and location.
I am sure there were people at Moonfleet who did not have children but I didn't see them. It is a child-friendly zone end-to-end and because of that you can watch the grown-ups visibly relax as the kids play. For the working mum with a child in tow it's ideal.
Travel guide: England
All aboard for a stream of delights
From the Daily Mail
Nine-year-old Ellie isn't quite Nancy Blackett of Swallows And Amazons. But she knows the ropes and can steer a safe course on a busy little river. Six-year-old Maddy is now an expert on the carrying capabilities of tiny ponies and, as for Loulou, four, she has learned that if you walk sideways like a crab you stand a good chance of falling off the jetty.
No family holiday in Dittisham, South Devon, is complete without placing a bit of prime bacon on a crab line. Crabs of various shapes, colours and sizes crowd around to be caught.
Beyond Tor Bay, the palm trees and grand hotels peter out around Paignton and Brixham. The unbridged valley of the intricate River Dart protects narrow lanes and secluded inlets from the holiday hordes. It's an extra hour or so down the road from Exeter, or at least an hour waiting in the summer queue for either of the car ferries to Dartmouth.
One of the best ways to enjoy the area is to rent one of the country barn-style wooden houses springing up on farms. As we relished a leisurely breakfast, the wide view from our kitchen included Blackness Rock, a deceitful pile of stones which revealed itself only at low tide, diverting scudding yachts and motor boats.
With boats for hire within walking distance and a regular boat up the river to Totnes or downstream to Dartmouth, there's no need for a car. Crossing the river is simple: Ellie tolled the big brass bell at the bottom of the main street and boatman Frank came over for us.
The opposite bank offers a panoramic view of the old houses on Dittisham quay and the chance to visit Agatha Christie's former home, Greenway, now owned by her daughter and son-in-law. The house and gardens are open on only two days a year, but you can always visit the garden centre.
Larger villages have surrendered their shops but Dittisham's is thriving - not least on sales of bacon to tempt crabs with. Those who have left cars behind can enjoy as much conviviality and real ale as they like in the village's two lively pubs.
Travel guide: England
Nothing Fawlty with farm break
From the Daily Mail
Why on earth would anyone take a family holiday in Britain? This country has serious image problems among its own people, with gripes about Fawlty-esque hoteliers, rip-off accommodation and bad food.
And when foot-and-mouth struck, so did paranoia about going within 500 yards of a muddy track, let alone a cow or sheep.
Nevertheless, we - myself, my wife Marguerite, and two young boys, Rory, two, and Joe, four months - chose a self-catering complex of barns in South Devon. Wheeldon Farm, set in the rolling South Hams, falls in the parish of Diptford, some seven miles north of the popular seaside town of Salcombe. The 240-acre, family-run dairy farm opened the small complex this summer.
There are four well-equipped barns within the complex, which includes an indoor swimming pool, a games room and a neighbouring field with trampoline and assault course. Wheeldon is a working farm, so visitors can watch the morning or afternoon milking.
The 'three beaches' of Bigbury-on-Sea, Blackpool Sands and East Portlemouth are heavily advertised to visitors.
Bigbury has the added attraction of Burgh Island. During low tide, it is possible to walk the quarter-of-a-mile across the sand to the island, home to the upmarket Burgh Island Hotel. At high tide, a tractor and trailer takes trippers to and fro.
Blackpool Sands, a sweeping golden cove near Dartmouth, offers good swimming, sea kayaks for hire and beach fishing. The beach is pebbly, so bring suitable footwear.
The beach at East Portlemouth can be reached by car along the estuary road. However, parking is difficult, so most trippers take the short ferry hop from Salcombe across the estuary. At low tide, a wide and clean sandy beach opens up with rock pools teeming with crabs.
Salcombe is one of those quaint seaside towns with narrow streets but it has suffered from an influx of second-homers in search of the good life.
However, there is still plenty of evidence of its fishing history and expertise. It is worth hunting out Dockwood, a workshop and store that sells furniture constructed from wood reclaimed from beach pontoons. Inland, Buckfast Abbey is a sort of venerable theme park for the religiously inclined. Visitors can celebrate mass with the Benedictine monks in the abbey building, completed in 1938.
The shop sells unusual fare, ranging from medical remedies to artwork created by monks and nuns from across Europe. The abbey's own honey proved to be a popular choice among visitors.
Paignton Zoo, which styles itself as an 'environmental park', successfully marries the natural local woodland with the thrill of the exotic. Within its hilly trails are fascinating enclosures housing small collections of animals.
We were sorry to leave the farm, but congratulated ourselves over our decision to follow in Tony Blair's footsteps and holiday in Britain.
TRAVEL FACTS:
Details on Wheeldon from Farm Toad Hall Cottages: 01548 853 089.
Travel guide: England
Forget the Med - it's heaven in Devon
From a secluded spot near the rocks, a curtain of woodland behind me, I looked out across a quarter of a mile of sands to a clear blue sea flecked with sailing boats. It could have been Portugal or Corsica. In fact, I was in South Devon.
I had only grudgingly accepted an affordable family holiday. But Devon was a revelation - proof that English resorts can compete with the best in Europe, even if you have to pack twice as many clothes and half as much sunscreen.
To the Rough Guide crowd, Devon is typical chocolate-box Britain - gentrified villages packed with retirees and urban refugees.
Yet from the wild, rocky cliffs of the north coast, through the moors and valleys of Dartmoor to the whitewashed fishing villages of the south, Devon boasts landscapes to satisfy everyone. But best of all it has some of the most glorious beaches in the country.
Our plan was simple: two weeks, two locations - one in the north near the golden sands at Woolacombe and Croyde, one in the south close to the chic sailing resort of Salcombe.
Holidaying with another family did involve logistical problems: four adults and five children sharing three bedrooms and a bathroom in a cottage in the grounds of 18th Century Corffe Mansion in the wooded Taw Valley, near Barnstaple.
But with three-and-a-half acres of grounds including tennis courts, swings and a wooden fort along with - most important on rainy days - a fine indoor pool, we all managed.
Travel guide: England
A gin and frolic on the moor
From the Daily Mail
Dartmoor, in Devon, is England's last great wilderness and the best way to explore its 367 square miles is on horseback, trotting through the bracken and cantering over the springy turf.
The excellent Shilstone Rocks stud is a good place for pony trekkers. Near Widecombe-in-the-Moor, it provides hard hats, qualified escorts and gentle ponies. You can plod contentedly up to Buckland Beacon and watch the spectacular sunsets over the valley.
You can also see two weathered slabs of granite engraved with the Ten Commandments, put there in the early 1900s.
Up on the craggy tors, where hawks hover and the wind whistles through the gorse, you really feel miles from anywhere among the Neolithic stone circles, megaliths, wind-blasted trees and bogs. But when sudden mists descend you feel fairly spooked.
'Drive With Moor Care' is the local message. However, along the leafy lanes, the locals are a much worse hazard than the area's wildlife. I wish I could report that they are cheery folk, but no, they all seem to drive Range Rovers very fast and hog the roads.
I recovered at the Rugglestone Inn at Widecombe, in a lovely garden where I ate a home-made chicken pie and drank half a pint of cider.
For those on small budgets, I recommend Dartmoor Camping Barns. It's like camping without the elements. Offering simple accommodation for individuals or small groups, they cost £3.50 a night and are terrific.
Also, don't miss Rock Inn, tucked below the granite mass of Hay Tor.
Tor itself is a fabulous climb and you encounter lots of friendly bobble-hatted hikers at the top.
And for those who enjoy a little luxury, I recommend a night at Holne Chase Hotel. It's homely and dogs are welcome.
Owner Sebastian Hughes even dishes up a unique home-made sloe gin that should, perhaps, be covered by the Dangerous Substances Act.
Before eating next morning, I actually stripped down to my underwear and leapt into the foaming Dart for the hell of it. Blame it on the gin, the fresh air, or simply the call of the moor.
TRAVEL FACTS:
Holne Chase Hotel, Holne.Tel: 01364 631471. Stone Camping Barn, Holne:Tel: 01364 631544.
Travel guide: England
In a weirdness league of its own
From the Mail on Sunday
This is odd. It's a warm day but the wind is howling through Woodhead Tunnel, just off the A628 near Tintwistle in Derbyshire, and I'm freezing.
Local historian Glynis Greenman talks excitedly about the inexplicable lights people see zooming up the Longdendale Valley, the old lady who walked through the wall of the railwayman's cottage down below, the Roman legions marching into the hillside and these winds that can screech out of the tunnel and knock a man down.
Later, in the B&B, my wife isn't convinced. 'It's bound to be windy at the mouth of a tunnel,' she says, 'especially one as long as that.' I shake my head.
The Longdendale Valley is supposed to be one of the most haunted areas of Britain, and I'm not going to be put off.
Only 15 miles from Manchester, the valley stretches from Glossop to Woodhead.
Daniel Defoe called it 'perhaps the most desolate, wild and abandoned country in England'.
It's no wonder the surreal TV comedy series The League Of Gentlemen was filmed here.
I've come to look for ghosts and to lay a few spirits from the past. The last time I was here, 20 years ago, I was half of a folk/poetry duo called Jaws.
We were booked to perform in a pub whose landlord thought we were a heavy metal band.
The climax of the act was me playing 'Stranger On The Shore' on a plastic watering can. Glossop's heavy metal fans weren't amused, and showed it in interesting and inventive ways.
Travel guide: England
It's anniversary time in Dartmoor, my dear Watson...
From the Mail on Sunday
Dartmoor is celebrating its 50th birthday as a National Park this year. But the flags have really gone up for the news everyone has been waiting for. After months of closure because of foot-and-mouth, more than 90 per cent of the park has now been declared open.
And other anniversaries abound on southern England's last great wilderness; from the 100th of Conan Doyle's The Hound Of The Baskervilles to the 100th of a reborn institution.
Let's deal with Sherlock Holmes first. Don't be disturbed if you see Holmes, Dr Watson, the sinister Mr Stapleton and his striking 'sister', the terrifying convict or other characters from The Hound Of The Baskervilles lurking on Dartmoor during August. It's just a celebration.
In 1901, the first instalment of Conan Doyle's famous novel, set on mist-shrouded autumnal Dartmoor, was published. Since then, enthusiastic fans have searched the moor hoping to pinpoint the sites of the sinister happenings.
But ingenious Conan Doyle was a match for his readers. He mixed real with fictitious places, called his aristocratic hero after a coach driver and probably based his background on an infamous local family.
To mark the book's centenary, a group of deeply serious and committed fans, the creme de la creme of devotees, plans an August celebration. Dressed in costume, they will visit significant sites.
So, your eyes will not deceive you if you see Watson lurking round the ruined church of Buckfastleigh or Holmes walking into what is now the High Moorland Visitor Centre.
Built as a royal hunting lodge in Victoria's reign, then used as a prison officers' mess, it eventually became the privately owned Duchy Hotel where Conan Doyle stayed. the original site, including a vast medieval guest hall, has been reclaimed. Buckfast has become the most visited religious site in the country. The winning formula is simple. The monks follow the rule of St Benedict - daily prayer, work and study.
Travel facts Where to stay guide - self-catering to hotels and B&Bs from The Dartmoor Tourist Association (01822 890567) www.dartmoor-guide.co.uk. The High Moorland Visitor Centre is open all year (01822 890414). The latest on Dartmoor is on www.dartmoor-npa.gov.uk
Travel guide: England
The search for another Eden
From the Daily Mail
A great garden should consist of dew-spangled lawns, flower-beds, shrubberies, ancient trees, profusions of roses and bird song. And it should overwhelm you with feelings of delight, if not rapture.
Which is why I feel let down by the much-hyped Eden Project.
OK, the great, translucent, bubble-like biomes are architecturally magnificent. The water features and giant trees so recently popped into instant position in the Humid Tropics biome are certainly impressive, but where's the spiritual dimension? Where are the transcendental vibes?
When all is said and done, what you are actually getting, for your whopping £9.80 entrance fee, is a wander round a couple of vast greenhouses.
On busy days - and it was hellishly busy when I visited in June, not even the summer hols - you get stuck in a queue of cars and coaches, you fight for parking space and shuttle bus, you are herded through the biomes with little time to stand and stare without being jostled.
And sometimes the 'Eden Full' sign goes up, which means you've come all this way and been queuing to no avail.
Millions have flocked here, millions clearly love it, but I fought my way out in a panic.
But not to worry. I was staying bang in the centre of England's greatest concentration of magnificent gardens.
Budock Vean Hotel, near Falmouth, has 30 wonderful gardens within a 15-mile radius, real long-established havens where you can wander and wonder in solitary bliss.
Only 10 minutes stroll along a bridle path from the hotel is the fabulous 26-acre Trebah Garden, a steeply wooded ravine which tumbles down to a tiny, white-sanded private beach overlooking the Helford River.
Now this is more like it!
Travel guide: England
Lead a life of luxury in Cornwall
From the Daily Mail
Past midnight on Friday night, we arrived at the Hotel Tresanton and were shown up to a huge, pistachio-painted room lined with wooden furniture and cosy old books.
Moments later, there was a knock on the door and a smiling boy wafted in, carrying a tray laden with smoked salmon, salad and Mediterranean bread, which we ate before collapsing between soft sheets.
Only Italian Frette linen will do at England's most fashionable hotel.
In the morning we woke up to a glorious view (sparkling sea with an unspoilt promontory and lighthouse across the bay) and joined lots of other de-stressing couples enjoying their full English breakfasts in the dining room, which is lined with tongue-and-groove the colour of Cornish cream.
Tresanton is in the pretty fishing village of St Mawes, near Falmouth, Cornwall, but the hotel looks more New England than old England. It is so tasteful that it brings in the stars, and Charles and Camilla have been here more than once.
The night we got there, the Duchess of Kent had been choppered in for dinner.
Tresanton is that sort of place because it's deluxe and its owner, Lord Forte's daughter Olga Polizzi, and her husband, the writer William Shawcross, are the best-connected Sybil and Basil.
It is run with the style and charm of the slickest house party in England.
Pairs of navy blue Hunter wellies are lined up for guests in size order. Every room has two blue beach towels in a basket, and an enormous umbrella.
The guests (including Pierce Brosnan, Claudia Schiffer, Jeremy Paxman, Harry Enfield and Rowan Atkinson) are so glitzy that even Olga admits she is sometimes taken aback by the celebrity head-count.
Olga bought Tresanton five years ago, because her husband spent childhood summers in St Mawes.
Travel guide: England
Fabulously fishy
Down in Padstow harbour the sea is blue and twinkly. It is 9am and already people are wobbling on bicycles loaded with picnics and child seats to ride the Camel River Trail to Bodmin.
Up at the Metropole - Padstow's oldest and grandest hotel - others are taking it more slowly, with one eye on the sea and the other on the full English breakfast spread out on their plates.
Down by the quay, the shops selling ice-cream and beach balls are opening their doors.
But I'm off to spend seven hours slaving over a hot stove. A day of descaling, gutting, filleting, frying - everything anyone can do with fish.
Some kind of penance? Not if you ask the 15 other souls who are here to do the same thing.
We have arrived at a swish converted warehouse for a one-day course at Rick Stein's Padstow Seafood School.
We troop into a hushed anteroom to be greeted and given our chef's whites. Then it's straight into the kitchen with its 20 state-of-the-art ovens.
There's a wicked gleam of chrome and steel, and knives that are impossibly sharp.
Sixteen adults, whom I discover include a banker, a ward sister, a civil servant and a council worker, are visibly awed.
Seated around a table, though, we relax. Coffee is served and we have time to find out about each other. Most are here as a treat for birthday or Christmas.
Two-thirds of my fellow pupils are men and want to cook the Rick Stein way - informally and simply, with a minimum of fuss and to maximum effect. And, of course, they want to do it with fish.
Travel guide: England
Cornwall's out of this world
From the Mail on Sunday
Our Cornish holiday started ominously with supper at a pub somewhere on the edge of Dartmoor. Rosie's 'sirloin steak' was grey and leathery, my lamb chops were charred black, the floury 'new potatoes' were pitted with mysterious dark lumps like veruccas and the beer was merely tasteless.
As for the pub itself, layer upon layer of stale smells exuded wearily from its every tarnished pore. In true British fashion we did not complain. In fact, it was almost reassuring to see that our national genius for disgusting, overpriced cuisine was still alive and flourishing.
Nevertheless, as we drove on westward for Cornwall I wondered nervously what we would find at the 'idyllic, detached, thatched cottage' we had rented for our long weekend.
I need not have worried. Fresh-baked scones and clotted cream were waiting for us in the spotless fridge. The Aga's warm glow permeated the whole cottage and there was not a trace of mould to be found. The bathroom gleamed and the bedrooms were bowered in tasteful chintz. As our seven-year-old son Edmond observed wistfully, it would be wonderful if our own home were this luxurious.
Angrouse Cottage at Mullion stands on the west coast of The Lizard, the Cornish thumb which juts south into the Atlantic to form an open pincer with the western forefinger of Lands End.
First thing in the morning we walked the half mile from the cottage to the cliff top to have a look at the Marconi Monument, where the first transatlantic radio message was transmitted to Newfoundland in 1901. After breakfast we returned with towels and bathing costumes to continue along the coastal path as the mist rolled back to reveal a jagged coastline with the promise of sandy coves.
The chevronned stone walls were luminous with thrift and sea campion and the beach was almost deserted. We scrambled over silvery slate cliffs to explore the secret world of rock pools.
We played at being the artist Andy Goldsworthy, building elaborate pebble sculptures for the tide to knock down. We raced across the sand and ran howling into the icy waves. Then lay smugly, soaking up the first hot sun of the year.
And, as the memories of childhood holidays came flooding back, washing away the accumulation of subsequent exotic trips to Africa, Peru, Chile, the Himalayas (where I climbed Everest) and Antarctica, I realised that you don't actually have to travel thousands of miles to find beautiful wild country.
Travel guide: England
Exploring the Chilterns
From the Daily Mail
Closing my eyes for a moment I could just about visualise the rolling green Chiltern Hills transformed into the vast snowy wastes of Siberia. But to most people walking their pooches in the Black Park Country Park between Slough and Denham in Buckinghamshire that morning, it was simply another piece of parkland.
What they didn't realise - unless, of course, they happened to have a copy of Film & TV Locations In Thames & Chilterns Country - was that this was no ordinary forest. And if it ever stops raining and you're stuck for things to do over the Christmas holiday, this locations guide provides plenty of diversions.
The tour is for movie and TV fans; for those who find pixie dust sprinkled wherever their heroes walked. Of course, the biggest star on this tour is the Chilterns itself, designated an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.
Over the past few decades, the copse - a mile from the Pinewood Studios, off the A412 - has served as an Indian camp in Carry On Cowboy, a military camp in The Charge Of The Light Brigade, a gipsy camp in Please Sir and most ingeniously of all - assisted by a few tons of sprayed snow - a Siberian labour camp in One Day In The Life Of Ivan Denisovich.
The magic forest is just one of 150 locations that have appeared in everything from Hammer House Of Horror to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang; from A Hard Day's Night to The Sex Pistols' Great Rock & Roll Swindle, from Till Death Us Do Part to The Vicar Of Dibley, and from Superman 2 to Star Wars: The Phantom Menace.
Increasingly, however, it is the British and American fans of the hugely successful ITV detective thriller, Midsomer Murders, who are pawing through the book as they tour the area. They come to follow the trail of super-sleuth Chief Inspector Barnaby, played by John Nettles, as he lifts the lid on the seeming bonhomie of the village fete and oh-so-polite manners of tea in the vicarage, to reveal the smouldering jealousies and resentments that have led to a rash of murders.
Touring the area, it's hard to imagine that behind the lace curtains of these time-locked, slumbering English villages, such dastardly deeds could be committed. But then it's even harder to imagine the ghouls that wrought havoc in the area when it was a favourite backlot of Hammer horror films.
Travel guide: England
Chalk up a walk in the Chilterns
From the Mail on Sunday
The turbo train roared away and deep peace descended on Great Missenden station. In the old days of country railways there would have been clanking milk churns and cooing racing pigeons in straw baskets. Now the only sound was the unfolding of my map and a rhapsody from a nearby wren.
In the dead centre of the Chilterns, my walking options were wide. 'Choose me,' chorused about 50 footpaths, leading to all points of the compass. But there was no contest. It isn't every day you can walk along a brand new chalk stream.
The Chilterns is the South East's national park in all but name. Four key words sum up this precious area: hill, wood, village and stream.
However, drought and pumping for domestic water supplies have been sucking dry the famous watercourses. Take away streams like the Chess and the Ver, the Gade and the Whistle Brook, and the Chilterns faces relegation to a lesser landscape league.
When I last saw the Misbourne in 1990, it was an ex-river, a bone-dry depression in a meadow. The water firm announced a recovery programme, shutting off the pumps. Two winters of heavy rain did the rest.
I set off, past the bookshop where John Major bought his Christmas presents when he lived in nearby Chequers, and soon found the promised stile into the cow field.
Ahead was a sight to make the cynical walker's eyes mist over, an ecological miracle: the Misbourne reborn. It looked pure enough to drink, snaking across the meadow in its old channel, swift and deep. By next summer conservationists expect river wildlife to return; plants dormant for years, like mint and sedge, ranunculus and water forget-me-not. There might be kingfishers, even an otter.
I passed the source, a large pool near the Black Horse pub, and struck north on the South Bucks Way. Sensible boot prints pointed to my first hill. The whole of Coneybank has been given over to picnics, Easter egg rolling, whatever you like. Time to plan my day.
Travel guide: England
Havens of repose
From the Daily Mail
On summer weekends, Cambridge seethes with visitors - and with some justification. It's arguably the most beautiful of the university towns.
But sometimes one longs for a little peace and quiet - and it's there for the finding, if you know where to look.
College gardens are havens of repose. Some are open to the public daily, others have set aside Open Days through the summer.
I was lucky to be accompanied by a group of Cambridge friends who were going to get me into gardens not having Open Days during my stay.
First stop was the Fellows' Garden at Clare College - to my mind the best and one that's open all year. Clare stands next to King's College - its grey- stone building overshadowed by the soaring King's College Chapel.
We made our way over the river Cam via a stone bridge - the oldest in Cambridge, built for the Fellows in 1640 to give them a back-door to the countryside, avoiding the plague-ridden city.
We ducked behind walls covered with creepers, admired irises that were almost chest high and lingered by the pond in a sunken garden.
In the sunlight on a bank sloping down to the Cam, we sat watching punts glide past.
We'd made a picnic for our jaunt on a punt, but first we visited the nearby King's Fellows' Garden.
Irregular islands - thick with trees and bordered by shrubs - were surrounded by lawns that had been given a wavy striped effect.
Travel guide: England
Home of the Tufty Club
From the Daily Mail
A tiny island community of 30 human beings and 250 red squirrels, a bird refuge and a playground for rich eccentrics... Sounds like some craggy Shetland outcrop, yet Brownsea Island is just a mile from busy Poole Harbour, in Dorset.
A 12-minute ferry ride from the end of Poole High Street takes you from the world of Dixons and Woolworths to a fairy-tale land without roads and mains water - but with its own fire service (the island was burnt to a crisp in 1934, and they don't want it to happen again).
From the moment you set foot on the quayside, in front of the little castle, now a holiday hotel for John Lewis staff, you have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming.
Children's prams are provided free, while two-seater motorised buggies enable the less nimble to navigate the island's interior. Children dressed as pirates rush off into the woods, causing hens and geese to scurry away. 'My lot are doing the treasure hunt trail,' explains a panting mother.'Should keep them occupied for a couple of hours.' No question about it.
But the island's too small - at a mile-and-a-half long and half-a-mile wide - for them to get lost. A third of the island is a designated bird reserve but you're allowed inside the gates only on conducted tours.
Serious twitchers trill the praises of Brownsea's birds (herons, oystercatchers, curlews, woodpeckers) but trippers less interested in birds can also find plenty to interest them - from armies of leaf-bearing ants to small clusters of fan-tailed peacocks, from gobbling turkeycocks to luminous green dragonflies. Plus deer and rabbits so keen to be here they swim across from the mainland.
'We'd rather they didn't,' says island manager Barry Guest, who's lived on the island for 40 years.'They disrupt the ecological balance.'
But the red squirrels are the island's star turn, with their pointed, lynx-like ears and amazingly wispy, weightless tails, which divide down the middle like a pair of gentlemen's fluffy side-whiskers.
Hounded from the mainland by its ruthless grey rival, the red squirrel - popular for years as Tufty, the road safety mascot - found a refuge on Brownsea, owned, until 1961, by an eccentric old lady, Mary Bonham-Christie, who forbade all hunting and fishing and vetoed animal control, decreeing the island should be left wild. Lord Baden-Powell, in 1907, held the first-ever Scout camp on Brownsea.
Today, Brownsea belongs to the National Trust, which bought it with the help of £100,000 raised by locals determined to repel property developers.
Although ferries now call every 15 minutes, as opposed to the once-a-day post boat back in Miss Bonham-Christie's era, something about the island belongs not just to another century - but to another world.
TRAVEL FACTS:
It's your last chance to see Tufty and his friends this year - Brownsea (01202 707744) closes on October 1 until next April, 10am-6pm (5pm low season). Admission £3.50 adults, £1.50 children. Ferries (£5 return) every 15 minutes.
Travel guide: England
Hidden treasure off the South Coast
From the Daily Mail
Children love islands. Show them a strip of sea and a distant land mass and they pipe up like characters out of Enid Blyton: 'Gosh, a real island! D'you think there'll be buried treasure there?' 'Jolly well hope so,' I say, sounding more like a Girl Guide leader than a member of the Famous Five.
I must confess, though, that before last summer I knew nothing of Brownsea Island, a 500-acre jewel off the Dorset coast. For anyone who doesn't know their Scouting history, this is where Lord Baden-Powell set up his first camp with 22 boys in the August of 1907.
Ninety years later, khaki suits and woggles are still to be spotted, like a sober national costume, all over the island. But we are uniform-free, a party of day-trippers among thousands who make the 25-minute voyage every summer. (Only organised scout groups may camp here; there is no camp site or provision for members of the public.) Many come to admire its colourful past, which included Viking invasions, a medieval castle and quantities of lost pirate treasure.
In Edwardian times, Brownsea was a private estate, with its own pleasure steamer and golf course. At one time it had a thriving industry growing daffodils. During World War II, it became a 'decoy', sending up flares to distract Nazi bombers. Today, the island is under the protective umbrella of the National Trust, whose job is to balance the needs of nature and the increasing number of sightseers.
At Poole Quay, potential visitors are warned they cannot land at Brownsea without paying the entrance fee. Dogs are unwelcome because the island has a large free-range population of peacocks and rare red squirrels.
The 25-minute trip across Poole Harbour was just long enough to let the children, Frances and Joe, know this is a proper island, not one of those cheating headlands. As we chugged towards the picturesque quayside there was a frisson of excitement.
The reception area offers a swift introduction to the island, including a video, giant map and leaflets. We opted for the Smugglers' Trail and the excellent Guide For Children - a fascinating potted history with its own ground plan - adequate reading for the interested adult, too. Armed with picnic lunch and a football, we were on our way.
Travel guide: England
Great days out
From the Mail on Sunday
You could convince any child that science can be thrilling by taking them on a visit to one of the lively and informative special attractions around Britain during the school holidays.
ExploreatBristol, Harbourside, Bristol (tel: 0117 915 5000, www.at-bristol.org.uk) This is 21st Century technology at its stimulating best. Test your reactions, activate brain cells to move a skeleton, or walk into the eye of a tornado. Old technology - pumping pistons, operating lock gates, building bridges - is equally popular. Explanations of complicated processes - for example, what keeps planes flying - are masterly. Open daily 10am-6pm.
Woolsthorpe Manor, Colsterworth, Lincolnshire (01476 860338) Isaac Newton discovered gravity when he was hit on the head by a falling apple in his garden. At his delightful birthplace visitors can try his discoveries - test the law of gravity, pass a beam of white light through a prism to break it into a rainbow, and use calculus to work out the speed of a bungee jumper's fall. Open daily (not Mon or Tues except Bank Holiday Mon) 1pm-5.30pm.
Satrosphere - Science and Technology Expo, The Tramsheds, Constitution Street, Aberdeen (01224 640340, www.satrosphere.net) Heat, light, sound and energy are the themes here. Become a human battery, or watch a transparent sheep light up when it is fed and digests its food. But don't try the spin chair just after lunch. Planets hang from the black ceiling of this former tram depot. Open Mon-Sat 10am-5pm, Sun 11.30am-5pm.
National Space Centre, Exploration Drive, Leicester (0870 607 7223, www.spacecentre.co.uk) A 136ft rocket launcher towers over this exhibition dedicated to space. Ethereal music envelops you as you launch a rocket and find out what it takes to be an astronaut. You might even discover how the universe will end. The Russian Soyuz T space capsule, moon rock and our own Blue Streak technology. Open 9.30am (Mon noon) - 4.30pm.
Magna Science Adventure Centre, Sheffield Road, Rotherham, South Yorkshire (01709 720002, www.magnatrust.org.uk) The former Templeborough Steel Works now contains two multimedia shows, pavilions dedicated to earth, air, fire and water and is packed with interactive games. Dodge water cannon, drive a JCB, blow up a virtual rock face, experience the power of lightning, get close to a tornado and feel what it is like to fly. Open 10am-5pm.
Electric Mountain, Llanberis, Gwynedd (01286 870 636, www.fhc.co.uk) Dinorwig power station - inside a man-made cavern on Llanberis mountain - is reminiscent of a James Bond film. When they start the turbines - electricity is generated by pumping water between two reservoirs - feel the vibration through your feet. A film show and interactive displays set the scene before a tour. Open daily 9.30am-5.30pm.
Explosion, Priddy's Hard, Gosport, Hampshire (023 9250 5600, www.explosion.org.uk) Seeing how many shells they can load in 60 seconds is popular with competitively-minded fathers and sons in this interactive museum in Priddy's Hard, a store for gunpowder since l777. It tells the story of naval fire power from the time of Nelson to the atom bomb and the Exocet. Visitors can walk on a mine-strewn seabed or stand on a heaving deck to fire a naval gun. Open daily 10am-5.30pm.
Travel guide: England
Cool? Yes, but it's still chilly
Alum Chine, Bournemouth: a hand's span from ochre sands and the lulling tide. I am sitting under a palm sipping Champagne in the sunshine while my daughter and friends excavate the beach.
Same spot: track back a few years. I'm perched on an unyielding concrete bench swilling grey tea from a polystyrene cup and cradling fatty chips in a cardboard cone.
The sun, sea and sand are all here and the children are still engaged with their sand sculptures, but the ambience is distinctly bucket-and-spade.
But now you can observe from a safe distance with a glass of chilled wine and some penne puttanesca.
Bournemouth has come over all Mediterranean. Where once there were kiosks where you queued interminably for burger and chips, now there are blond-wood cafe bars where they'll barbecue a freshly-landed sea bass on decking by the beach, and restaurants with waiting lists as long as the Ivy's.
At Southbourne in the east, Bistro On The Beach transforms at night, Cinderella-style, from beach cafe into an elegant place to dine.
At Vesuvio in the west, you can take a morning latte on the terrace while the children caper between the playground and the sea.
Sunday lunchtime and we eat at Westbeach, near the pier: a kir royale then fruits de mer - fresh from Poole quay that morning - followed by chocolate creme brulee.
I've always loved Bournemouth with its sweep of seven-mile sands, its pine-wooded chines and pleasure gardens.
But now it is vibrant - even trendy. Harpers & Queen magazine has called it 'the next coolest city on the planet'.
Bournemouth has more nightclubs than Soho. Klute & Bree's has a roof-terrace restaurant and bar thronging with sleek, hyper-groomed youths who look as if they belong on Footballers' Wives.
Which perhaps they do, as Louise and Jamie Redknapp are often there with Spurs team-mate Darren Anderton.
Travel guide: England
A family hit
The beach was a great hit, although it was a bit crowded, and we liked the Kids Zone idea - coloured tags to correspond to areas of the beach so you can trace your child if they wander.
Ours were content to stay close to all the food we'd brought with us - beach cafes being crowded and pricey and our kids being dead fussy.
When we were in town the illuminations were on in the gardens, which run right through the centre of Bournemouth. Children can help light thousands of candles in coloured jars, which are strung together to make pictures.
Three-year-old Callum was entranced by the whole thing. It takes place several times over the summer, apparently.
On Friday night there were really good fireworks over the pier, with thousands of people out to watch. It was another regular summer thing, a local resident told us.
Joe, 11, was excited about the IMAX cinema by the beach but, unfortunately, it's not open yet. He also got excited by the hot-air balloon in the pleasure gardens, but lost interest when he found out it's tethered and doesn't go anywhere - just up and down.
We took a bus to Poole and Joe found consolation on the old quay, where all kinds of interesting boats were tied up and he could watch the big ferries coming in. Callum was more interested in a boat ride on the lake in Poole Park, where we also fed the ducks, swans and Canada geese and rode on the little train.
Travel guide: England
Food and wine in domestic climes
When I told friends I planned to visit an English vineyard as part of a weekend food break, reactions ranged from contempt to outright concern - as if I was about to jeopardise my health.
Negative attitudes are all too common, according to David Bates, an award-winning Northamptonshire wine-maker.
He said: "There are a lot of people who won't even try it. It's a shame, really. They don't know what they're missing out on."
As English Wine Week prepares to kick off on May 28, I was keen to discover if homemade plonk would leave me gagging - or glugging merrily.
David's two-acre vineyard on the outskirts of Market Harborough can produce up to 2,000 bottles of white, sparkling white, rose and red wines in a good year - provided his grapes aren't ravaged by the British climate or greedy badgers and wasps.
"It's a challenge," admitted the 63-year-old retired solicitor. But he added: "We're producing a unique product. There's not many people doing it. We are pioneers really."
Long, slow ripening of the grapes, hand-picking, gentle pressing and cool fermentation make it a time-consuming process. But for wine buffs like me - well, I'm an expert at drinking the stuff - the results were a pleasant surprise.
I started with a glass of sparkling white, so light and fizzy, it practically danced across my tongue. Next came a sip of medium dry white - crisp and fresh. But it was the glass of red that blew me away. Although I'd expected it to taste like festering plonk in a student's bedsit, it was smooth as velvet.
Even David was chuffed. "The early ones were a bit dodgy. This is probably the first that's just about right."
Inspired, I bought a bottle. Prices start at £6. To book a £3 tour, with free tastings, call David at Welland Valley Vineyard on 01858 434591.
Although you'd be hard pressed to find English wines served at many local restaurants, some are making a point of supporting their local vineyards. The Lamport Swan gastropub is one. Its sophisticated menu and decor wouldn't look out of place in a trendy corner of London.
Travel guide: England
A Phoenix Night on the town
Comedian Peter Kay has always been a little unkind about his home town.
Bolton, he used to say in his stand-up act, is one of those places where they still stop and point up at the sky if an aeroplane passes.
The town seems to have forgiven him, because there is a poster in its splendid Victorian library and museum which boasts: 'Peter Kay wrote the second series of Phoenix Nights here.'
Quite right, too, that Bolton should take pride in one of its most successful sons. Kay's version of the North might be cheeky, but it is shot through with so much warmth and affection that only the most humourless Northerner could possibly object
And now there is evidence that his clubland comedy may be responsible for a mini tourist boom. Well, maybe not a boom exactly, not a fully fledged thermos-flask-time-to-stop-for-a-toilet-break coach-party boom. But when I turned up in search of the real Phoenix Nights I had the distinct impression I was not the first.
As it happens, the club where the programme is shot is on the road from Last Of The Summer Wine country in the Pennines to the Coronation Street studios in Manchester, so it is probably only a matter of time before the area is marketed as Phoenix Nights country.
This will be great news for the committee at St Gregory's Social Club in Farnworth, three miles south of Bolton, where they have bought a new red floral carpet and re-covered their seats with money Channel Four paid them for accommodating Peter Kay and his cast.
Now, chairman Paul Sandland tells me, they may be able to spruce up the club even more, thanks to the steady trickle of Kay fans arriving each week to pay homage to, and take advantage of, St Gregory's very reasonably priced beer.
Farnworth is a smudge on the map. Its main street is little more than a strip of discount shops, takeaways and off licences outside which teenagers mooch in the evenings.
At the other end of the town stands the legacy of better days: a pretty park, an impressive Edwardian town hall and the well equipped Carnegie Library.
The friendly librarian I ask to direct me to St Gregory's has been asked before. 'Oh, the Phoenix Nights club,' she says. 'Every few days someone comes in here looking for it. There's not much to see actually, but it brings back good memories for me. I had my wedding reception there.'
Travel guide: England
Enigma destination
From the Mail on Sunday
Hands up who's seen Enigma?' It was a good question, as we were standing in the library of the mansion at Bletchley Park in Buckinghamshire, the setting for the film which immortalises the brilliant men and women who broke the Germans' secret military code - and probably won the war.
A few hands went up.
'And did you enjoy it?' Another good question. My answer? 'I didn't understand it.' There was a murmur of assent from others who had seen the film.
Fortunately, if we wanted to know what really went on at Station X, as Bletchley was called, we were in good hands. Our guide, Jean, had worked here during the War, in a role that placed her at the very heart of its secret mission.
The film has more car chases and romantic clinches than code breaking. It goes like this: boy (Dougray Scott) gets girl (Saffron Burrows), boy loses girl . . . and his marbles. Boy meets another girl (Kate Winslet), boy gets marbles back, cracks Enigma code and is hence responsible for perhaps the most crucial factor in the defeat of the Nazis.
Phew, big stuff. The story Jean told us was both less dramatic and much more compelling. During the Second World War Station X was the most secret place in Britain, crucial to the war effort. Its purpose was to decipher the daily mountain of encoded communications from German army, navy and airforce that were eavesdropped on at listening stations across the country.
Easier said than done, when the Germans had a highly sophisticated encoding device called Enigma to scramble the information in any one of millions of ways.
To decipher it, you needed the key. At Bletchley Park, an oddball bunch of mathematicians, crossword experts and chess champions found the key, which meant the Allies had advance warning of much that the Germans planned. The sinking of the Bismarck and defeat of the U-boats, to take just two examples, are attributed to the work of the Bletchley boffins.
Despite its historic importance, Bletchley Park is unprepossessing; a late 19th Century mansion of mongrel architectural influences, its 50 acres colonised by an array of mouldering wooden huts. And Bletchley, once a little railway town, is now swamped by the roundabout-and-arterial-road soup of greater Milton Keynes.
Travel guide: England
Funtime break in Blackpool
From the Daily Mail
Windswept Blackpool, with its saucy postcards and jellied eels, is about as English as it gets.
If you're not jetting off in search of New Year sun because you prefer a British Christmas, you could do worse than book into one of the resort's hotels or guest houses to spend a few days visiting shows, riding roller coasters, tangoing in the Tower Ballroom and having your fortune told on the pier.
During the recent illuminations, I took my two children, Larne, 14, and Max, 12, for a long weekend. On the train there, the two of them rubbed their hands with glee at a Pleasure Beach brochure that tracked the Pepsi Max Big One's demented roller coaster rampage through the theme park.
Three years ago, when I first rode the monster - with its 235ft drop followed by an 87mph hurtle through a mile of twists and turns - I approached it like a condemned man does the electric chair. Now I was as excited as the children.
The Pleasure Beach was, naturally, our first port of call. We limbered up with Ice Blast, a vertical explosion 20 storeys into the sky and freefall back to earth, then followed it with Avalanche, a five-minute bobsleigh ride round a twisting chicane.
Max then announced it was time for the Big One. The queue was light and within ten minutes we were anxiously fumbling with our seat belts. For what seemed like an eternity, we were cranked up the 235ft. The Irish Sea's iron corrugations lay to our left, the mayhem of the park to our right, and directly below, certain death.
As we hovered, tantalisingly, I told Larne to close her eyes and count slowly to four. Of course, she didn't. None of us did. Our terror was left behind as we hurtled vertically, twisting midway with the ground rushing towards us before we were suddenly scooped up and propelled through the corkscrewing switchback. We roared as the adrenaline coursed through our veins.
Travel guide: England
Chip butties by the sea
From the Mail on Sunday
Sitting in Bispham's Kitchen at the end of Queen's Promenade when the waitress puts my plate down, I know this is where I belong. Cod and chips for £3.50, mushy peas at an extra 60p, a plate of bread and butter thrown in . . . and you have never tasted cod and chips like this.
I have eaten in some of the smartest restaurants in London yet never fallen on my food with such ecstasy. Put a pile of chips on the buttered bread, add ketchup, a smear of mushy peas and some moist flakes of fish, and you have a gastronomic experience beyond words: the chip butty.
You think I'm kidding? No - I'm as serious as it's possible to be in this daftest of seaside towns. Outside, the illuminations are twinkling and all around me, at 9.30pm, families are tucking into similar meals. Mouth full, I'm in heaven. Blackpool has welcomed me back.
There may be plans to turn the resort into England's answer to Las Vegas - theme parks, casinos and glitzy shows - but to me it will always be the place I first visited with my parents when I was three, on a works outing to see the illuminations along the Golden Mile.
After that, we'd go on days out from Liverpool, to ply buckets and spades on those wide beaches buffeted by bracing winds off the sepia sea. The sprinkling of fine sand seemed a key ingredient in our picnics, and nobody fussed about sun cream or the danger to dental health of sucking sticks of pink rock.
I watched with my brother and grandparents from the gilded balcony as mum and dad quickstepped around the Tower Ballroom, and begged for candyfloss and a kiss-me-quick hat, neither of which I was allowed to have.
Autumn after autumn we'd travel up to 'see the lights' and I never tired of the jewelled magic of the display. Blackpool's garish colours were painted on the inner eye of my childhood, and I carried its crash and jangle in my head when I grew up.
The idea of the English seaside holiday is inseparable from the reality of Blackpool. When, in the second half of the 19th Century, tranquil fishing villages like Scarborough and Brighton were transforming themselves into holiday resorts to cater for the new craze of sea bathing, Blackpool became the most boisterous of them.
The local newspaper noted in 1875 that it was a place where 'people expect to have a jolly, care-for-nothing scamper'. Whole towns flocked to Blackpool for the 'wakes' weeks when factories shut down. They didn't go to be uplifted by scenery or wonderful buildings; they booked into a bed and breakfast simply to have a cracking good time.
And that's what they were doing on my last visit - the streets heaving with people of all ages, not deterred by the light drizzle but determined to sample all the goodies the town has to offer.
Travel guide: England
An ode to Betjeman country
Back in 1973 when I was a 13-year-old schoolgirl and John Betjeman a 67-year-old Poet Laureate, I wrote him a letter.
I told him I had decided to be a famous poet just like him and I enclosed some of my poems for his perusal. I also informed him that my all-time favourite poem was Indoor Games Near Newbury.
He wrote back instantly, saying: 'Your kind letter arrived just after breakfast, which is when poets tend to feel a little low, and it cheered me up immensely.' He then gave a thorough and generous appraisal of my poems.
For most of his married life, Betjeman lived in Oxfordshire, near the Berkshire border, first in the village of Uffington and then near Wantage.
It was his determination to live rural village life to the full which made him the poet he was to become. He was a church warden and his wife Penelope ran the local amateur dramatic society.
Maybe it's that I'm 41 and Betjeman's gone and I'm sentimental for the momentary connection we forged but now I want to see the countryside which formed him, the cosy Berkshire which he evokes so well in Indoor Games. I decide that we must go to Newbury right away, on the trail of Wendy and her party.
My partner Jonathan says he has no urge to take a holiday in West Berkshire and will only accompany me if there's somewhere really wonderful to stay. It turns out there is.
The Vineyard at Stockcross is an acclaimed 'restaurant-with-rooms-attached' opened three years ago by British industrialist and Californian wine grower Sir Peter Michael.
With a spa and 31 rooms, it nestles in the very heart of 'Wendy's party' country. We book straightaway for a single, lavish, kid-less Sunday night.
Checking the map, I see there's a place called Goldfinch Bottom near Stockcross. Close enough. 'Perhaps we'll find a Lagonda showroom!' I exclaim to Jonathan. He points out that this would be unnerving, considering the original company went bankrupt in the Thirties.
Travel guide: England
Amazing Grace is still a heroine
From the Mail on Sunday
Lying in the corner of a village cemetery in Northumberland is the tomb of Victorian England's greatest heroine. Celebrated up and down the country for her courage, she was showered with honours, medals and prizes. Wordsworth paid tribute to her bravery in a poem. Queen Victoria sent her a large gift of money.
Her name was Grace Darling, a lighthouse keeper's daughter, who put to sea in a ferocious storm to save the lives of passengers aboard a stricken steamship. Ignoring fears for her own safety, she rowed into the teeth of a gale and plucked nine survivors from the wreck of the Forfarshire.
Grace's heroism is celebrated a museum in Bamburgh, the village of her birth, which was built 60 years ago to mark the centenary of the rescue. The Grace Darling Museum is a tiny place - there are just two rooms - and its displays are resolutely old fashioned. Yet more than 50,000 visitors from all over the world flock to it each year.
The Darlings were a resourceful but retiring family who for more than a decade had lived on the bleak Farne Islands, five miles off Northumbria. The isolation of these islands had once made them popular with the monks and hermits of the Dark Ages. St Cuthbert himself rowed across to Inner Farne in the sixth century and built a chapel whose tiny chancel now bears an inscription to Grace.
Today, weather permitting, local boat owner Billy Shiels runs daily tours to see the grey seals and seal pups, as well as the puffins, kittiwakes, terns and guillemots which nest there.
Travel guide: England
The romance of the stones
From the Mail on Sunday
The grown-ups wanted something close to home, a little bit worthwhile and comfortable.
But the kids wanted to 'go and see something that's not educational'.
Which is how we ended up at Stonehenge and its lesser-known but far more impressive cousin at Avebury.
A bit too educational, perhaps?
Well, we hoped we'd get away with it. Isn't prehistory - weird, bolshie, gargantuan - the rock 'n' roll of history? At least, we reasoned, the stones don't look like art.
'So this is the deal,' Jonathan and I told the kids. 'We go and look at the stones and then we stay in a really grand hotel.'
'Stones?' said a worried Raff. 'What, just a pile of stones?'
'How grand?' asked Jacob.
'More than three star?' Chloë demanded.
'Much more than three star,' we told them gravely. 'Lucknam Park is like nothing you have ever seen.'
Travel guide: England
Take some walks on the wild side
From the Mail on Sunday
Walking is the new jogging - health experts reckon it's the best way to get fit and lose weight.
It's also the best way to see some of the finest places in Britain. With a stout pair of boots (break them in beforehand), an Ordnance Survey map, a compass and a packed lunch, the most glorious hidden corners of the UK are at your disposal.
If you're keen to take a trial dip into the wonderful world of walking, here are a few of my favourites that you should consider. Good hiking...
BRECON BEACONS, WALES
'Do you want the hard way - or the harder way?' asked the tourist board man. 'Unless you prefer the easy way. That's by helicopter.' So we walked up Pen y Fan (2,907ft above sea level) the highest place in southern Britain.
Pen y Fan is a great sloping shoulder of a mountain, topped with a ridge as sharp as a knife. No need for a map on a fine day - stop climbing only when you can't see anything higher up ahead.
An excellent path to the top switches gears - the final stretch is in steepest mode. It must make even the SAS, who train here, pause for breath. Reaching the top gives you the right to stroll about looking smug.
We gazed over half a country, a patchwork quilt of fields, and into a blur of hills lost in blue mist. Then back to our hotel in Brecon, an easy-paced market town of Georgian and Jacobean streets and passageways with interesting shop-fronts and a splendid traditional ice cream parlour.
Next day we sampled the easiest route, a wonderful seven-mile flat walk, of zooming kingfishers and gently phutphutting narrow boats. In the distance, those famous peaks.
Tourist information: Cattle Market Car Park, Brecon LD3 9DA (Tel: 01874 62248)
Travel guide: England
Family fun round-the-clock
My visit to Butlins at Bognor Regis was clouded by draughty memories of my last time at its Skegness holiday camp in the '70s — but I need not have worried.
The vast complex houses opportunities for wall-to-wall fun at affordable prices whatever the weather or your age. After a three-day break, my son of 13 and his pal had had so much fun that they didn't want to go home.
Round-the-clock free entertainment and keeping the customer satisfied is the name of the game at Butlins Bognor Regis. The weekend I visited, it ran from 11am daily to after 10pm with fun for kids and adults in the Skyline Pavilion.
For youngsters, there was kids' TV star Mark Speight and Noddy while the stars of Old Moscow Circus, wrestling and the Redcoats provided family fare.
My self-catering silver apartment at Butlins Bognor Regis was a home from home — quite a difference to the chilly chalet I shared with a pal in 1972.
Costing just £107 per person for three days, it was cosy and clean with two bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom and TV. Prices for a standard apartment range from £38 during the year while there is also the option of half board from £60 for a similar break.
There was plenty of organised fun for kids of all ages at Butlins. As well as a nursery for under-fives and supervised activities for five to 12-year-olds, there's a sports academy with archery, fencing and petanque.
In fact, I was amazed by the sheer range of entertainment at Butlins Bognor Regis, not including kids' clubs. They included a funfair, splash waterworld, indoor and outdoor adventure area and Noddy's Toyland for toddlers, which were all free.
For an extra charge there was also bowling, crazy golf, go-karts, pool, table tennis and trampolining. No wonder I needed a rest after all that!
Travel guide: England
New thrills at Legoland
Legoland Windsor did not immediately spring to mind as a fun-filled family destination, but to my surprise there was a lot more than I first expected.
I had a preconceived idea that it would simply be a collection of miniature reconstructions of famous buildings made from Lego bricks.
The park does have models of the Millennium Wheel, the Palace of Westminster and others, but also plenty of rides and attractions of its own.
Recently re-opened for the 2004 season, Legoland isn't resting on its laurels.
The new Jungle Coaster is the park's fastest ride at 40mph, full of turns and sudden drops including a 42ft plunge at one point.
For those who prefer their thrills on the ground, there is a regular live action show. Escape From Dragon Tower has a mixture of acrobatics, martial arts and audience participation.
In total, there are nine themed areas at Legoland Windsor.
Among the highlights, Duplo Land caters strictly for younger visitors, while Traffic features two driving schools for kids aged 3-5 and 6-13 years old respectively.
For older kids there is the Knights' Kingdom which features The Dragon roller coaster, while for those who enjoy getting wet the Wild Woods area has the Pirates Falls log flume.
Travel guide: England
Building up to a theme park
Theme parks, with all that hands-in-the-air carry on while screaming your head off on a roller coaster, have never really been my thing.
But the arrival of an heir to the Donald fortune two-and-a-half years ago - that Abba Arrival LP should be worth a bit in years to come - has prompted a rethink. Grudgingly, I have realised a visit to one will have to be braved.
And so it was I found myself one cold morning in April shuffling into Legoland, Windsor, with wife and tot in tow. Would it build up to a family outing of my dreams or nightmares?
Sitting on a hillside overlooking historic Windsor, Legoland is a pleasantly restrained affair. It blends in rather than being a blot on this particularly lush corner of England.
The rides and attractions are laid out among thoughtfully landscaped gardens. There's also no hard-sell of the building block product behind the whole venture or a gauntlet to run of resting actors clad in ludicrous costumes.
A journey into Legoland begins with a train ride - and with a Thomas The Tank Engine-obsessed child in tow such things are always a winner.
He went quiet in awe as we embarked on the short journey down the hillside into the heart of this manicured world. Could things get any better?
Well, they didn't with the first ride, a ferris wheel. After an age of loading and off-loading passengers, we did one rotation and had to get off. Even the boy seemed disappointed.
Legoland has had something of a revamp over the winter with the creation of five new attractions including three new rides.
The Dino Dipper is like a high paced merry-go-round affair. Then there's the Dino Safari, a gentle trundle in self-steering mini jeeps through a diddy safari park with lego animals.
There's also a new puppet show and mini models of Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Centre. And finally there's the Fire Academy.
With a two-and-a-half year old and two thrill-avoiding parents, Legoland's Dino Dipper ride was out. But from the screams of those who dared, it seemed to be a hit.
Also out of bounds was the Fire Academy. But this seemed to be one of the park's most popular rides.
Visitors clamber aboard fire engines mounted with hand pumps which they have to vigorously pump to manoeuvre the vehicles and power water hoses. Shrieks could heard all over the park, particularly from competitive mums and dads.
Travel guide: England
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| | | | Saintly cornish pasties on Agnes
Things looked up the next day when I met Doug, the best taxi driver in the Scillies. He did not mind heaving Basil on board, as he weighs seven stone and his stumpy little basset hound legs prevent him from climbing into cars. Nor did he object to driving to our front door (an extra £1.50).
Taxi trips back and forth certainly mounted up over the week. And you need to be prepared for squally weather. Most people wear a uniform of kagoul, hiking boots, bobble hat and binoculars hanging round their necks.
The general routine is to climb into the small boats that leave St Mary's Quay at 10am and chug over to the outlying islands. Journeys may be choppy but take only about 15 minutes.
My favourite island is St Agnes, ringed with silver beaches and narrow lanes lined with banks of wild flowers and escaped garden blooms. A lay-reader travelling across on the boat invited me to the Sunday church service. Dogs welcome, she said, and worshippers in holiday gear, too.
The tiny church, on the edge of the bay, has a glorious stained-glass window in memory of those who'd been lost at sea from St Agnes. I joined eight or so bobble-hatted, kagoul-wearing worshippers, while Basil snoozed on the hand-sewn hassocks. The organ played and my gaze wandered to the windows and beyond to the sea and rugged rocks.
Later I discovered the Turk's Head Inn, which serves delicious crab salad and gourmet homemade pasties. Rambling about the island, I saw cooked crabs for sale at 50p each in a basket outside a cottage, and an exquisite maze, like a work of modern art, made in 1729 from round stones on a grass slope overlooking the sea.
It is said that those who walk round it are filled with wellbeing. Basil certainly kept wagging his tail and I felt exhilarated, although this could have been due to a pint of Turk's Head cider.
A ritual circular area
Rather than being built at one time, it had been constructed and reworked over 1,700 years. It was a period which broadly marked the transition from the Neolithic to the Bronze Age.
Our group had been given special access to the stones and at 7.30am we were standing, somewhat awestruck, under William Blake's 'roofless past'.
It was a past that belonged to a farming community which had needed a place to gather and worship, to celebrate the beginning and end of life.
A henge is a ritual circular area, surrounded by a ditch then a bank. From the start, about 2,900 BC, Stonehenge was different.
Its bank was inside the ditch. A circle of 56 holes within the bank suggested it was originally made of wood.
About 500 years later 82 bluestones from Pembrokeshire were ferried around the coast of South Wales and into the River Avon at Bristol.
The stones eventually reached Wiltshire by being laboriously hauled the last two miles overland to Stonehenge.
The bluestones were set in concentric circles, but that isn't how they stayed. They were dismantled and rearranged for the third, most remarkable Stonehenge of all - the one we recognise today.
A giant horseshoe, the Great Trilithon, was created from five groups of three towering stones. This, in turn, was surrounded by a Sarsen (sandstone) Circle of 30 upright stones topped by lintels.
Andrew pointed to a fallen lintel which exposed two large mortice holes - ancient masons had secured it to the upright with a mortise-and-tenon joint.
They curved the lintels and tapered the massive uprights. Someone carved little axes here and there. They shaped the prehistoric stones into the most elaborate to be found in Europe.
A roaring fire and pecan meringue pie
I returned to the cosy drawing room, where a boxer dog toasted his backside in front of the fire and a fat tabby cat turned itself as if on a spit between the plump cushions on the sofa. Here I was joined over a glass of champagne by the German owner, Helmut Gorlich, who had taken on the hotel in a dismal state seven years earlier.
He expounded on his philosophy for his guests which, he said, was the same as he and his wife Jennifer had come to expect in a lifetime of travelling to fine hotels - comfort, peace and 'something akin to falling in love. People can come here and find each other again.' Clearly a hopeless romantic.
On the rare occasions the hotel is not full, Helmut automatically upgrades guests to the best of the 11 bedrooms available. 'To say they'll only get what they pay for is rubbish to me.'
I was tempted by his suggestion to take the short flight (a snip at £55) from Lydd airport to Le Touquet for lunch the next day - Romney Bay House is strategically placed for the first night of your journey to France. Many guests use the hotel to launch themselves into holiday mode before choosing between the Folkestone tunnel (30 minutes to Calais), ferry from Dover or the Eurostar from nearby Ashford.
Helmut's English wife is a self-taught chef and she prepared our set four-course dinner. I could manage roughly half of a marathon feast best described as above-average home cooking. A duck breast that looked a little fatty was in fact flavoursome and tender, but accompanied by an overpowering fruity sauce. They needn't have bothered with the vegetables, which suffered from a deathly grey pallor induced by too much hanging about.
However, a sexy, smelly vacherin swam off the side of the cheeseboard, and the ensuing pecan meringue with thick cream sent me into a replete slumber in my comfortable bed.
Sausages fit for a Queen
By far the most popular way to enjoy this part of Lancashire is on foot. Good boots, waterproof clothing and a stout heart serve you well here, for the walks can be challenging.
We considered a 46-mile hike through the terrain around Dunsop Bridge - recognised by the Ordnance Survey as the centre of the British Isles - but realised this wouldn't be manageable with our 17-month-old daughter.
Instead, we selected a few beauty spots to amble around, including the enchanting Trough of Bowland in the north of the Ribble Valley. This is an ancient royal hunting ground still owned by the Crown, and was probably the area to which the Queen was referring. The Inn at Whitewell, on the banks of the River Hodder, is a popular haunt for royal shooting parties, although our stay there passed without the need for curtsies.
From Whitewell we managed a precarious hop across the broad but shallow Hodder on stepping stones and went in search of fairy caves on the hill on the opposite bank. One of the locals had mentioned them to us, but we couldn't find them and decided that they were either a myth, or that they'd been filled in by the goblins.
We strolled on, charmed by a peaceful landscape that has remained unchanged for centuries, and felt as though we had somehow stumbled upon Tolkein's Middle Earth.
The local produce has gained something of a national reputation. Customers to Cowman's - Cliff Cowburn's speciality sausage shop in Clitheroe - include the Queen. The village of Chatburn is the home of award-winning ice-cream shop Hudsons and you've never tasted chicken like the corn-fed birds from Goosnargh.
It's just the thing to pack in your sandwiches for your courageous trek up Pendle Hill.
A hearty breakfast
We were a varied group. Larry, a physician from Wisconsin, and his 16-year-old son had chosen badger watching over studying basking sharks in the Irish Sea.
Ann, a retired health worker from Stratford-upon-Avon, wanted to do voluntary work that was different, while Tom, a Pennsylvanian based in Aberdeen, had been sponsored by his employer, an oil company.
A hearty breakfast of sausage, bacon and eggs (courtesy of the exotic bantams at our B&B, Grange House) fuelled us for a day in the field collecting data on other British mammals.
An initial task was to set up humane traps to catch wood mice and voles. Using bamboo poles, we marked potential sites in the long grass and traps were filled with hay for bedding, seeds and an apple.
We had a picnic lunch in brilliant sunshine outside the timber chalet where Christina works alongside Dr Chris Newman.
There we met their resident pet ferrets, Bob and Clyde. Their antics were endearing and Roger, a retired BT engineer, knocked up a wooden maze for them to play in.
Lunch over, it was eyes down to the ground to look for field signs, including animal droppings.
But the real thrill came the next day when we returned to inspect the traps.
Squeaks of excitement on finding a sprung trap were followed by squeals of apprehension as we extracted the animals - a tricky manoeuvre accomplished by enveloping the hand holding the trap in a plastic bag to prevent the tiny frightened creature from escaping.
Christina advised us to roll up sleeves to eliminate one escape route. Picking up the animals by the scruff of the necks between forefinger and thumb, we gingerly lifted them out.
Running an experienced eye over each, Christina could say whether it was male or female, pregnant or a virgin, or even whether it had recently mated.
Lunch at the Head of the River
11.00pm
At the end of Broad Street is the Bridge of Sighs, a copy of the Venetian one. Oxford's version isn't over a canal - it joins two halves of Hertford College over a narrow side street busy with cyclists. The world-famous Bodleian Library is opposite. It's free to walk through its grand paved squares, admiring Christopher Wren's Sheldonian Theatre, where students are awarded their degrees.
From the central Old School Quad a door leads to the Divinity School - often acclaimed as the finest room in Oxford because of its intricate stone carvings. Across the quad is a free exhibition room displaying interesting ancient Royal documents.
11.30pm
Stroll towards The Radcliffe Camera, a round library with a classical dome. Under the grand church of St Mary the Virgin is a tiny vaulted cafe called The Convocation House. Built in 1320, it's thought to be the oldest university building in the world. Nowadays it's a characterful place for a coffee. It's just £1.50 for the steep climb up St Mary's spire, worth it for the best view of the colleges.
12.30pm
Wander the fascinating back lanes towards the river, passing by more colleges and one of Britain's most familiar TV police stations - but don't expect to see Morse's Jaguar parked outside.
Lunch time
The long wooden balcony and riverside terrace of the Head Of The River pub make this converted waterfront warehouse a scenic spot for lunch. Enjoy the view of rowers practising and hopeless punters going round in circles.
Historical nibbles
There are several ways to discover the Civil Wars. One is to treat the many sites as historical nibbles. I find Naseby the best of these 'instant' tourist destinations.
It lies 10 minutes from the major A14 road and when I got there I had the famous field to myself.
The other way to handle the wars is to stay somewhere central such as Oxford, where Charles had his court at Christchurch College during the first Civil War from 1642 to 1646.
The city is the starting point for an English Civil War Trail just launched by the Southern Tourist Board.
Oxford has changed less than many places. One big scene in the film is shot at the Bodelian Library, that massive ancient house of books which also serves as a location in the second Harry Potter movie.
It's an appropriate site; the sensitive Fairfax saved it from pillage when he took the city.
A short trip up the M40 I found Edgehill, site of the first battle of the Civil War, just a few miles south of junction 12. I had a pint of Old Hooky in the Castle pub, built from local stone as a round tower in 1742 to mark the centenary of the battle.
Then perched on the ridge, I tried to time-warp myself back to that distant October day.
Later I took the path past where Prince Rupert led the Royalists' brave and reckless charge down the steep slope into the Roundheads' position on the open plain, which stretches north to Stratford.
Not every battle was a big set piece. The nearby village of Cropredy saw a sniping cat-and-mouse affair, with Parliament and King on opposite banks of the pretty river Cherwell.
Some called it a scoreless draw; other experts see it as the last victory won on English soil by an English king. But you need all your imagination here. Walking the quiet banks I found nothing to mark the event, only an ancient plaque built into the bridge.
No outward mythology
It turns out that Defoe only gave it a good review because the town had recently been rebuilt after the great fire of 1675.
There's no outward mythology to the place. Nothing to remember it by or plan a return visit for.
With the notable exception of Big Numbers, a graphic novel written by Northamptonian comics supremo Alan Moore (in which the town is fictionalised as 'Hampton') and Bridget Jones's parents (who live in rural Northants), books, films and culture pass it by.
My book was intended as an antidote to all those miserable childhood memoirs, the like of Angela's Ashes and Dave Pelzer's A Child Called 'It'. You see, my formative years in Northampton were happy and uneventful.
However, having completed the memoir, and peppered it with extracts from my boyhood diaries (which I kept from the age of six), I realise I have actually written a hymn to Northampton.
Despite my retrospective moans about there being nothing to do there, no gigs, no scene, no cultural landmarks, I actually love the place.
My family all still live there (indeed, to leave, as I did, and never come back is an act of civic treachery) and I visit often, although when I was invited to speak about my book at the local Waterstone's I realised I had never set foot in the place.
Northampton has, it seems, been vastly improved since I left in 1984.
I have a suspicion that they waited until I'd gone before they pedestrianised the town centre, moved Northampton Town FC to the new out-of-town Sixfields Stadium, tore up what was known as the 'bombsite car park' and refurbished the old Roadmender pub, transforming it into a creditable live music venue.
The old Mounts swimming baths is now a health suite. They never had an HMV or a Disney store or a Waterstone's when I lived there - they do now.
Swimming naked in the murky Melton depths
North Norfolk is essentially a solidly agrarian county, but it does also have wonderful country houses. Some, such as Houghton and Blickling, are Queen Anne beauties and open to the public.
Others, like the faux baroque Sennow House, built by the descendants of Thomas Cook and hidden in hundreds of acres of woods and lakes just two miles from Centre Farm, have an aura of timelessness, of nothing very much having happened here for a hundred years or so - which is mysteriously enchanting.
There are ruined houses here, too, that compel and draw you into them, still somehow redolent of the grandeur they knew in more gracious times, their sad broken brickwork and rotting chimneys sighing at their bankrupt state, yet still proud, like aristocrats who have simply fallen on hard times and will not beg for understanding.
Melton Constable is such a house. Its George I facade is achingly beautiful. It is set in a majestic parkland, landscaped with lakes and woods that might have been painted by Constable.
Director Joseph Losey shot The Go-Between here, a film which made me first fall in love with the idea of Norfolk. He filmed Alan Bates, the farm estate manager with whom Julie Christie, the squire's daughter, falls in love, swimming naked in its deep, dark lakes and Margaret Leighton plotting among the purple rhododendrons.
Various businessmen have tried to save Melton Constable. Indeed, a part of it has been converted into spacious apartments, but the main house lies ruined almost beyond any hopes of salvation - except for that facade, which strangely is as beautiful as it was in its youth. It is a haunting place.
Hotel furniture was shipped from India
If north Norfolk wasn't already shaping up as the in place to be at the moment - the likes of Stephen Fry, John Major, Les Dennis and Amanda Holden are among the list of those who have taken up residence here - the opening of the Victoria Hotel will prove an irresistible lure.
Tom and his wife Polly, Viscountess Coke, have taken the Victoria, once a rather humble pub, back into the management of the Holkham Estate.
They undertook a six-month programme of renovation and restoration with an Indian feel to the design.
The furniture and furnishings were bought on a shopping trip to India for the princely sum of £10,000 and brought back in a container.
The Victoria reopened this month as a very smart, small hotel. 'We wanted to be careful that it would retain its place as the village local,' says Viscount Coke.
'Before it reopened, locals were saying that it would be too posh for them but when they came to the opening party, people took up their old places at the bar and were perfectly happy.'
No doubt they also appreciated the fact that Tom has insisted that beer should be kept below £2 a pint.
The Vic, as it is known, is just a five-minute walk from the famous beach whose charms ought to keep most short-break visitors perfectly happy for the duration of their stay.
But five minutes in the other direction stands the extraordinary pile of Holkham Hall. Described by famously hard-to-please architectural writer Nikolaus Pevsner as the most classically correct home in Britain, Holkham Hall was originally the country seat of Lord Chief Justice Sir Edward Coke, whose criminal court duties included prosecuting Guy Fawkes and Sir Walter Raleigh.
The exquisite rooms of the house contain an extraordinary wealth of art, including paintings by Claude Lorrain, Rubens, Poussin and Van Dyck.
Preserved unchanged landscape
I find Pike Lane - no relation to the 'Stupid Boy' - and go on into Guildhall Street. The Guildhall itself, a slightly eccentric Victorian building, became Walmington-on-Sea's town hall.
After lunch I drove north, on a die-straight road, through the pine plantations of Thetford Forest via Brandon, whose village station stood in for Walmington's.
I headed for the Stanford Battle Area where, in July 1942, 118,000 acres was evacuated so troops could train in secret for the eventual invasion of Europe.
The 500 or so inhabitants of six villages - Stanford, Buckenham Tofts, West Tofts, Langford, Tottington and Sturston - were displaced.
Today, the villages are still marooned in a vast no-go area marked Danger on the map and, on the ground, with signs warning: 'Army Training Area, No Admittance Without Permit'.
Within the restricted zone the landscape has been preserved unchanged for 60 years. In this area, which you can enter only by prior arrangement, Dad's Army's military exercises were often filmed.
At Buckenham Tofts, Warden Hodges challenged the platoon to a cricket match and fielded his secret weapon, played by Freddie Trueman.
At West Tofts Church, the platoon advanced on their token enemy behind portable gravestones, and on Frog Hill the sequence which closes each episode was shot.
Getting there
How to get there:
By road: 283 miles from London, 248 miles from Birmingham, 167 miles from Bristol.
By rail: Paddington to Newquay, five hours, £33 return (subject to availability, book seven days in advance, 08457 000125).
By air: BA from Gatwick daily, from £65 return plus tax (08457 733377,www.ba.com). Ryanair daily from Stansted, from £40 return plus tax (08712 460000, www.ryanair.com).
Where to stay (prices correct at June 2003):
Gold: The three-star Headland Hotel (01637 872211) sits in isolated splendour above Fistral Beach. Edward VIII convalesced here from mumps in Room 102.
Roald's Dahl's The Witches and The Beatles' Magical Mystery Tour were filmed here. Sheltered pool and outstanding views. £75-255 per night for a double room with breakfast.
Silver: Three-star Trebarwith Hotel (01637 872288) is tucked away on the cliff top in a quiet culdesac, only a two-minute walk from the town centre. £41-71 half-board per person per night.
Bronze: Safi (01637 872800), in a commanding position above Tolcarne beach, is run by surfers for surfers. Price from £25 per night.
B&B: Kallacliff Hotel (01637 871704) is in a quiet position overlooking Lusty Glaze Beach. £19-26 per person per night.
Self-catering: Waters Edge (01637 876969), well-equipped apartments with views across Fistral Beach and Newquay Golf Course. £250-950 per apartment per week.
Dressed like fishwives
After we abandoned the T-shirt idea ('a hen party of two people?') we headed off to shop our way to clubbing success.
Stopping at Johnny Ringo's for a coffee, we had just missed a group of Welshmen on a stag night.
'Twelve lads, all dressed like fishwives - hats, overalls, everything - and one sheep. He's the groom of course,' said the doorman, who had seen them making their way to the topless dancing the Vault has on Saturday afternoons.
Tempting though the prospect was, we headed back to our hotel, where a flotilla of hens was paddling gently up and down the swimming pool.
'We're going to get hammered tonight,' said one cheerfully.
Darren had told us a night out in Newcastle is all about circuiting, a sport most Tynesiders would get an Olympic gold in.
Spending the night in just one pub is a soft Southern habit - in Newcastle you fight your way to the bars of as many pubs as you can, stopping for a bit of a dance on the way, then drain your beer and go to the next one.
Shimmering with every iridescent eyeshadow and pearlised lipstick Boots had to offer, we kicked off with a couple of drinks at Revolution.
In Newcastle terms, Revolution is pure class, serving sweet-shop shots of vodka - rhubarb and custard, pear drops and glacier mint - amid the marble pillars of a former bank.
'It's three vodkas for £4.50 but six for £7.' Which warmed us up nicely before a stomach-lining supper at Johnny Ringo's, 'you can get an extra shot of vodka for 25p'.
Paradise for wine buffs
It is a place for wine buffs and foodies and those who want to surround themselves with attention and luxury.
Despite its critics , The Vineyard has won a raft of awards including the English Tourism Council's small hotel of the year. Hanson says: "The level of competition was outstanding. It is recognition that we are doing a great job."
The founder of radio station Classic FM, Sir Peter Michael, is behind the hotel, which opened only three years ago.
It has only 31 rooms - all named after wines and lavishly decorated. It also has a small spa and swimming pool and guests can use a nearby golf course.
Nearby attractions include Highclere Castle, Newbury and its racecourse and the pretty town of Marlborough.
Fear and exhilaration
Lundy is owned by the National Trust, but unlike some NT properties, it hasn't been sanitised to oblivion by nannyish safety measures. If you want to fall over one of Lundy's numerous cliffs, you are free to do so. There are no railings, no danger signs.
A short walk from the village a gaping hole called The Devil's Lime Kiln is so terrifyingly precipitous it leaves you gasping with fear and exhilaration.
You'd be mad to take your children anywhere near, but there's nothing stopping you.
In this, as in so many respects, Lundy is a throwback to a bygone age where children were free to roam and explore, without having to worry about cars - there are none - or predatory strangers; where the thrill of rocky scrambles, perilous caves and incoming tides were part of the joy and hazard of growing up.
Of course, we worried, but it didn't stop us letting our own children wander. They were enjoying liberties they never get to taste in London. And Lundy is proud of this.
I'd recommend a pair of binoculars for the huge nesting seabird population and a kite, because the conditions on the headland near a 13th century castle, one of several converted buildings you can rent from the Landmark Trust, are perfect.
Bring a wetsuit - you can pick up children's ones for about £30 - because though the Gulf-Stream-warmed water is pretty mild by British standards, it's still not exactly the Med and there are quite a few jellyfish.
At the end of our stay, the children agreed it had been their best holiday ever. Though in years to come I bet all they'll remember is the trail of sweets we laid as an incentive to lure them on our over-ambitious mission to see the lighthouse at the far end of the island - a seven-mile round trip, not ideal with three two-year-olds.
Perhaps, though, what really made them so happy was that they had picked up on the grownups' happiness.
Sure, there had been a little sleep deprivation; sure, feeding time was like a baboon enclosure.
But Lundy has a magical ability to ease every burden and make all seem right with the world.
You see it in the faces of your fellow residents, day trippers or the handful of staff who live here all the year round.
It's the expression of people who've discovered paradise and can't believe their luck: who would have thought it lies not in the Caribbean or the Pacific but in the Bristol Channel.
Cockney cabbie tour
You can't get a more authentic taste of London than a cheeky cockney cabbie. My driver was funny, informative and a real London character.
Most guides dried up when their script ran out while stuck in a traffic jam, but cabbie Paul kept pointing out new things such as the world's narrowest house (the others sat outside without mentioning it) or telling me his views on various Royals, like: 'That Henry the Eighth, he was stark raving bonkers you know.'
There's an intercom to make chatting easier and the driver concentrates on what you are most interested in. The nippy cab has room for five to split the bill and you can be collected and dropped off wherever you want. What you see: Up to you, guv -favourite route includes Tower Bridge, Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey and St Paul's. Best joke: Alongside statue honouring General de Gaulle. 'Blimey, look at the state of his trousers!' Worst bit: Expensive if there's only one or two of you. Price: £70 per cab for two hours, can be split between five. Verdict: 10/10 Perfect introduction to history, stories and character of the city. Contact: Black Taxi Tours, 7 Durweston Mews, London W1U 6DF; 020 7289 4371 or try www.londontours.uk.com or e-mail info@blacktaxitours.co.uk
Abbey Road and The Marquee Club
Abbey Road: The Beatles' Abbey Road album cover has produced the Fab Four's most enduring image - and London's most famous rock 'n' roll landmark.
The Beatles were barely on speaking terms when they stepped on to the zebra crossing outside the Abbey Road studios in St John's Wood, North West London, for the 10-minute photo shoot in August 1969.
The cover fuelled bizarre rumours that Paul McCartney had actually died three years earlier and the cover portrayed a funeral procession: John Lennon, dressed in white was a priest; Ringo Starr, all in black, represented an undertaker while McCartney, barefoot and out-of-step, was the deceased.
Meanwhile George, in denims, embodied the grave-digger.
Originally Abbey Road was going to be called Everest - after the brand of cigarettes smoked by the engineer Geoff Emerick.
Plans to fly The Beatles to the Himalayas for a photo shoot were shelved in favour of the zebra crossing outside.
The Marquee Club: London's newest music venue has adopted the name of Soho's famous Marquee Club but it has little in common with the dive where the Rolling Stones made an impression 40 years ago.
The new Marquee Club in trendy Islington has air-conditioning and a bar/ restaurant with a Michelin-starred chef.
The club's most famous site in Wardour Street, Soho, was sweaty but atmospheric with its floors sticky from beer and sweat.
Between 1964 and 1988, 90 Wardour Street was one of the world's greatest music venues and at the forefront of every scene; R & B, psychedelia, mod, punk.
The site is now Terence Conran's Mezzo restaurant.
The Lanesborough and Harvey Nicks
THE LANESBOROUGH HOTEL, Hyde Park Corner, London SW1 (www.lanesborough.com tel: 020 7259 5599). Cost: £24.50 per person. Teatime: 3.30pm-6pm Monday-Saturday, 4pm-6pm Sunday.
Ambience: Life, as they say, is in the details and the Lanesborough makes the same case for afternoon tea, served in the serene pastel splendour of the Conservatory restaurant and complete with pianist and silver teapots. 9/10
Taste: The sandwiches featured a kaleidoscope of different coloured bread - egg-and-cress with flecked spinach bread, for example - and included a daringly retro potted chicken.
If the scones were a little dry, the raspberry jam was delicious and the crumpets piping hot and oozing with butter.
Miniature pastries, including a delightful little cheesecake, tempted the tastebuds long after we should have admitted defeat. 9/10
Service: Pleasant and attentive, if a little anonymous. Our appreciation was obvious enough for our waitress to offer us another round.
She waited until we'd finished the sandwiches before serving warm scones and crumpets. Pots of hot water arrived regularly. 9/10
Total: 27/30
HARVEY NICHOLS, Knightsbridge, London SW1 (www.harveynichols.com tel: 020 7823 1839). Cost: £12.50 per person. Teatime: 3.30pm-6pm.
Ambience: Something of a come-down after our previous tea, even at half the price - wooden tables, paper napkins and clunky white china on the 5th floor of the department store, with views of the food hall and sushi conveyor belt.
Babies were notable for their presence - and noise levels. 3/10
Taste: Oozing with neither style nor fillings, the sandwiches featured dull bread, peppery cucumber and bland egg.
The scones were large, unheated and dry, the jam was mass-market but the cream was pleasingly yellow. A large fruit tart, instead of plate jostling with little pastries, looked leaden but was rather delicious. 4/10
Service: A lack of attentiveness, but it was the first place to offer decaffeinated tea. The waitress partnered my pot of Earl Grey tea with - horror - a jug of cream. 4/10
Total: 11/30
Museums of London
V&A (www.vam.ac.uk tel: 020 7942 2000)
Former admission fee: £5
What's new: The British Galleries. Opened last November, this museum within a museum provides a chronological survey of British design from Tudor to Victorian times.
The objects - don't miss the Great Bed of Ware, a vast four-poster mentioned in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night - are sensational, and their presentation is superb. For example, by touching a screen you can take a close-up tour of the Ware bed to see the graffiti and wax seals left by past residents.
Science Museum (www.sciencemuseum.org.uk tel: 0870 870 4771)
Former admission fee: £7.95
What's new: The Wellcome Wing. Opened in 2000, it shows what's going on in science and technology today.
With a vast blue glass wall as a backdrop, the wing looks thrilling, and some of the hands-on exhibits - one reveals what your face might look like when you're older - are fun. However, you need to pay to see the highlight, the IMAX films.
Natural History Museum (www.nhm.ac.uk tel: 020 7942 5000)
Former admission fee: £9
What's new: The computer-animated tyrannosaurus and the child-oriented Investigate centre, where you can study objects with computers and microscopes.
Don't bother paying to see the mediocre Predators exhibition.
Imperial War Museum (www.iwm.org.uk tel: 020 7416 5000)
Former admission fee: £6.50
What's new: The permanent Holocaust Exhibition, opened in 2000, is gruesome, powerful and holds no punches - not recommended for children under 14.
Temporary exhibitions include The Spanish Civil War (to April 28) and The Trench (to October 27), tied in with the BBC series on life in a First World War trench.
National Maritime Museum (www.nmm.ac.uk tel: 020 8858 4422)
Former admission fee: £10.50 for the museum, the Queen's House and Royal Observatory.
What's new: Inigo Jones's Queen's House - dubbed England's first classical Renaissance building - reopened in 2001 as an art gallery, showing some of the museum's thousands of paintings.
Other free museums
Admission charges have also been dropped at The Museum of London(www.museumoflondon.org.uk tel: 020 7600 3699) and the Theatre Museum (www.theatremuseum.org tel: 0207 943 4700).
Several other major institutions, such as the British Museum and the National Gallery have, of course, always been free.
Gigantic pickled swordfish
The real draw is the tank room, where the largest preserved animals are kept. Here, in massive vats, are loggerhead turtles, conger eels and giant squid.
The most impressive specimen is a gigantic pickled swordfish, found stranded in the mouth of the River Avon. Other huge beasts include a komodo dragon and several spotted rays.
The new Darwin Centre reflects the changing role of museums. Today's visitors are just as interested in the behind-the-scenes activities as they are in the objects on display.
This presented a huge problem for the Natural History Museum, where there was room for only one per cent of the collection to be on public display.
The Darwin Centre changes all that: it allows visitors to explore the museum's huge storehouse of treasures, and also enables them to meet the scientists who work there.
The centre is offering twice-daily presentations by its researchers, and is also using ground-breaking computer technology to allow visitors to watch the scientists at work.
This will include live video link-ups with scientists at the museum's field station in Belize.
In the Victorian era, some museum workers showed rather more interest in the alcohol than in the pickled animals.
One director found it necessary to issue new guidelines to his team of scientists. 'It is advisable,' he wrote, 'to mix some disagreeable ingredient with the spirit, to deter pilferers from appropriating it.'
They would have loved the gleaming new Darwin Centre, where even the taps run with alcohol.
The free, behind-the-scenes tour is available only to over-10s. Places can be booked on arrival at the museum, and each tour lasts about 30 minutes. For more information visit www.nhm.ac.uk/darwincentre
Terry meets Julie
Pensioners getting lost, policemen in twos, pigeons in flocks and at any one time at least a dozen fond farewells and heartfelt hellos.
In Waterloo Sunset, Terry meets Julie every Friday night.
Perhaps beneath the four faces of the station clock suspended, high above, from the glass roof.
These days, Waterloo is not so much a station, more a shopping mall. I could do any number of things here, eat, drink, buy a shirt, send an e-mail, check out a Dali exhibition. There's even an impotence clinic.
Today, of course, the trains don't just go to suburban destinations carved into the war memorial arch - they leave for Paris, Brussels and Lille.
But following the Kinks you walk north across Waterloo Bridge like Terry and Julie and feel safe and sound.
Ray Davies feels safe and sound in a little pub just across Waterloo Bridge in Savoy Street called the Savoy Tavern.
I walk there, against a north wind, overtaking foreign students bent double beneath their backpacks.
The journey's worth it. An unspoilt pub in the heart of London, plain bar, bare-board floor, cream-painted panel walls - the sort of place where Ray feels comfortable.
He mentions it in his book Waterloo Sunset, which is a curious blend of autobiography, fiction and myth-making.
A girl is asked 'Who are you waiting for.' And she replies: 'The man who wrote Waterloo Sunset. I've been in the bar at the Savoy every night, just as he said, but he never comes. He's not ready to leave the underground.'
A walled oasis in the middle of London
New for 2001 is a tour around part of Buckingham Palace's garden. If you have ever seen the high walls and barbed wire that surround the grounds, it is particularly thrilling to peek inside.
Often described as a "walled oasis in the middle of London", the garden has a lake with moorhens and mallards, mature trees and lots of lawn.
Considering the traffic outside, the gardens are very peaceful.
Don't go to Buckingham Palace expecting to find out much about today's royals. It's hard to believe you are in a working palace, it feels like a museum.
Don't expect to see the Queen's bathroom or, in fact, anything more personal than portraits and lots of gilt.
At £11 a ticket, it's hardly top value, but, on the other hand, it's not every day you see inside a palace.
The Royal Mews are open throughout the year and contain the royal carriages, cars and the stables.
Don't miss the Gold Coach - it is unbelievably ornate and apparently costs £3,000 or so just to get it out of its garage!
Tickets from the ticket office are £11. The State Rooms are open August 4 to Sept 30. Royal Mews' tickets cost £4.60. Booking: 020 7321 2233.
Life's little pleasures
This last property has got scalloped bookcases, vast gilt mirrors and an atmospherically flagstoned basement with a 10 foot-long oak dining table that's as solid as a battering ram.
It's the home of a Scandinavian antiques collector who, like many of Monica's owners, finds the extra £65 a night makes life's little pleasures just that bit more accessible. 'We have all sorts,' says Monica, 'Diplomats, interior designers, city financiers, actresses, authors.' You can add artists to that list, too.
The next place I stay is an enormous mansion-block apartment in SW3, home of a charming professional painter who asks just to be called Lydia (like most owners, she'd rather not publicise the fact that she takes in paying guests). Breakfast is served on her roof garden, from where you can look down on the lawns of the Chelsea Royal Hospital and across to the Thames and Albert Bridge.
Lydia says: 'Mostly, people go out first thing in the morning and you don't see them until they come back from Cats or Phantom Of The Opera.' Her service is also a boon for nervous people. 'It gives an added sense of security to stay in the house of someone who lives in London who can steer you in the right direction,' says Keith Stables, Monica's business partner 'The addresses may be up-market, but the welcome is very down-to-earth.'
TRAVEL FACTS:
Uptown Reservations, 41 Paradise Walk, London SW3 4JL (020 7351 3445) or e-mail (inquiries@uptownres.co.uk) and properties can be viewed on www.uptownres.co.uk
No sightings of Hugh Grant
Owner Guy Parsons was unfazed about having one of the world's most famous film stars in his salon when they filmed About A Boy there last year: 'We get people like Hugh Grant in every day.
'Some of the girls who work here were dribbling with excitement but I can't say he does much for me.'
Just north of Notting Hill is Maida Vale and Will's favourite restaurant, Otto Dining Lounge, where he dines and dumps a series of women.
The film's location manager Steve Hart says: 'We wanted to put Will in cool, hip surroundings - Otto Dining Lounge was so new it hadn't even opened when we filmed there.'
Leafy Maida Vale boasts the odd celebrity like Lulu and various members of Hear'Say.
So gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling windows of Otto, on the corner of Sutherland Avenue and Edgware Road, Maida Vale, while toying with aubergine and anchovy fritters (£6.50) seemed like an excellent lunchtime activity.
But Otto is so cool it doesn't open during the day.
Still, with the help of the 98 bus, dependable old Oxford Street was open for business.
In Skechers, Will buys Marcus a pair of trainers. Packed with customers and too-blase-to-bother assistants, this was teenage-boy heaven, with blaring music to match - but I imagine Hugh Grant would have got served rather faster than I did.
Time for a late lunch. The other restaurant in the film is Hakkasan, an outrageously trendy Chinese establishment off Oxford Street in Hanway Place, where a starter of abalone in supreme stock with jelly fish costs £16.
'Do you have a reservation?' asked the receptionist, poring over the book. 'We might be able to fit you in at 11pm.'
Still, there was always London Zoo for a short stroll around the penguin pool and a statue of a dung beetle.
In Regent's Park, where Will and Marcus (played by Nicholas Hoult) met on a SPAT picnic, a tentative sun shone but no ducks died after being hit with wholemeal bread.
I'd been all over London - and it proved to be about as enjoyable a day in the capital as you could hope for, dampened only a little by absolutely no sightings of Hugh Grant.
He's in New York making a film with Sandra Bullock.
Such a cult figure
Next stop on Frankie's gangster tour is Braithway House, close to the Barbican, where Reggie and Ronnie were arrested in spring 1968 by officers led by Inspector Leonard 'Nipper' Read.
Reggie and Ronnie were given life sentences and sent to Brixton Prison. Here, they were reunited with Frankie, who'd been moved from Leicester after slamming a slop bucket over the prison governor.
'He was touring with a top Home Office official and telling him how the security was top-notch,' says Frankie. 'As he said those words, I put a bucket of crap on his head.'
One of Frankie's favourite haunts during the Sixties was the Repton Boys Boxing Club in Bethnal Green. It still exists and is one of the highlights of his tour.
The walls are lined with faded pictures of sporting heroes and old trophies. 'There used to be a photo of me up there', says Frankie, 'but it kept getting stolen.'
As Frankie's Gangland Bus heads down Bethnal Green Road, I'm amazed to discover he's still such a cult figure. It's like being with the Queen Mum. There's visible excitement as we pass, and people wave and try to shake his hand.
Frankie was once one of gangland's most revered (and feared) members. One night he was having a quiet drink in the Astor Club when a fight broke out. One of the Krays's associates - Eric Mason - threatened to tell the twins that Frankie had started the brawl. 'I was furious,' says Frankie.
'I bundled Eric inside my car and chopped him in the face with an axe.' Mason was then dumped on the steps of London Hospital, Whitechapel.
18-strong hen party
The Pan-American Club is still holding up Albert Dock's head when it comes to stylish drinking haunts; a breakfast martini - gin, cointreau and marmalade - costs £5.85, but the new bar scene has moved on to the venerable 19th Century grey stone buildings of Victoria Street.
A few years ago it was something of a lifestyle void, with little more than a Pizza Express.
Now, the Living Room has three levels to aspire to, from the ground floor restaurant, down to Mosquito in the basement and below to the even more subterranean and desirable Vampire Suite, where the air is thick with Brookside stars and footballers.
As it happened, I went to Water Street and Newz on Friday, where Atomic Kittens and the boys from Blue come to play in the screened-off booths, while a mural depicting the 1911 Liverpool General Transport Strike Committee looks down.
Upstairs, an 18-strong hen party was on display, all with poker-straight hair, St Tropez tans, minuscule mini skirts and microscopic mobile phones.
As part of champagne-swigging, glammed-up Liverpool, the city even has its own boutique hotel. The Racquet Club, which opened in May, is a particularly Liverpudlian variant, low on pretension, high on eccentricity.
It was once a gentleman's sports club in Toxteth. After it was looted and torched in the 1981 riots the members used the insurance money to relocate to the city's business area where they carved up a Victorian office building to create squash courts and billiard rooms.
This has now been reinvented as a small luxury hotel and, after nearly two years of renovations, it's bringing Frette sheets, modern art, plunge pools and sophisticated food to the lucky few.
With equal amounts of urban blight and neo-classical splendour, Liverpool is attracting film makers. Dolph Lundgren is in town to make a thriller and the city's legions of empty warehouses have been doing sterling work standing in for Manhattan.
On the train, I fell in with a group of 16 London-based hens on their way back from a blinder of a weekend.
Liverpool's successful City of Culture bid hadn't made much of an impression on them on a bar crawl that had taken them from Flanagans to RSVP and various other pubs they couldn't quite remember.
'We meant to go to one called Evolution but never quite made it,' said one eventually. 'No, it's called Revolution isn't it,' she added after some thought.
It was an understandable mistake to have made.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
The Racquet Club, call 0151 236 6676 or visit www.racquetclub.org.uk
Art is thirsty work
The rest of the gallery is worth a look, too. The permanent collection is full of masterpieces, such as Rembrandt's self portrait as a young man and A Horse Frightened By A Lion by Liverpool-born George Stubbs - acquired by the gallery for £22.50 in 1910.
Don't miss another, less well-known Beatle's work in Room 12. Hamburg Painting No 2 was painted in 1961 by Stuart Sutcliffe, the one who left the band to concentrate on his art but died tragically young.
From the Walker it is a 10-minute stroll to Tate Liverpool in Albert Dock. On the way we popped into Conservation Centre, which shows how artworks in the city are preserved and restored, and saw the Hard Day's Night gold disc seized by Customs in 1964.
Also en route is Open Eye, a small photography gallery just yards from Concert Square which, conveniently, has bars on three sides and plenty of outside seating. Art appreciation is thirsty work.
At the Tate, any gallery-weary or art-allergic teenager will perk up inside a new exhibition, Remix: Contemporary Art And Pop Music (May 24 to August 26), on the top floor, in which artists, many from the Brit-art pack, use contemporary music as inspiration for paintings, videos, sculptures and installations.
See Turner prize-winner Wolfgang Tillmans's Pet Shop Boys video, Elton John's pop video directed by Sam Taylor-Wood, Elizabeth Peyton's painting of Liam Gallagher and a portrait of well-known art collector Madonna by Dawn Mellor.
On the ground floor is the reassuringly more conventional display (static images hanging silently on walls), Pin Up: Glamour And Celebrity Since The 1960s, full of familiar faces from the music world as well as film stars and models.
Double Elvis by Andy Warhol, The Beach Boys by Peter Blake (who designed the Sergeant Pepper LP cover), portrait photographs by Linda McCartney of Mick Jagger, David Bowie and Jimmy Hendrix and a giant fabric print of Madonna by Thomas Klipper chart the changing face of fame.
Beatlemania
It's impossible to imagine now what Liverpool would be without The Beatles. The Fab Four made themselves a fortune through giving pleasure to millions, and put their city on the map for ever. Now thousands of tourists come to commune with the spirit of what was arguably the greatest of modern pop phenomena, with perhaps the exception of Elvis Presley.
The Beatles industry adds up to more than mere souvenirs; it is more like a state of mind - or rather, a state of pride. You take the famous Magical Mystery Tour from the Albert Dock, although unfortunately on the day I was there the usual replica bus was off the road so we made do with an ordinary one.
About 30 people - Americans, Italians, Spaniards, Japanese, French and British - listen to the deadpan jokes of Eddie Porter, who points out the pub where Ringo's mother Elsie worked, the road where John shared a flat with Cynthia, and so on. Between his laconic one-liners, Beatles songs blare out. Everybody wants to be photographed next to the street sign Penny Lane, which is painted on the wall now because the old signs were stolen.
When we stop at Strawberry Field children's home an American woman is moved to tears when she reads the graffiti addressed to Lennon. Later, outside Paul McCartney's home at 20 Forthlin Road (owned by The National Trust), she whispers: 'This whole thing is just spacing me out - to think that Paul actually stood here!'
The tour ends at the Cavern Club. So what if this isn't the original? It has been rebuilt identically, so you can perch on the stage and imagine the screams of the lucky girls who heard The Beatles play pure rock 'n' roll. There is a statue of The Beatles outside and an impressive 'wall of fame', showing the name of every performer who played the stifling underground venue in Mathew Street - now at the heart of a regenerated, upmarket area.
There is a gallery devoted to the art of John Lennon, a chic designer store called Wade Smith and, of course, The Beatles shop where you can buy books, CDs, vinyl discs, mugs, plates, ornaments, key-rings. The American lady and I go mad with our credit cards. You suddenly realise you can't exist without a glass with Lennon's head and 'Imagine' engraved on it.
Friendly staff
Sited on a hill, you enter the park from the top. Most people opt to take the little train down the hill to get to the rides.
There are undercover and indoor play areas, but a lot of the queues snake Disney-style into the outdoors.
The children love the performances, which range from a stunt show on water to Jack and the Beanstalk storytelling. Tip: check the programme times.
There are special events at Legoland from now until December, including June festivities for the Golden Jubilee.
The staff at Legoland are what defines it from a certain theme park near Paris.
They all seem genuinely pleased to see the children and chat and tease them. Of course, it is only the beginning of a long season, but hopefully they will keep up the friendliness.
A day at Legoland is far from cheap but it provides a full day's entertainment. If you don't live near enough to drive, there are lots of things to do nearby to make it worth a short break - not least Windsor Castle and Eton.
Tickets are £22.95 for adults and £19.95 for 3-15 year-olds. Off peak prices are £4 less and there is a £1 discount for advance booking. Phone 08705 040404 or
Enormous range of beers
We went down a little alley leading to Whitelocks, 'the place to get Yorkshire pudding', according to Kevin.
'Our mirrors are listed,' the barman told me. The etched glass reflected a low-ceilinged, long, dark bar stuffed with men in yachting anoraks and ties - real ale drinkers.
The North Bar is only a few hundred yards away. It was clearly a popular and distinguished joint, full of intellectuals, judging by the complexity of the haircuts.
'It's got an enormous range of beers.' Nick said proudly. 'Forty,' said the barman. He reached behind him into one of a row of glowing glass-fronted fridges and cradled a small dark bottle.
I peered at it. 'Samichlaus. Austria,' it said on the label. And, underneath in smaller letters, 'The Strongest Beer in the World.' They only make it every four years.
It's probably better to drink one only every four years.
But there are plenty of perfectly frivolous new drinking venues in Leeds. What are these places where the customers drink lemonade-flavoured Mickey Finns? They're not really pubs. Nor are they clubs. They are monuments to lighting fixture designers. They are bars.
In Calls Lane, Dr Wu's stands next to Oporto's and opposite Norman's, a long cave designed to look like, well, a cave, with a door at one end made of pieces of toast encased in Perspex.
In another bar, MPV, under the arches, a venue has been made out of several separate red pods.
'Pods?' 'That's what they're called,' said Nick.
They were great, bulging, plastic, scarlet things, which I had assumed, when I passed them in the daylight, were part of the Post Office but which here, around midnight, were full of skinny boys and Yorkshire sirens overflowing their cut-offs and shimmying beneath 'the biggest glitter ball in Leeds'.
An unorthodox menage a trois
Morris drew much of his inspiration from the Middle Ages. The huge covered porch - known as the pilgrims' rest - became a place for guests to relax and chat.
Nearby was a medieval-looking well which quickly became the focal point of the house. It was here that Morris's guests - writers, artists and poets - would gather to exchange ideas.
The fruits of their labours can be seen throughout the house. There are stained glass windows and giant brick hearths, turreted newel posts and Gothic arched doorways.
The huge hall cupboard is said to have been crafted by Morris himself. Its painted decoration features Morris and Janey dressed in medieval garb.
The dining room settle also dates from Morris's time and is painted in what Morris described as 'dragons' blood red'. The stairwell is the most impressive feature of the house - a swirling mass of oak with an arched ceiling painted in cobalt and aquamarine.
It leads to a high-beamed drawing room with another massive settle commissioned by Morris. On either side are exquisite murals by Edward Burne-Jones, featuring Morris and Janey at a medieval feast.
The house is surrounded by a two-acre garden which is slowly being restored with the help of old photos and letters written by the weekend guests.
Morris and Janey spent just five years in the Red House before their rustic idyll was suddenly shattered. First, Morris contracted rheumatic fever in 1865 and then he suffered a dramatic loss of income when the value of his copper shares plummeted.
There was also the huge burden of work from his ever-expanding company. He needed to spend more and more time in London.
But there was a more personal - and altogether more tragic - reason why the Morrises left the Red House. Janey had begun a passionate affair with Rossetti and the stress on Morris became intolerable.
After a difficult period in London, the three of them settled on an unorthodox menage a trois, moving to Oxfordshire. Morris was in tears when he sold the Red House. He had put everything into the building and vowed never again to set eyes on the place.
He can hardly have known that - within a few years - he'd see miniature versions of his house in virtually every street in the country.
The Red House's opening hours are 11am-5pm, Wednesday-Sunday. Pre-booked guided tours only. For bookings, call 01494 755588.
Large vaulted study
Money was never Churchill's strongest card, even as Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Chartwell was to devour much more of his and other people's wealth during the rest of his life. But it has left us with a priceless gem.
It started as an ugly duckling, a gaunt red-brick Victorian pile. With the help of a young architect, Philip Tilden, whom he badgered mercilessly, Churchill set about pulling it to pieces and creating a home that was to become an extension of the man himself.
Here is his large vaulted study, where he wrote his great histories, pacing up and down into the early hours of the morning, exhausting a succession of secretaries as he exploded with words that were to illuminate the English language.
It was also here that he practised many of his speeches, passionate outpourings of blood, toil, tears and sweat that were to equal those of Shakespeare in their ability to rouse the nation.
From his study he could look out towards the coastline of Kent, knowing that it was from this direction that any invasion would come.
He saw the threat more clearly than almost any other Englishman; you can sense his ghost still brooding at the window, worrying that the world would not listen until it was too late.
Wander along the corridor and you discover Clementine's bedroom, the most impressive room in the extension built by Tilden.
Beneath is the dining room, the headquarters of his fight against appeasement. Many people came here secretly, often illicitly, breaking the Official Secrets Act to feed Churchill with information, risking their careers to keep alive the flame of freedom.
Here they would remain until the small hours, exchanging argument and abuse, fuelling their energies with an endless supply of Pol Roget champagne and Johnny Walker whisky.
And when the black dogs of his frequent depression began to howl at him, he would take himself off to the garden to indulge in his hobby of bricklaying, or spend hours in his studio with brushes and canvas.
Picnicking on the downs
It was time for a picnic. We studied the map. Some tightly bunched contours around Garstons Down indicated a steep slope, with plenty of shelter out of the west wind.
From the top we had two views. First the island's own downs, studded with farms and old thatched cottages. Then The Solent and the mainland, with more hills and down-land marching away into Hampshire in one direction, and down into Dorset in the other. We took the path north through the water meadows in a wide valley, past Froglands Farm and Lukely Brook to the foot of Carisbrooke Castle, brilliantly lit by the evening sun.
'Whoever controlled Carisbrooke controlled the Isle of Wight,' said our helpful English Heritage handbook. Charles I was the castle's, and the island's, most famous prisoner; less distinguished inmates have to make do with Parkhurst to the north.
The people from the council had helpfully arranged a list of walks, one for each of the island's different types of landscape. One, the Freshwater Trail, was waiting for us in Yarmouth when we stepped off the ferry from Lymington.
For the best 'historic landscaped estates' (with Charles I associations) they suggested the farm around Nunwell, and the park at Appledurcombe. For 'autumn colour' we could try a walk from Gatcombe Church to Chillerton. Brook Downs was good for 'downs and sea views'. Briddlesford to Wootton was best for 'Victorian rural landscape'.
We could rely on there being a footpath to take us to all English Heritage's historical sites. EH has moved away from the dull old style of stately home promotion. For example, in their latest handbook, the symbol over 18th century Appledurcombe House is a heart, which stands for 'romantic ruin'.
Similarly, the soaring bird symbol for St Catherine's Oratory on the south coast denotes a site 'far from the crowd'. This 14th-century lighthouse commands the highest point of the island.
Best is saved for last
The Deep's ambition is to tell the story of the oceans 'in time, depth and latitude'. So best not to arrive just before closing time.
After a quotation from Genesis, the first thing you see is a computer generation of the Big Bang.
Then a long sloping walkway under a wall of 3D fossilised sea monsters takes you past vast aeons of time.
A series of presentations on the latest plasma screens takes up the tale.
One screen tempts you to design your own creature and see it swim in a virtual ocean.
Mine, a concoction of misshaped fins and awkward flippers, lost its first battle and became extinct.
Then we hit the serious water. The glass-sided Coral Reef tank serves up flying gurnard and bonnet head, a bonsai version of the hammerhead shark.
The best is saved for last. The 10-metre deep, 2.5million-litre Endless Oceans tank contains seven species of shark and as many fish of many colours as you could expect to see anywhere, indoors.
A series of small side tanks focus on a species or theme. In the camouflage tank one angular customer does a good imitation of a lemon that has swallowed a box.
Time will tell if the Deep becomes the international attraction Hull hopes it will be but the council is quietly confident. A million people a year pass through for the ferry to Europe.
Fill up on tea and antiques
By 10.30am, Betty's famous teashop had a queue of wax jackets snaking out of the door, enticed by the smell of freshly ground coffee and newly baked cakes. Waitresses in black with white frilly aprons rushed around with tiered cake-stands loaded with toasted pikelets (thin crumpets), fat rascals (hot buttered buns) and parkin (ginger-flavoured cake made with black treacle and oatmeal).
Well stoked up, we set off for a spot of 'antiquing'. It's impossible to count the number of opulent shops in Montpellier district. We bought something from John Weatherell, who sends three vanloads to London each week.
By lunchtime the pubs were packed, the restaurants turning people away. Fortunately we'd booked at the fun fish restaurant, the Drum And Monkey in Montpellier Gardens, enjoying delicious crab cocktails and salmon-trout with asparagus hollandaise, at a price so low it would make a Londoner weep.
Back then to our stately home from home, Nidd Hall, a hotel with the biggest indoor pool I've ever seen, for a rest.
Harrogate, on the edge of the Yorkshire Dales, is perfect for visiting the sets of Heartbeat, Emmerdale and All Creatures Great And Small. Nearby is the World Heritage site of the ruins of medieval Fountains Abbey. The Cistercian abbey is breathtaking, the vast vaulted ceiling of the 300ft-long West Range unforgettable. Clambering down to the abbey and going around it gave us a long, rewarding walk, essential after Harrogate's gastronomic delights.
National Maritime Museum
Meanwhile, just £20 million (a drop in the ocean compared with the Millennium Dome) has created a splendidly revamped celebration of our sea-going heritage at the National Maritime Museum.
See the royal barge on which George I listened to Handel's water music, an exhibition on the exploration of Antarctica and even the uniform worn by Nelson when he was killed at the battle of Trafalgar.
Cross Trafalgar Road and for the first time in nearly two centuries the public may once again enter Wren's magnificent domed buildings and see the plaque that marks the spot where a grateful nation filed past their great admiral's body.
You might be forgiven for spending little time looking down, however, for the hall itself is one of London's least-known artistic treasures, a painted chamber second only to the Banqueting Hall in Whitehall.
Underneath the second dome, and reached by an underground passageway, is the old hospital's chapel. Dating from 1789, it was the scene for the second set of nuptials in Four Weddings And A Funeral.
But what of the other Dome? It may be empty, but the site is far from abandoned. As South-East London's only Tube stop, North Greenwich (Building of the Year 2000) is awash with commuters. And all around, the saplings have turned into trees; the cinema has opened and the first homes have been occupied. Greenwich may be blooming after all. Time to take down the tent?
My Cousin Rachel walk
Built in the 18th century on wild Bodmin Moor, this old coaching inn offers a great cobbled courtyard, roaring log fires and an inglenook fireplace.
It has rather latched on to its du Maurier connection with a presentation of Jamaica Inn in sound and light tableaux, a collection of smuggling artefacts and a room packed with memorabilia, including the author's writing desk.
Quite what she would make of this, no one knows.
But her son, Kits, thinks she'd be chuffed. As he says: 'If mum could be beamed down at the age of 20 again, when she started to write, she'd be joining in with the fun and would be incredibly pleased and proud, so long as she didn't have to take part.'
So, what was on offer at the Festival? Well, there were plenty of du Maurier events.
Top of the list are Lynn Goold's guided walks.
The Rebecca Walk takes you to Polridmouth Cove, setting for the shipwreck scene in Rebecca, and offers a glimpse of her house, Menabilly, hidden by screens of trees.
Describing it as her 'elusive house of secrets', she lived there for 26 years.
Nowadays, as Lynn explains, Menabilly is privately owned and the owner doesn't like fans slipping through the hedge with cameras.
The My Cousin Rachel walk is a chance to discover the Barton countryside featured so vividly in the novel, and ends with a scrumptious farmhouse tea at Coombe Farm.
At strategic points along the walks, Lynn reads aloud passages from Daphne's novels, raising her voice to be heard above screeching gulls.
Midsummer night's surprise
Bang in central Exeter I discovered a charming, small hotel, St Olaves. Positioned perfectly two minutes from the shops and the cathedral, it is quiet, luxurious, friendly and dishes-up dinners to dream about.
I recommend you take advantage of the excellent free City Walks with a Red Coat Guide. I opted for the Ghosts And Legend walk with guide Sandra Mutton, who carried a sprig of rosemary to ward off malevolent spooks.
Our little group walked along cobbled streets, past the Royal Clarence Hotel, once Sir Walter Raleigh's townhouse, and now home to a coughing spirit and a grey lady who peers forlornly from a certain window.
It is a minor miracle that so much of old Exeter remains to be enjoyed. In 1942, when German bombers roared up the Exe estuary, the city was badly blitzed and the cathedral took a direct hit. Happily the damage was repairable and the building, dating mostly from the 14th century, remains one of the wonders of England.
It's a weird sensation emerging from the cathedral and plunging straight into the 20th century shops. Go to Gandy Street and Paul Street for designer togs and fashionable household accessories. The shabby-looking Fore Street springs a few surprises including Feathers for bespoke bridal and ballgowns, and a rather peculiar fancy-dress shop strictly for adults.
Speaking of surprises, I discovered that the Northcott Theatre had transformed the wooded moat of the Rougemont Castle gardens into a superb open-air set for a terrific performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream. And the rain held off all night.
Tolkien's favourite walks
The Ribble Valley is at its best on a crisp winter's day. It's a quiet and cloistered place - ancient, calm and not a little eccentric.
Scattered across the landscape there were green mounds too big to be manmade burial mounds but too small, surely, to be hills. They were rounded and bovine - as if a herd of giant green cows were slumbering in the fields.
We walked past an old iron bath, dug into the hillside beneath a spring, the water from which filled it before trickling over the top and on down to the river.
The river was a good 40 yards across and, way out in the middle and up to his chest in it, an angler stood casting his line. On the riverbank a sleek, grey heron was also doing a spot of fishing.
This was one of Tolkien's favourite walks. He would amble along here to the spot where a passenger ferry used to cross the Ribble, at the point where it is joined by two other rivers - the Calder and the Hodder.
It hasn't run since the Fifties, but it was here in Tolkien's day and he used it as the inspiration for the Buckleby Ferry, which Frodo and friends take to leave the Shire and enter the Old Forest. The boathouse was dismantled and taken to the museum in Clitheroe.
We sat on the bank, looking across to the imposing Elizabethan pile of Hacking Hall. It is Brandy Hall in the book, and Mitton Wood, the dark, conifer groves behind it, became the start of the Old Forest.
As we headed north we were now following the Brandywine River (aka the Hodder) and it really is the colour of brandy. We passed an earthen mound which, in the book, becomes the long barrow which swallows up Frodo.
At Winckley Hall Farm the path turned inland, wound through the farmyard and crested a rise. Suddenly, before us, Stonyhurst appeared in stately splendour.
Before heading to it we took a quick detour to Tolkien's Brandywine Bridge, which takes his Great East Road (the B6243 to you) across the river.
It's really Lower Hodder Bridge and, beside it, is the ominously named Devil's Bridge, the three arches still standing, its sides removed, it is said, by Cromwell so he could get his carts over as he went about subjugating a local Catholic stronghold. At Stonyhurst, he rested - sleeping, the story has it, in full armour on a table. They have the table on display. Stonyhurst marked almost the end of our walk.
Other clubs
Liverpool's museum also opens each day. Pride of place goes to their four European Cups. They are working on a plan to recreate their famous Boot Room. Let's hope they can include the smell.
West Ham's new museum has officially opened to the public. It cost £4 million and boasts the personal collections of Moore, Hurst and Peters.
Glasgow Celtic's museum, among other excitements, has a 1903 jersey - historic stuff, as that was the first time they wore green hoops.
Rangers, as yet, have no separate museum, just a stadium tour and a look at their trophy room.
The Scottish Football Museum is in the newly developed Hampden Park, though its collection has been displayed elsewhere for some years. It is very strong on old shirts, boots and cups.
Scotland invented the passing game and provided the first professionals and it was a Scotsman, William McGregor, who suggested the English Football League, the world's first.
England's national museum is at Preston, under the stand in the newly developed Deepdale, home of Preston North End, very handy for the M6 two miles away. The National Football Museum opened last year but I've been saving it up till now as a treat for myself.
You have, of course, to be interested in football history to appreciate the 1,000 items on show, such as an England shirt worn in 1872 against Scotland in the world's first international.
They have nicely combined the educational side, putting football in a social context, showing Dick Kerr's women's team of the Twenties against suffragette images, with lots of fun stuff such as interactive displays and games on TV.
It cost £15 million. No foreign country has its own national football museum, but it has had recent visits by officials from Brazil, Germany and Norway, who are all planning their own versions.
The museum had hoped for 80,000 visitors in this first year but, alas, managed only 40,000.
Inside, it is huge, and spectacular, but from the outside it looks nondescript, more like a shop, and the FM logo is too cute and gets lost. That may deter people. So might the fact that it's in Preston.
But as all football historians know, being in Preston is justified. They were one of the 12 founder members of the Football League in 1888 and won the league, without being beaten - a record still standing - and the FA Cup that same season, becoming known as The Invincibles. But Preston itself is not otherwise much of an attraction.
Perhaps another problem is the football psyche. Becks has not been there, nor any present-day national football star, but all the surviving members of the 1966 team have.
All football fans, and all those interested in our social history, should go to the National Football Museum. Make it number one on your football tour. You'll be over the moon, Brian.
Amateur experts
Steam Dreams is what they call the company behind Cathedrals Express and its chairman is enthusiast Marcus Robertson.
He comes from noted parents: Max Robertson, his father was for 40 years a BBC tennis commentator and is still at Wimbledon every year. His mother Elizabeth Beresford created The Wombles.
I recall having a lively lunch with them once in Alderney at the house of John Arlott, the great cricket commentator and writer. Marcus has railways in his blood, however.
'My grandfather Allan left public school and amazed everyone by deciding to become a train driver,' he told me. 'He eventually drove an express for the Indian railways but was sacked for not permitting a visiting maharajah to take over on the footplate.'
Colin Kerswill said: 'You can never get steam out of your system. My father was an engine driver before me, 41 years on the company. When he retired he could not stay away from it, so he took a pub at Faversham - the Railway Arms.'
By this time we were heading out of London through summery Kent: cut cornfields, redroofed farmhouses, white-walled cottages, coppices and even some hopfields.
At every station, at every approaching 'toot', people stared. Some coughed in the smoke.
Amateur experts crouched over their cameras and their notebooks, children at level crossings called, car drivers suddenly found something to cheer them, a woman fluttered a duster from a window in a thatched roof.
At Ashford International hard-hatted men building the new super-terminal turned to see us. One tipped over his wheelbarrow.
'We're being held up a little,' said Marcus Robertson laconically. 'Eurostar is in front.'
A place for all seasons
Visitors descend in droves to see the rhododendrons in spring, the butterflies in summer, the startling red Acers in autumn and branches laced with winter frost.
There are more than 18,000 specimens of woodland plants, some miniature, others gargantuan, reaching up 100ft or more. There are 17 miles of paths to get lost in, and a long winter walk is guaranteed to blow away the out-of-season blues.
In autumn, it is compulsory to visit the Acer Glades, a canopy of Japanese maples which turn a vibrant red and gold. In winter, Westonbirt puts on its very own light display. The Enchanted Wood is a kind of son-et-lumiere set in trees.
A thousand coloured lights illuminate the night trail, freeze-framing the forest against the pure black winter sky.
Many local families come armed with torches and go home exhilarated - often with a freshly grown Christmas tree stuffed into the back of the car. Many saplings planted in the 19th century have become the 'champion trees' of today, the fruit of a 170-year-old vision. It's a vision which continues to inspire the young and old - and even the woman behind the counter in Boots.
TRAVEL FACTS:
Westonbirt Arboretum is three miles south west of Tetbury on the A433 in Gloucestershire. It is open every day from 10am to 5pm. For details, telephone 01666 880220 or visit website www.westonbirtarboretum.com
Agents and spies
Other films and TV series featuring National Trust properties include:
JOHNNY ENGLISH
The Rowan Atkinson 007 spoof, inspired by his successful Barclaycard TV commercials, also stars John Malkovich and Natalie I mbruglia.
The film uses Trust properties at Hughenden Manor, Buckinghamshire, and St Michael's Mount in Cornwall.
Hughenden Manor, High Wycombe HP14 4LA (tel: 01494 755573)Home of Victorian Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli from 1848 to his death, it was his retreat from the rigours of parliamentary life in London. Most of his furniture, books and pictures are still on show. The garden is a recreation of the design by Disraeli's wife, Mary Anne.
Open daily except Mondays and Tuesdays from 1pm to 5pm until November 2. Admission: £4.50 per adult, £2.25 per child, £11.50 per family.
St Michael's Mount Marazion, Nr Penzance TR17 OEF (tel: 01736 710507)Approached by a causeway at low tide, the castle on top of this rocky island dates back to the 12th Century. Converted into a private house in the 17th Century, it contains fascinating early rooms, an armoury, a rococo Gothic drawing room and a 14th Century church with views towards Land's End and the Lizard.
Open daily from Monday to Friday from 10.30am to 5.30pm until October 21. Admission: £4.80 per adult, £13 per family.
CAMBRIDGE SPIES
Much of the four-part BBC2 drama Cambridge Spies, telling the story of Philby, Burgess and Maclean (starring Sam West, Tom Hollander and Toby Stephens) was filmed at Waddesdon Manor, Nr Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire. (tel: 01296 653211)
A Renaissance-style chateau, it was created by Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild in the 1870s. It has a unique collection of 18th Century French objets d'art including buttons, gold boxes, cabinets, carpets and porcelain.
There are also magnificent portraits by Gainsborough. The rococo revival Aviary is home to breeds of exotic birds and the wine cellars contain thousands of bottles of vintage Rothschild wines.
Open daily from 11am to 4pm until November 2 except Mondays and Tuesdays. Admission: timed tickets only. £7 per adult, £6 per child. Nicholas Nickleby
Billy Elliot star Jamie Bell takes the lead in this film version of the Dickens novel, also featuring Jim Broadbent, Tom Courtenay and The National Trust property, Gibson Mill.
Gibson Mill/Hardcastle Crags, Estate Office, Hollin Hall, Crimsworth Dean, Hebden Bridge HX7 7AP The old water mill is set in Hardcastle Crags, a lovely valley with deep ravines and tumbling streams surrounded by woodland where you may stumble across huge anthills, home to the hairy wood ant. Waymarked walks lead through the valley and link the footpaths with the Pennine Way.
Gibson Mill is closed but Hardcastle Crags is open all year. Admission: Car park midweek £1.50, weekend £2.
Regal colour scheme
Visitors enter through the Ambassadors' entrance - on the left if you are standing in front of the Palace - and exit into The Quadrangle, which you can't see from The Mall.
The Palace isn't as solid as it appears from the outside; in fact, it consists of four wings built around a central courtyard.
The State Rooms are in the rear section overlooking the garden.
The regal colour scheme of the State Rooms is set in the Grand Hall, where there is a red carpet, and cream and gilt.
But nothing prepares the eye for the fairytale setting of the curving Grand Staircase, with its theatrically ornate bronze balustrade. You go up one bit to a half-landing where the staircase splits. It's a sight one's unlikely to forget in a hurry.
Up on the first floor, highlights include the Picture Gallery and the Music Room.
The narrow, 50m-long Picture Gallery, with an arched glass ceiling, is a privilege to see. At one point you can stand between two paintings by Canaletto. If you close your eyes you can imagine the dreamy setting the gallery must have made for the 80th birthday dinner given by the Prince of Wales for the late Lord Menuhin.
Norfolk to Nottingham
THE HOSTE ARMS The Green, Burnham Market, Norfolk PE31 8HD Tel: 01328 738777.
The village of Burnham Market, dubbed Chelsea-on-Sea, has earned its name via the sophistication of the people who holiday on the wild Norfolk coast, yet it retains a strong local identity.
There's a lively buzz at The Hoste that derives from owner Paul Whittome's shrewd distillation of the best of both these worlds. He spent two years trawling hotels all over England to create his own from his impressions of their best features. His idea works.
The historic building is both a village pub and a hotel with an excellent restaurant. There are five separate dining areas - choose the one that suits your inclinations, dress up or go in straight from sailing.
In the bar the likes of actor Stephen Fry and restaurateur Rick Stein rub shoulders with locals, including a pair of brothers from the next village who have been drinking on alternate nights at The Hoste for more than 30 years.
When Paul asked why they never came on the same night, they said because they only had the one bike.
He's carried out endless improvements over the 10 years since he took on the hotel. He's built a conservatory, extra bedrooms and a white garden.
Paul comes across as a big, bluff, bear of a man, affability itself. Being somewhat deaf, when on a rare occasion a guest complained at length about a meal he replied: 'Oh good, I'm so glad you enjoyed it.' No one is faintly deceived; Paul doesn't miss a trick and that's why his hotel is such fun to stay in.
LANGAR HALL Langar Hall, Langar, Nottinghamshire NG13 9HG Tel: 01949 860559
Imogen Skirving, owner of Langar Hall, in Nottinghamshire, believes a hotel should be fantasy.
In tribute to Barbara Cartland, who stayed every year en route from Scotland, she created the Barbara Cartland bedroom, a profusion of pink toile de jouy in which she used to hold court with her Pekinese and invite Imogen in 'for a gossip'.
The hotel has also won a Good Hotel Guide Cesar award for 'utterly enjoyable mild eccentricity'.
'I used to serve champagne wearing my Wellingtons,' Imogen remarked, 'but I don't do that any more.'
The elegant hall was built in 1837 and Imogen grew up there before inheriting it from her father, but without a penny for its upkeep.
Her background in the art galleries of Paris and London made her an ideal curator of Langar's paintings and furniture, but to keep it as her home she began a B&B business. Guests loved the house, its classic parkland setting and Imogen's welcoming style so much that they returned, and Langar evolved into the charming hotel it now is.
Langar is run by Imogen and chef/business partner Toby Garratt with seamless efficiency and profits have been poured back into creating 12 pretty bedrooms.
There's an intimate study almost touching the church next door, a white sitting room and the restaurant in a pillared hall where food is better than at many grander hotels. Imogen's latest triumph, Paul's Bar, is named after Paul Smith, the designer and frequent guest.
Visitors stopped coming
Mr Blair was here out of guilt, knowing what appalling damage was caused last year by foot and mouth.
Four million animals were slaughtered nationally - 1,343,141 of them in Cumbria.
The Lakeland tourist industry lost £400 million after the fells were closed and visitors stopped coming.
Working lives were ruined as well as animal lives lost.
Where we live at Loweswater, not far from Cockermouth, at the western edges of Lakeland, our particular valley was not affected, not directly anyway, as foot and mouth did not reach our local sheep.
Nor did they have to be culled. It might have been better if they had, as there would have been decent compensation.
What happened was that no animals could be moved, in or out, bought or sold. So for a whole year, our local farmers had no income.
Cumbria bore the brunt of what was a national disaster so we were all pretty cheesed off last summer when Mr Blair chose not to spend part of his holidays here.
Mr Blair wants to boost Cumbrian tourism, try to make up for all the losses, which is jolly good of him.
It might well be simply a gesture, a political expediency, as many cynical Cumbrians have observed, but he has been well advised in his choice of destination.
Lakeland proper has many and obvious delights; Ullswater, Windermere and Coniston to sail upon, Scafell and Skiddaw to climb, the homes of Wordsworth and Beatrix Potter to gape at, stunning views to enjoy in every valley.
They will all survive, as they have done in the past, without the PM's help.
Kennet-Avon and Leeds-Liverpool
KENNET AND AVON - One of the most beautiful and popular routes on the network.
One week: Bristol to Crofton via Bath and Wiltshire villages. See John Rennie's classical Avoncliff aqueduct (built 1804), the steep 16-lock Caen Hill flight and the Bruce Tunnel.
Weekend: From Bristol to Bath via the mellow stone waterfront homes of Cleveland.
Operator: Anglo Welsh Waterway Holidays (tel: 0117 924 1200; www.anglowelsh.co.uk) from £515 per week or £335 for a long weekend.
LEEDS AND LIVERPOOL CANAL - The most dramatic, diverse and longest English canal.
One week: Silsden to Blackburn via the Yorkshire Dales. Highlights are the medieval market town of Skipton and the Burnley Mile (which carries the canal 60ft above the historic industrial town).
Weekend: From Silsden heading east to Saltaire. Highlights include the model 'worker's village' built by Sir Titus Salt in 1850, now housing the world's largest collection of works by local boy David Hockney.
Operator: Silsden Boats (tel: 01535 653675; www.silsdenboats.co.uk). From £530 for a week in October or £340 for a long weekend.
Zigzag forehead scar
At Pickering station they can't resist though and in a corner of the souvenir shop they have pasted up two newspaper cuttings showing Harry Potter on the railway, and are selling one or two items of Potter merchandise, including a rather handy zigzag forehead scar.
The North York Moors Railway - or the Harry Potter Line as a marketing guru might recommend it is swiftly renamed - is a splendid way to see some breathtaking scenery.
It runs for 18 miles north east from Pickering, taking a valley route which shelters it below the bleak moorland. It forges a way, engineered by George Stephenson in 1836, through deep and rocky gorges and fords, cuts through woodland, spans valleys and stops a few miles short of the seaside town of Whitby.
I decide to stay on the train, passing through the Forbidden Forest, and head for Hogsmeade. In Muggle-speak the Forbidden Forest is called Cropton Forest. The train was filmed steaming through on its way to Hogsmeade - or Goathland, to give it its Muggle name.
Goathland is a pretty, stone-built moorland village strung out for a mile along a lush green ridge in the North York Moors National Park. It's a steep climb up to it and the train labours asthmatically, its smoke getting greyer and greyer as it puffs into the station.
Here at Goathland, Harry and a couple of hundred extras stream off the train, climb over the footbridge and head off to Hogwarts.
For more than a decade, Goathland has been the home of the ITV drama series Heartbeat, set in the 1960s in a moorland village called Aidensfield. It's a star-struck place this. Why, only a couple of weeks before Harry Potter passed through, Gwyneth Paltrow was here filming Possession. They should rename it Hollywood-on-the-Moors.
Goathland is like an actor who likes to remain in character even when not performing. The pub, the Goathland Hotel, carries a sign proclaiming its screen name - The Aidensfield Arms.
Opposite is Mostyns Garage (aka Aidensfield Garage). You can still get a drink in the pub, but you can't get your car fixed at Mostyns. Dressed like a film set, with an old Morris Minor up on the ramp, its business today is selling souvenirs. There is an E-reg Cavalier for sale, though, at £200. One day soon, I predict, shiny new broomsticks will be lined up on the forecourt.
Recovering from foot-and-mouth
"Cycling is the one thing that the East of England really stands out for, we've got the best here," reckons regional tourist board chairman Jonathan Bowman.
Even so, the area suffered during last year's foot-and-mouth crisis when the countryside was sealed off to visitors, although cycling was possible on roads.
A new Lords of the Manor route opening in North Norfolk this summer aims to draw cyclists back to the region.
Tour operator Suffolk Cycle Breaks saw overseas bookings plummet in 2001 post foot-and-mouth and September 11.
"The phone didn't ring for a month after September 11, except for the occasional call," says owner Andy Patton. "Having said that, we had our best year yet for UK bookings."
He adds: "Overseas bookings accounted for about a third of business and we're working on getting more to come."
Cycling even along Norfolk's flat roads leaves you saddle-sore if unused to it - and it's worse hours later.
That's the down side. On the up, you've got the freedom to go where you want, lock up and leave your mount on a whim, and see pretty corners of the county.
Norfolk is manageable for any age. One man who hadn't been on a bicycle for 50 years managed 12 miles in The Brecks during the week he was there.
Both bicycle day hire and weekly cycle packages are possible in East England.
Suffolk Cycle Breaks (01449 721555) has 16 B&B packages in the region, from £133 for two nights.
Website www.visitnorfolk.co.uk has more on local attractions Oxburgh Hall, Grimes Graves, EcoTech Centre and Iceni Iron Age village at Cockley Cley. Ring the regional tourist board on 01473 822922.
Norfolk and Yorkshire
THE OSTLER'S HOUSE, Hedenham, Norfolk. Tel: 01386 701177, www.ruralretreats.co.uk
How's this for escapism? A strikingly decorated and furnished cottage with a wood-burning stove in the sitting room, an abundance of beams and vaulted ceilings and a private garden overlooking the grounds of a fine Elizabethan house.
Ostler's, part of a renovated Tudor barn, is one of three detached 15th-century cottages standing in the grounds of privately-owned Hedenham Hall.
It has a beamed, en suite bedroom complete with canopied bed. You can enjoy walks in the private grounds and the handsome city of Norwich is close by. There is even a spare bedroom for friends.
Add the generous welcome hamper - wine, cheese, milk, tea, coffee and groceries - and you have all you need.
THE WHITE SWAN, Pickering, Yorkshire. Tel: 01751 472288.
We arrived at this old stone inn after a cold, wild day on the North York Moors and were instantly enveloped in warmth and light.
It was bliss sipping walkers' reward - whisky and ginger wine - in front of the toasty-hot log fire in the snug.
This family-owned coaching inn, built as a four-room cottage in 1532, has had a makeover. When Victor and Marion Buchanan left high-flying City jobs to take over from Victor's parents, they brought a touch of southern luxury with them.
The welcoming atmosphere and traditional comfort remain, but now, new bathrooms sparkle and bedrooms are crisp, fresh and nicely co-ordinated.
Good local food, including fish and game, is praised by locals as well as visitors; the wine list is serious.
And there are all those romantic walks on the Moors.
Eye-drenching beach
Another ferry - across to the Isle of Harris off the west coast of Scotland - will get you to the Scarista House Hotel. The views are eye-drenching. The beach is two or three miles of pure white sand and you will probably be the only person on it.
The bay curves away in a gentle crescent, with ridges running down to a turquoise sea and golden sunsets. Ian (an ex-merchant banker) and Jane (a mildly eccentric artist) Callaghan abandoned London to retreat here.
There are shuttered windows, coal fires, rugs on bare oak floors, driftwood and cricket bats in the lobby, and superb organic food.
There are books into which you may retreat and the nicest Gaelic-speaking staff. Had this place been little more than a shack I would have included it - for that beach.
The beach below the Romney Bay House on the South Coast is not in the same league. It is mere shingle. Yet some of us delight in sinking our feet into shingle.
The house was designed by Clough Williams-Ellis, the creator of Portmeirion in North Wales. He did it for the Hollywood gossip columnist Hedda Hopper.
The whole building, now owned by Jennifer and Helmut Gorlich, has a lingering Twenties house-party feel.
You help yourself to drinks, unwind with a book in front of the fire, go for long beach walks and fall in love - with the place or with fellow guests.
The sofas are deep, the conservatory is where you eat Jennifer's afternoon tea and superb dinners.
Jennifer's enthusiasm mingles with Helmut's sense of humour to make this a very special place indeed.
Where to eat and what to do
Where to eat: Gold: La Roche Brasserie in The Haven Hotel (01202 707333) at the mouth of Poole Harbour takes the honours in a town that is rich in fine dining opportunities.
Siver: Storm (01202 674970) in the High Street has the freshest fish in the area. Owner Peter Miles works as a prawn fisherman by day before donning his chef's hat at night.
Old fishing lamps hang from the ceiling and the walls are decorated with seascapes.
Bronze: The Warehouse Brasserie (01202 677238) is on the first floor of an old warehouse on The Quay and is favoured by clients of the Sunseeker yard on the opposite side of the water. It specialises in fresh fish.
Best cream tea: La Plaza (01202 678600) in the High Street is in an impressive Georgian house dated 1704.
Where to partyPoole is publand, not clubland. The Custom House (01202 676767)on The Quay used to be just that, but is now a popular cafe and bar.
The minimalist Oyster Quay (01202 668669), also on The Quay, is a classic example of the town's regeneration.
What to doMonkey World (0800 456600) at nearby Wareham is a 65-acre ape rescue centre. Open daily 10am-5pm (6pm July and August). Adults £7, Children £5.50. Family ticket, £21.
Heritage Coast Cruise (0800 0960695) is a daily one-hour boat trip through the harbour, with views of Brownsea Island, Sandbanks, Studland and Old Harry Rocks. Adults £5, children £3.
Compton Acres Gardens (01202 700778), between Poole and Bournemouth, includes water gardens, a deer sanctuary, restaurants and a model railway exhibition. Open daily. Adults £5.45, Children £3.95.
Poole Pottery (01202 668681) attracts a million tourists a year to The Quay. Open daily, 9am-5.30pm (Sun 10.30am-4.30pm).
Waterfront Museum (01202 262600) is housed in one of the oldest medieval buildings in Poole. It tells the story of the town's seafaring past. Open April to October, Mon-Sat 10am-5pm; Sun 12-5pm. November to March 10am-3pm; Sun 12-3pm. Admission free.
Brownsea Island (01202 707744) is a tranquil oasis of 500 acres of heath and woodland in Poole Harbour. Brownsea Island Ferries (01929 462383) operate from Sandbanks and Poole Quay. Adults £3.50-£5.50, children £2.50-£3.50. Landing fee: adults £3.70, children £1.70. Family landing tickets for two adults and up to three children, £9.
Best beach: Poole has held Blue Flags for 14 years, stretching for three miles towards Bournemouth. The locals favour Branksome Chine.
Best thing: The resort is so spread out and the beach so long that overcrowding is never a problem.
Worst thing: Not being able to afford a Sunseeker yacht.
A ginger-beer tasting
Corfe has an eerie mystery. I can see why the broken hulk that now seems to tumble down the hillside captured Blyton's imagination.
It became a ruin 350 years ago when Parliamentary troops blew it apart to ensure that it could never be lived in again. Their destruction has created a melancholy beauty.
Fallen walls are lodged against those still standing, arches are split in two as if ripped apart by giant hands and every doorway and window opens on to sky.
For Enid Blyton Day marquees had gone up on the grassy slope of the outer bailey and families with notebooks and pens crawled over the ruins looking for clues in the Secret Password Hunt.
In one tent there were screenings of black-and-white episodes of Five On A Treasure Island (1957), part of which was filmed at Corfe Castle.
In another were stalls of Blyton collectables, plus a ginger-beer tasting.
Local author Viviene Endecott signed copies of a new booklet, The Dorset Days Of Enid Blyton.
'I was sick of everyone always associating literary Dorset with Thomas Hardy, someone who we had to study at school, but never mentioning the connection with Enid Blyton, who we had all read for pleasure,' she says. She also runs Famous Five weekends for small groups.
It's true that the area has done little to trumpet its relationship with one of the world's best-known children's writers. The National Trust - which also owns Brownsea Island - has taken the first step by installing a model of 'Kirrin Castle' in a window outside Corfe Castle.
The village of Corfe retains its charm: houses snuggle around the hill. The station, a stop on the popular Swanage Railway, is a pristine example of the way things used to look: freshly swept platforms, smartly dressed porters, luggage trolleys, a tin advert for Oxo on a cream-painted picket fence, neat hedges and a stationmaster's house.
Where to stay and eat
Where to stay: All accommodation can be booked through the Tourist Information hotline (tel: 01305 269035). Prices per person per night, unless stated otherwise and correct in May 2003.
Gold: Three-star Hotel Alexandra (tel: 01297 442 010) has commanding sea views. A private gate from the lawn takes you into the Langmuir Gardens, which sweep down to the beach. Half board £50-110.
Silver: Two-star Hotel Buena Vista (tel: 01297 442494) on Pound Street has sea views and is well positioned for the shops and beach. Half board £60-70.
B&B: The White House (tel: 01297 443420) is an 18th-century Georgian house at the top of the town. All seven rooms en suite, £22-28.
Self-catering: Blacksmith Cottage (tel: 01297 489778) sleeps four, £275-520. Cliff Cottage (tel: 01420 472512) sleeps four, £185-385. Bay Cottage (tel: 01297 444593) sleeps six, £280-550.
Where to eat: Gold: Turles Bistro (tel: 01297 445792) fish specialties. Main course £12-14.
The Fish Restaurant (tel: 01297 444111) serves local fish, crab and lobster. £25 for three courses.
Rumours Fruits de Mer (tel: 01297 444740) in Old Lyme, no children under 14. Main course £11-12.
Silver: By The Bay (tel: 01297 442668), lunch and dinner. All-day restaurant and cafe. Main course £7-10.
Royal Standard Inn (tel: 01297 442637), ancient pub by the Cobb. Main courses £6-£12. Filled baguette £4.95.
Cream teas: Jane Austen's Genteel Tea at the Georgian Tea Room on Broad Street, £4.55.
High ratio of staff
Separate from the main house is another building with a mini hangar containing all manner of games for the children, like bowls, croquet and tennis. There were also swimming pools with supervised sessions for the children in the morning.
Every afternoon there is a different activity for children, such as cricket, skittles, football, even Nintendo.
For those with young children and babies there's a Den with a high ratio of staff. Whenever I looked in, the staff were playing with the littlies in a very hands-on way.
The outside sitting area with loungers and tables caters for the parents, who can chill out while the children play on the swings and climbing frames within sight.
My son played on the beach quite happily, trying to dig himself through to Australia. I asked one boy why he liked Moonfleet and he just said: 'The space.'
Beyond the house are fabulous views across high-rolling hills. The site itself feels spacious, but it is also safe. Youngsters can wander about on their own. This is a place where you can allow your children some freedom. As there are so many children it is easy for them all to find pals to play with.
A number of people I spoke to were on their second visit, or, if it was their first, were planning to come again. One mum mentioned with huge gratitude that the hotel was prepared to clean babies' bottles.
Because there are children everywhere there is a huge tolerance for their behaviour. I didn't see any bad behaviour, there was just a generally easygoing attitude of live and let live.
Another mother said how much she liked the relaxed attitude to dress. The hotel has smart prices, but there is no feeling that guests have to dress up to the nines.
Sailing is a breeze
Dartmouth can be crowded. The locals claim it has England's biggest party on New Year's Eve and you can't even park a bike on regatta weekend, but otherwise it's a sedate place, heavy with history, dominated by Britannia Royal Naval College, though there's rarely a frigate on the river now.
Totnes is different, a small hippy town with hardly a shop that doesn't sell scented candles and beads. Serious wholefood, in massive portions, can be washed down with local cider in a variety of eateries, and there's a first-floor toyshop with an amazing display of working steam engines.
Then there is the real thing - the delights of the Paignton and Dartmouth steam railway, and of the South Devon Railway between Totnes and Buckfastleigh. We chugged along beside the upper River Dart in the rain and wondered why Staverton station, halfway to Buckfastleigh, looked so familiar until we read the notice listing films and TV series that have used its nostalgic delights.
At Buckfastleigh the most shivering of families can get warm in the Butterfly House or by running around the Otter Sanctuary; and there's a huge model railway in the cafe for anyone not yet sated.
Every morning we studied the pattern of wind on water to see if it was calm enough for Ellie to go sailing. Finally a glassy surface surrounded Blackness Rock and the sailing school rang to report that the wind stood fair for two hours of gentle scudding across the estuary in a Wayfarer, under the guidance of sailing teacher Ollie.
Five more lessons, he said, and Ellie could think of captaining the Amazon. She could imagine nothing better.
Thomas the Tank fans
Drizzly-day outings to local National Trust houses such as Arlington Court with its model boats and stuffed birds are not, on reflection, a good idea when you have children aged four and two.
But a glimpse of blue sky and the thoughtful provision of a windbreak took us happily to the two-and-a-quarter mile beach at Woolacombe.
The weather held and the days settled into a pattern; a swim in the morning then all into the car for the beach or the obligatory tourist attraction. In fact, the mechanical dinosaur park, zoo and falconry displays at Coombe Martin were a hit.
For our second week, we headed south to the rolling fields of the South Hams. Mostly we stuck to coastal resorts - North Sands, Blackpool Sands, Bantham, Bigburyon-Sea and, our favourite, Salcombe, its narrow streets packed with designer shops, delis and expensive restaurants.
We did shake the sand out of our sandals occasionally. Dartmouth has a dramatic castle and the Paignton & Dartmouth Steam Railway, which takes you north along the Torbay coast, is a must for Thomas the Tank Engine fans. Further afield, there is a superbly laid out aquarium at Plymouth.
But it was the beach at Salcombe to which we returned on our last day, unable to believe that we had in fact managed our 'Mediterranean' holiday after all.
TRAVEL DETAILS:English Country Cottages (www.english-country-cottages.co.uk tel: 0870 442 2515) offers stays at the Coach House, near Barnstaple.
From Liverpool to Hull
On the way home, me and my mate Martyn parked near Woodhead Tunnel, leaped out of the car and howled our anguish into the night.
Maybe that's where the Haunted Valley legends started.
This time, my wife and I stayed at Wayside Cottage in Padfield, a former mill village at the edge of the Longdendale Trail which follows the route of the old Woodhead Railway that connected Sheffield to Manchester.
You can walk or cycle all the way from Liverpool to Hull, because the Longdendale Trail is part of the Trans-Pennine Trail.
We're not that ambitious, so we settled for a stroll along the side of the reservoir before tea at the Peels Arms, conveniently next to our B&B.
It really was a golden evening, with yachts bright as butterflies on the shining water, kids whizzing past us on bikes and a mob of sheep following a Land Rover across sloping field after sloping field, hoping for food.
A bald man strode past at a huge rate of knots listening to Wagner on his leaking Walkman.
Shooting The League Of Gentlemen here, in Hadfield, has only added to the region's oddness quotient.
One of the programme's catchphrases is 'A local shop for local people', and above the small supermarket on the high street is the sign 'Are You Local?'
Fans have stayed at Wayside Cottage and spent the whole day dressed as the main characters; it must be unnerving to eat your breakfast at the next table to a man who opens his coat to reveal a row of clothes pegs.
Lovely camellia walk
Wandering through tunnels of giant rhubarb and bamboo, past England's tallest palm trees, by streams cascading over waterfalls and a pond rippling with Koi carp, I felt as if I really had arrived inside the gates of Eden.
A further half-mile along the road is the National Trust's Glendurgan Garden.
In 1820 a Quaker family set about creating a small piece of heaven on Earth, planting lime, beech, sycamore, oak and ash trees. Giants now, you can glimpse the river through their branches.
There's a lovely camellia walk, ancient cherry orchards, and an exceedingly complicated laurel maze which is best avoided if you're planning a short visit.
Then, at Feock near Truro, there's the stunning Trelissick Garden, visited by the Queen herself at the start of her Jubilee tour.
It's only £4.50 to wander through 20 exquisite acres flanked by 376 acres of woods, parkland and walks, beautifully positioned at the head of the Fal estuary.
I chatted to a fellow garden-enthusiast who'd just visited Eden, which he decried as 'a glorified garden centre'.
He'd seen a recreation of a West African thatched roundhouse and a terrace of crops grown by Botswana's farmers. 'The thing is, if I'd wanted to see a thatched mud hut or Botswana's crops I'd have gone to West Africa,' he said, feeding cake crumbs to some friendly sparrows.
'Same thing with the Warm Temperate biomes.
'Who wants to see spindly oranges, lemons and vines in a greenhouse when you can nip over to Spain and see huge fields of them growing outdoors?'
Quite so. Give me Cornwall's own flourishing flora any day.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
Where to stay: Budock Vean: www.budockvean.co.uk tel: 01326-252-100. Trebah Garden: www.trebah-garden.co.uk tel: 01326-250-448. St Austell Tourist Information Centre: www.cornish-riviera.co.uk tel: 01726-879500. Eden Project: www.edenproject.com tel: 01726-811-911.
Dashing in the 60s
The hotel had gone to seed, but had been dashing in the Sixties, when Princess Margaret and the Queen Mother visited (even though the bathrooms were across the corridor then).
You feel Olga is on a mission to prove herself to her late father, who built the family firm up from a Milk Bar to one of the world's most famous hotel chains.
'Hotels follow each other; they have pot pourri, trouser presses and muzak aimed at this mythical person out there who likes ghastly things. I try to do what I like instead,' she says.
'This is a small hotel, just 28 rooms, so it has to be simple. The most important thing is to keep it very clean.
'You have to keep washing floors, changing the carpet and repainting the whole place once a year.' (This perfectionism explains why the prices are far from rustic.)
There are numerous walks: we got on a ferry for the 10-minute journey across the bay or you could do a five-hour tramp across to Port Loe. There is also the impressive St Mawes Castle to visit. Both the Lost Gardens of Heligan and the Eden Project are around half an hour's drive away, towards St Austell.
The hotel bar has club chairs (and lots of games in case of rain) in which to enjoy a pre-dinner drink. The three-course dinner is a set menu.
Olga is constantly refining the place, and is planning to add a children's room so guests can enjoy the Mediterranean style garden in peace.
Despite its mix of guests, Tresanton is rather glamorous. There is likely to be a celebrity in the dining room, which is either exciting or stressful, depending on your point of view.
All but one of the rooms have a sea view; regulars' favourites include the honeymoon suite and a room with its own private terrace.
At this price, it's just a question of saving up for a special occasion.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
During high season (March 16 to October 31), rooms cost from £195 to £265 a night including breakfast, with a 15 per cent discount for single occupancy.
Family suites are £365. Dinner is £33 per person (01326 270 055).
Ryanair flights (www.ryanair.com) from Stansted to Newquay Airport (less than an hour's drive from St Mawes) are from £7 each way.
Too busy with TV
Our teacher arrives. Not Rick Stein himself - he's far too busy making TV programmes and enriching his empire further to find time to teach. (And of late he has also been faced with some, ahem, marital difficulties.)
Paul Sellars is Rick Stein's head chef, blessed with patience and communication skills you tend not to associate with kitchen dons.
Slap 20 quids' worth of sea bass in front of most of us, and we would not know what to do with it. Choosing, preparing, cooking fish - that's all been Captain Birdseye's speciality.
Rick has woken us up to an ocean of possibilities, but sometimes you need someone to take you through it slowly.
Paul maps out the day. He'll start with a demonstration in preparing and cooking the first dish. After that, we'll cook the same for our own lunch. Yummy.
This will happen not once, but six times throughout the day. Six lunches. Paul looks at us seriously. He says he hopes we didn't have too much breakfast.
First fish on is turbot with a sideshow of cockles and clams. Ten minutes later, we've learned how to whittle the big fish down to the bone without losing a flake of (expensive) flesh.
Paul has made it look easy. Ten minutes later, we are pushing forks into the finished dish, tasting perfection before peeling off into pairs to create our own. My partner is Michael, a Surrey banker.
At 10.30am we are eating our first lunch of steamed turbot with clams, washed down with a delicious cold white wine.
Then it's on to filleting mackerel. Paul keeps it simple, and I end up with my own version of the dish, all tied together with string and looking like the real thing.
Treading the paths of the Lizard
Saturday was gloriously sunny, but on Sunday the mists clung obstinately to The Lizard. We persuaded Edmond to forgo the beach and try out his new Brasher boots on a bracing walk round the very tip of the peninsula - the most southerly point in Britain.
Like so much of our southern coastline west of Swanage, Lizard Point benefits from the stewardship of The National Trust. The Trust's car park information board reminded us of the precious ecology of this particular magical spot.
Several unique plant species grow on the schist and serpentine cliffs and I longed for a botanist to help us to find the diminutive fringed rupturewort, not to mention the prostrate dyer's greenweed. However, there was no mistaking the garish, shocking-pink of the non-indigenous Hottentot figs running amok among the subtler colours of native bluebells, sea campion and three-cornered leeks.
South African invaders notwithstanding, it was stunningly beautiful. The floral tapestry glowed through the mist and the waves were just visible, far below, where the wreckers used to plunder unlucky ships. Today the eerie moan of the lighthouse foghorn warns modern mariners off the savage black rocks, which are almost as deadly as the famous Manacles reef further round the coast.
For landlubbers, the clifftop path is a glorious roller-coaster ride over the endless ups and downs of this most convoluted coastline. I could have carried on all day - all week - but we also wanted to fit one of Cornwall's famous gardens into our mini-holiday, so we returned to the car and drove up to the north-east corner of the peninsula.
They say that Britain packs more variety of landscape into its small area than almost anywhere else on earth, and the cliche certainly holds true in Cornwall. What a contrast, after the defiant Atlantic defences of the Lizard's west coast, to sink into the lush embrace of Trelissick, on the soft, rounded banks of the Fal estuary.
Undulating lawns and classic parkland slope down to the water from the columned house front, but the real interest lies in the pleasure garden planted between 1937 and 1955 by Mr and Mrs Ronald Copeland. Their predecessors had bequeathed a sheltered framework of mature trees. That and the famed warmth of the Cornish micro-climate enabled them to create an exotic, subtropical fantasy, where tree ferns mingle with magnificent azaleas and rhododendrons.
A corpse in the closet
The trail starts in Old Amersham and goes on to visit 50 pretty timewarp towns and villages. Old Amersham itself seems to have featured in as many films as Sean Connery. At the King's Arms on the High Street a while back, a cleaner got the shock of her life when she opened a cupboard and a forgotten one-eyed 'corpse' fell out.
More recently, and considerably more famously, the pub's exterior featured as The Jolly Boatman in Four Weddings And A Funeral. A few doors away, the Crown Hotel played an even bigger part in the UK blockbuster when Hugh Grant and Andie McDowell romped in one of its four-poster beds.
Across the street in an unmarked grave in St Mary's cemetery lies real life murder intrigue - the remains of the last woman to be hanged in Britain, Ruth Ellis. Further along the High Street, the Liz Quilter Antiques shop appeared in the Hammer House of Horror episode Guardians Of The Abyss, while The Pretty & Ellis auction rooms used to be the old Amersham Theatre, where the young Dirk Bogarde made his stage debut.
Most memorably of all for the boys, the brick and flint Amersham General Hospital was where Pamela Stevenson appeared as a nurse with a grenade strapped to her cleavage in The Professionals.
Villages in the area, like enduring stars, have to have many rebirths to survive: Chalfont St Giles became Walmington-on-Sea for the film of Dad's Army, and Aldbury became Mortonhurst for the most recent version of the children's classic, The Railway Children, broadcast last Easter.
Adaptability is the name of the game. John Cleese and Michael Palin filmed scenes for The Human Face at the Chiltern Open Air Museum near Chalfont St Giles. Before that, the Teletubbies had set up temporary home there.
Each of the villages - Old Amersham, Aldbury, Chalfont St Giles, Chenies, Denham, Ley Hill, Turville and Little Missenden are star attractions and, when the weather is better, the pretty countryside between them is worth seeing, too.
Hidden villages of England
An area of outstanding natural beauty, the Chiltern Hills is arguably the most accessible high quality landscape in Britain. It took me just 52 minutes from Leicester Square, by Tube and train. I planned to spend the day walking, then return to London on another railway line - there are 13 Chilterns stations to choose from.
This year the region became closer still, with the publication of four new 1:25,000 scale Ordnance Survey maps. Coneybank was just the place to put them side by side and tease out delicious cartographic possibilities. Perhaps a saunter down Hogstrough Lane? Or a picnic on Parslow's Hillock?
The Chilterns extends from the Thames above Reading to the M1 at Dunstable, with a little island just beyond Luton. Forty-five miles long, it is nowhere more than 14 miles wide. Millions rush through each week on the many rail routes, motorways and roads that cut through or around the hills. The M25 slices off a tiny sliver near Chorleywood.
With the choice of 1,200 miles of footpaths, I decide on a path that wanders through the secret middle, linking with another that balances along the spectacular edge.
In the first hour the South Bucks Way links all the elements that make the Chilterns so appealing. One moment I'm in a wood, trying to spot that supercharged head-banger, the woodpecker. The next I'm plunging down a sudden slope, flints gleaming under foot, into a vista that hasn't changed much in 1,000 years. You find them all over, tight valleys called something like White Hawridge Bottom, where the only thing you see all day is a lumbering tractor turning over the chalky field in toffee-like slabs.
Up the other side and into a tiny hamlet, with a name like Cobblers Hill - flint cottages, medieval church, trapped in a Thirties time warp. Just like the Chilterns village, Turville, where the wartime film Went The Day Well?, starring Patricia Hayes, was set.
In Little Hampden the path curls around an oak which loyal villagers planted to mark the Queen's accession, just another memorable tree out of about 15 million in the Chilterns. Thousands were uprooted in the 1987 and 1990 gales, including many of the beeches on which the local furniture industry was founded.
The storms weren't a complete disaster. They created small clearings, good for butterflies and flowers, and new views. Many new trees, birch, oak and ash, are regenerating.
Time for tea
Back at the river, we set off on a lazy punt along the Backs, as the most beautiful stretch of the Cam behind the colleges is called.
After lunch, we set off for the 40-acre University Botanical Garden, which includes a descendant of the apple tree that dropped its fruit on Isaac Newton's head, making him think about gravitation. There was just time for a cream tea - another Cambridge must - before dip-ping into a few more gardens.
At Emmanuel College, students had set up an ad hoc tennis court on the lawns.
The Fellows' Garden was dominated by an enormous oriental plane tree.
St John's had a sunken, fairly formal garden where we were quite alone, and Selwyn College boasted a jollier, irregular Victorian garden, where buttercups grew on the lawn and passion-flower creepers covered the walls.
The grandest was the Fellows' Garden at Christ's College, reached through a wrought-iron gate. Here, past an 18th-century bathing pool is the 400-year-old mulberry tree under which the poet Milton dozed and composed.
Cambridge college gardens make a delightful retreat from a busy city.
If you're there in the evening this summer, you can watch the Cambridge Shakespeare Festival performed against the most atmospheric of backdrops.
Travel facts: Clare College Fellows' Garden and the University Botanical Gardens are open daily. Christ's College Fellows' Garden opens Mon-Fri, 10.30am-12.30pm and 2pm-4pm.
Picnicking on Peacock Hill
Whatever your child seeks from an island adventure, Brownsea has a little of it to offer. Every twist of the path yields a new terrain - lawns and open grassland, pine woods and sandy beaches, deciduous forests, a lagoon and freshwater lakes.
We picnicked on Peacock Hill - in hindsight, not a wise move. As we sat munching sandwiches, the peacocks, a large cockerel and an assortment of other large birds encircled us, on the lookout for crumbs. Worn down by their piercing cries, we soon moved on.
Brownsea contains lots of interesting landmarks. There's the castle, of course - a grand pile with its own jetty, which was gutted by fire in 1896 and immediately rebuilt. It is leased by the John Lewis Partnership, whose employees can use it for holidays. The other brand of overnighter is the Scout - Brownsea is a place of pilgrimage for girls and boys who still camp in the shade of the Baden-Powell memorial stone.
But our children were intent on pursuing the Famous Five theme, five-year-old Joe playing the part of 'Doggie Timmie' with sound-effects. We trekked, played football and paddled along the beach. We roamed, stopping at the occasional information hut to identify the cormorants, oyster catchers and other unusual birds.
We did not see any red squirrels or sika deer, but could feel their presence as we skirted the pine forests. Nor did we find any pirate's treasure, although our Smuggler's Map indicated chilling deeds had once been done at 'Blood Alley' and 'Cut-Throat Jake's Camp'.
Brownsea is just big enough to give the illusion of escape from the real world. There are no roads, only tracks and well-signed paths, with the occasional ruin, church, or abandoned pottery works to remind you that people once came here for more than the view.
As we collapsed for tea and cake in the National Trust cafe, we noticed most of the adults were dressed in Boy Scout brown. Scout leaders are the official organisers of adventure for the modern child. Where better to look for it than on an island? But remember, you'll have to bring your own treasure.
Exotic sea life
Bournemouth is planning Europe's first artificial surf-reef that will revamp the faded and seedy Boscombe Pier area. I spotted a Surfers' Hotel on the West Cliff where you can decamp with your board and sleep for £10 a night.
But much about the resort is the same. Come summer, there is free entertainment of the 'clap hands and sing along' variety, there's the Oceanarium with its myriad exotic sea life, and there's the little man with a face like a walnut who'll guess your age for 50p (and flatter you by deducting years).
Then there's my favourite, the Russell-Cotes Museum, with its twin turrets and canopied veranda resembling the crinolines of two Victorian ladies.
Once inside, you'll find a treasure house of upmarket Victorian souvenirs, collected by Annie and Merton Russell-Cotes on their travels.
Which brings us to another quirkily original Bournemouth house. The Langtry Manor Hotel on the East Cliff has not a minimalist feature in sight.
It is a symphony of richly-patterned carpets, flock-covered walls and red velour, and was built in 1877 by the Prince of Wales (later Edward VII) for his favourite mistress, Lillie Langtry.
You can stay in Lillie's own room with its many original features. Or you can lord it in the King's Room, with a Jacobean four-poster, and the same commode on which the royal posterior sat.
The hotel is owned by Pamela Howard and her family. Daughter Tara, a former commercial pilot, presides over an efficient and welcoming staff by day.
By night, she dresses in corset, bustle and black silk gown, and plays the part of Lillie in a little tableau during the evening banquet. As I said, some bits of Bournemouth remain as traditional as ever.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
Weekend breaks at the Langtry Manor Hotel from £85.50 per person per night, including Champagne cocktails and a six-course banquet (tel: 01202 553887, www.langtrymanor.com).
Other accommodation includes the Highcliffe Marriott (four star, 01202 557702), the Cumberland Hotel (three star, 01202 290722) which was the town's first Art Deco hotel, and The Lodge at Meyrick Park (B&B, 01202 786000) next to golf course and health club. Westbeach restaurant, Pier Approach, (01202 587785, www.west-beach.co.uk).
Have another portion
Further north, foodies are being lured with Indian cookery demonstrations on Leicester's Belgrave Road, a mile-long parade of colourful sari shops and eateries.
At Bobby's, a family run, vegetarian restaurant, chef Deepak Modak rustled up a delicious plate of Punjabi samosas (deep-fried, triangular pastries stuffed with spicy potatoes, peas, cashew nuts and raisins) in a kitchen barely largely enough to contain the egos of many of TV's celebrity cooks.
Minutes later, preparations for the aloo matter dish (potato and pea curry) began and my stomach started to growl.
Cinnamon sticks, cloves, lychees, curry leaves, cumin seeds and turmeric sizzled first in a pan of oil. Boiled potatoes and frozen peas were added. After a quick stir, more spices, coriander leaves, tomato puree and butter were thrown in for the finale.
Next came the best bit - eating. Accompanied by nan bread, chapati and a chick pea dal, we mopped up our plates with relish. It was a delicious feast.
If you prefer more traditional British food, Langberry's Restaurant at the Kettering Park Hotel and Spa (01536 416666) has been awarded an AA rosette because of its emphasis on local and regional produce.
My gorgonzola and walnut tart toppped with roasted pear was a sweet and savoury sensation while my sister tucked in heartily to her dish of pan-fried fillet of beef. Our two-course dinner, which included two large glasses of wine, cost around £72.
Celebs like Peter Andre, Jordon and the Cheeky Girls have graced the four-star hotel but thankfully there were no stars present during my visit.
It meant I could enjoy the hotel's excellent pool and spa facility without a thong in sight.
- Prices for a B&B break at the Kettering Park Hotel & Spa (01536 416666) start from £65pppn, based on two people sharing. Ring Alamo (0870 400 4562) for car hire.
- To book the next Taste Of Asia weekend break in Leicester on Oct 21-22, ring 01162254404. The package costs £175 per couple, and includes two nights B&B accommodation, a cookery demo, tours and exclusive discount.
- Other UK vineyards worth visiting during English Wine Week include: Painshall Park - Cobham, Surrey; Bothy Vineyard - Frilford Heath, Oxfordshire; Brightwell Vineyard - Wallingford, Oxfordshire; Wickham Vineyard - Shedfield, Southampton, Hampshire; RidgeView Wine Estate - Ditchling Common, Sussex.
- For more information on British gastronomic jaunts, visit Enjoy England, while those seeking more regional flavours should check Enjoy East Midlands.
Feeling inspired? Book a UK break.
Some working men's clubs
That is the kind of club St Gregory's is - still very much attached to the church, with sing-along evenings for old folk, keep-fit sessions, church socials and acts of the type Brian Potter might book for the Phoenix on Sundays only.
It is not typical of Northern clubland, where some working men's clubs can be rather cheerless places; damp, grey prefabricated buildings, with a labyrinthine committee structure, which make you wonder whether you have blundered into an old East German nightmare.
Not St Gregory's, though. It is as friendly as you like. I rolled up for concert night one Sunday and was welcomed with open arms, despite my non-member status.
A club in Yorkshire I once visited made me promise not to indulge in 'fighting, spitting and gouging' before granting me temporary membership - and they were only half joking.
The night I was at St Gregory's the performers were J D Stewart, a crooner, and a vocalist/comedienne down from Stockport called Audrey M. Resident musicians Neil on keyboards and Ken on percussion, and compere Tony completed the bill.
J D Stewart had clearly been around for some time and could carry a tune, although his vocal style occasionally veered uncomfortably close to Vic Reeves's club singer in Shooting Stars.
Audrey was not in the first flush of youth and nor were her jokes ('Last club I were in they asked me to do something Irish. So I went outside and dug up the car park.'). She could belt out a ballad, though, and what made the evening fly by was the obvious enjoyment of the audience.
That, and the fact that I was there, on the very set of the funniest British TV comedy for a number of years. 'Everyone wants to come here now we're the Phoenix Nights club,' Paul Sandland tells me with relish.
One occasion at St Gregory's when you might see a performance in the style of Peter Kay's speciality acts is when they have a special Phoenix Nights night.
There has been one so far, organised by a fans' website in aid of local charities.
The pink paint is bubbling
You wouldn't recognise Bletchley Park from the film. The moviemakers shunned the real mansion in favour of the far more imposing 18th Century Chicheley Hall, near Newport Pagnell, just one exit further north on the M1. Chicheley has its own secrets.
It, too, was used for covert operations during the war - by SOE, the Special Operations Executive, established by Churchill in 1940 to undertake acts of sabotage in occupied Europe.
In the film it looks battle scarred. Seen out of make-up, it is a charming place, reached from a quiet lane. Chicheley is a pleasant village, too, with a pub - the Chester Arms - named after the family that built the house.
In fact, this area of north Buckinghamshire was used for many secret operations driven out of London by the Blitz. Jean told us she was billeted at another mansion, Woburn Abbey - not grand, she insisted, just the coldest place she had ever been.
But it is at Bletchley Park that you find the real Enigma story, and fascinating it is. Jean took us via the stable yard where, in the curiously turreted upper room of a cottage, mathematical genius Alan Turing first broke the code, then on to the huts where the victory over Enigma was sealed.
They are a sorry sight. The Park is run by a voluntary trust - it gets no funds from Government, the Lottery or English Heritage - and is struggling to renovate and restore. Hut 6, where the code breakers deciphered the code, is a mess of peeling white paint, its windows boarded.
Next door at Hut 3, where analysts interpreted the deciphered material, the pink paint is bubbling, the masonry crumbling.
Across a path is Hut 11, where the enormous electro-mechanical machines known as bombes - forerunners to modern computers - took the possible solutions suggested by the analysts and ran through the billions of possible interpretations.
Childhood revisited
At the day's end, as the tram trundled and clanged along the seafront, people joked about their triumphs and horrors, steam billowed from packets of chips, and on the upper deck an impromptu sing-song broke out led by the conductor. The tram had become a moving party. It was time for bed. The next morning we tried to play football on the beach, but the wind was too strong and we ended up chasing the ball along the endless sands instead.
The prom had changed little from the days when, as a young boy, I'd visited with my parents - dirty postcards, greasy spoons, cockle sellers and guest houses called Aloha. On the pier Billy J. Kramer sang Bad To Me, seagulls hung on the wind, and holidaymakers posed for pictures in the seafront cut-outs or wandered along with steaming hotdogs, leaving a trail of onions. Walt Disney would have been apoplectic.
The Pleasure Beach may be the resort's main attraction, but the venerable Blackpool Tower remains its forever-willing playmate. Having made faces at two huge loggerhead turtles swimming in circles in the small aquarium, Larne and Max disappeared into the amusement arcade. At the back of the arcade, women queued patiently to see Gipsy Lena Petulengro, eager to know whether their fortunes were about to change.
Upstairs in the Tower Ballroom, beneath the cherubs and scalloped plasterwork, couples were high-kicking and gliding across the floor to the Wurlitzer that Reginald Dixon spent 40 years pumping. Larne and Max were mesmerised by this wonderful timewarp.
Our last stop in the Tower was the very top, where a glass-plate section was installed a couple of years ago so that Max, Larne and lunatics like them could stand and jump on clear glass 518ft above the street.
Next up was fish and chips at Harry Ramsden's, and then it was time for more steeplechasing, avalanche riding, log fluming, Big Dippering, Revolutioning and, of course, the Pepsi Max Big One. Max said he liked the fact the Pleasure Beach had named the ride after him.
Kiss-me-quick
The first thing I did was buy myself a shocking pink stetson bordered with sequins, around which I put a kiss-me-quick band - in perpetual defiance of my mother, who used to say they were 'common'. Where else can you wear such a hat all day without anybody even noticing? You could walk along the Golden Mile in a backless evening dress in the middle of the day, and nobody would give you a second glance. Anything goes in Blackpool.
The beach was empty. Once, people thronged the sands in all weathers. Now, even on a sunny day, the children seem to want more than sandcastles. It's the slam-bang of the arcades that attracts, dozens of them along the Golden Mile.
But the famous Pleasure Beach is as popular as ever - not a beach at all but a 42-acre funfair which seems to have changed little since I was a child. Screams from the white-knuckle ride echo over the site, as I take another trip down memory lane by playing the heritage slot machines.
Classic rides like Noah's Ark and Derby Racer are still enjoyed, while the appeal of dodgems and shooting galleries never dies.
Of course, Blackpool has changed. The tyrannical landlady who locked guests out until 4pm has gone, and nowadays holidaymakers expect 'en suite' and tea-making facilities. A few years ago the waters of the Irish Sea were unswimmable for sewage, but that act has been cleaned up.
Then they started talking of turning the place into a kind of Las Vegas, and many people complained that the tackiness had already gone over the top. The emphasis seemed to have shifted from family holidays to drunken clubbing and obscene souvenirs.
Now the scruffy promenade has been given a facelift, and I saw as many families with young children as ever. But each night at 2am when the clubs close some 20,000 young people pour on to the streets and people complain about the drunkenness and rowdy horseplay that can easily seem a threat.
Blackpool walks the highwire between extremes and mustn't become like the haunts of drunken 'yoof' in Europe.
Talking of highwire acts, the Tower Circus has one of the best I've ever seen. There's something miraculous about a circus ring in a building, not a tent. You sit in steep tiers, amid gilded and encrusted Edwardian decorations and submit to the ancient magic of acrobats in spangled costumes, plate-spinners, silly clowns in baggy pants and huge shoes, exquisite girls on horses and other heart-stopping turns.
It's all skill, strength and sequins, and the finale, when the ring fills with water, is so marvellous I wanted to go right back and see it again. Oh, and there was one concession to modernism: the ringmaster was a ringmistress. Hooray! I thought.
Commuter-belt cosiness
At Newbury, we slide off the M4 and into the countryside. We drive on through the twisty lanes in the general direction of The Vineyard, hoping to discover a world of chauffeurs, party frocks and 'private gravel'!
All around there's a sense of decorum and commuter-belt cosiness that seems perfectly in keeping. On television, Betjeman became famous for saving railway architecture, for being one of the first to see the glories of Metroland and garden suburbs.
This is the countryside through which he regularly travelled up to London to make his programmes. But I am genuinely surprised there is so much rolling, unspoiled open countryside so near London.
Not only that but soon we pass a tile-hung church - and then a gabled lodge which, better and better, turns out to be the training centre for brown-uniformed Norland Nannies. You almost expect to see a road sign with a silhouetted Silver Cross pram saying: Danger, Low-Flying Matron.
Just this side of Stockcross, we stop the car and walk along the Lambourn Valley Way towards Speen Church. Our dog speeds ahead - tipsy on so much sudden green freedom - while we take it easy, admiring the footpath strewn with snowdrops.
Less well known than the well trodden Ridgeway, this carefully hidden walk winds you almost right across this corner of Berkshire, in between fields, under miniature, disused railway bridges, cutting across bridleways and finally down to the racecourse.
Everywhere you go, you are reminded this is horse country and always has been - Uffington, Betjeman's home village, boasts the oldest chalk horse in the country, a 3,000-year-old skeletal figure etched into the slope of the Ridgeway.
We reach The Vineyard as the sky turns navy blue. There's a discreet turning on to - yes! - private gravel.
Inside there are rich carpets, salmon pink armchairs, sconces, grandfather clocks and oil paintings. The Vineyard may feel upstartishly new - there's no sense of its having stood there for centuries - but it has an unmistakable liveliness and glamour.
As we wait for dinner, the lines of the poem float through my head...
'Was it chance that paired us neatly, / I who loved you so completely, / You, who pressed me closely to you, / hard against your party frock? / 'Meet me when you've finished eating!'
Visit to a Darling museum
Grace, then 22, had been watching seabirds like these from her window on the morning of September 7, 1838, when she spotted the Forfarshire drifting helplessly towards Great Harcar Rock, where it was dashed to splinters. The museum tells how Grace and her father William saw that a few survivors had struggled from the shattered vessel.
To go to their rescue meant placing their own lives in the utmost danger, for the Darlings' four-oared coble - the museum's most prized possession - was not built for such tempestuous weather. Their struggle with the storm-tossed seas later became a popular subject with Victorian painters, some of whose works line the museum's walls.
Dressed in billowing skirt and bonnet, Grace is depicted heaving on the oars and fighting against the waves. It was her strength that enabled her to hold the coble steady while her father leaped on to the rock. He found nine people had survived - too many to fit into the coble - requiring two hazardous trips to get all of them safely back to the Farne Islands.
Within days Grace was a national heroine, her fame illustrated by the many newspaper articles on display in the museum. Numerous letters on show also testify to Grace's sudden stardom. Some are from admirers begging for locks of hair, others contain poems and gifts of money, while several 'gentlemen of rank' sent offers of marriage.
London entrepreneurs started churning out commemorative mugs, china models, silver spoons and cheap portraits of Grace. But she was embarrassed by all the attention and made no claim on the vast sum of money raised by admirers. Spurning suitors, she continued to live in the Farne Islands until her death from tuberculosis in 1842, four years after the rescue.
Following her death, Grace's possessions were handed down through the family as treasured heirlooms. The Grace Darling Museum is still in contact with members of the family, many of whom have donated memorabilia to the collection.
Now a project is in hand to restore the Grace Darling Memorial in the churchyard opposite the museum. Museum curator Christine Bell hopes this will encourage even more people to come to Bamburgh and learn about Northumberland's most famous daughter. 'It's essential that people remember Grace's courage and bravery,' she says. 'After all, she is one of England's greatest heroines.'
No more than bulbous blobs
The best thing about the Avebury Stones is they're just there. You scoot down the M4, take the exit for Marlborough and then suddenly you're whizzing past Silbury Hill, the tallest manmade earthwork in Europe.
It's a grassy mound, about 130ft high, which apparently took 18 million hours to construct. The children were instantly and wildly impressed. History you can climb all over - fantastic!
Another mile down the road and you're in the village of Avebury - and there they were, these spooky megaliths looming up out of the ground.
Some tall and white as teeth, others no more than bulbous blobs, pitted and pock-marked like dinosaur eggs.
Had we worried the kids might think them piffling, disappointing, we needn't have.
'They're ... oh wow! They're massive!' came the chant and we knew Stage One was a success.
It was good news for the dog, too, because, unlike the rather cutely contained Stonehenge, Avebury is, in fact, three vast, gaping rings of stones, cutting through and round an otherwise normal Wiltshire village.
A walk, in other words.
'They were dragged here all the way from West Wales 4,000 years ago,' Jonathan explained. 'The big question, though, is how? And why?'
But, awesome as the stones are (some weighing 40 tons), the best bit was still to come. Push beyond the circles and you discover that the whole settlement is encircled by a huge, empty moat about 30ft deep and at least 40ft across.
Streatley, Thames Valley
STREATLEY, THAMES VALLEY
Forget the dull Thames Valley of M4 gridlock and high-tech factories, and welcome to the glorious original Thames Valley - haunt of Ratty, Mr Toad and Three Men in a Boat, of fine houses and the Queen's Swan Uppers gliding by in majestic liveried boats.
The Berkshire village of Streatley, favourite of landscape artists and stopping point for Jerome K. Jerome's rollicking trio who 'stayed' at The Bull, on Streatley Hill, and companion village Goring face each other over one of the oldest crossing points of the Thames.
Two ancient ways join here. For two miles the Thames Path merges with the Ridgeway (Avebury in Wiltshire to Ivinghoe in Buckinghamshire: 85 miles).
Take the flat Thames Path to Wallingford or as far west as Oxford - you can catch the train back to Goring. Or venture east as far as Pangbourne, Henley or even Windsor.
The Ridgeway is utterly different. Up on the Marlborough Downs it trails the chalk ridge route used by prehistoric man to the White Horse at Uffington and beyond.
Heading north, the Ridgeway switches identities again, climbing into the Chilterns, past villages like Nuffield and unexpected wonders such as the Maharajah's Well, the gift of a 19th Century Indian grandee, at Stoke Row.
Tourist information: Chain Street, Reading RG1 2HX (Tel: 0118 956 6226). Thames Path and Ridgeway information: National Trails Office, Oxfordshire County Council, Holton, Oxford OX33 1QQ (Tel: 01865 810224)
And now Butlins the hotel
While it seems good value for money, the cost of staying at Butlins Bognor Regis can mount up for a family.
If you're self-catering, an adult breakfast costs £5.25 (£3.25 per child) while a meal for four at Harry Ramsden's fish and chip shop costs nearly £20. But you are spoilt for choice for eating and drinking, with 12 bars and restaurants in the complex.
Butlins Bognor Regis has ambitious plans for the holiday campsite, which opened in 1960.
Work has just started on the company's first hotel, a 160-bedroom development on the sea front which should be completed in summer 2005. A spokesman said: "Everyone is thrilled at the prospect of offering guests this unique accommodation and we hope it'll bring the resort a special facility."
If visitors ever get bored by the many attractions, there's plenty to see outside the complex.
The centre of Bognor is a 10-minute walk away and nearby is sleepy Felpham village.
Further afield are Arundel Castle, Chichester and Brighton. More info is available at butlins.com or you can ring 01243 820202.
Wet and wild
The log flume is one of several water-based rides at Legoland that are guaranteed to get the family wet.
If the sun doesn't dry you there is always the drying machine at the bottom of the Extreme Challenge waterslide.
Pester power is inevitable at any theme park and Legoland is no different.
At the entrance/exit to the park there is a large shop selling all types of Lego toys, while dotted throughout the park are 12 different eateries offering all kinds of kid-friendly food including burgers and pizza.
As with all theme parks it is inevitable that a certain amount of time will be spent queuing for the most popular rides.
Parents should be advised that height restrictions apply to some of the more exciting attractions. Rides like the roller coasters and log flume tend to have a minimum height requirement of 0.9m or insist on adults accompanying children under 1.1m.
Younger children may get frustrated by being denied the fun stuff, though there is still plenty for them to do.
Legoland may not hold quite the same appeal as Disneyland or Alton Towers for older children, but for under-14s there is plenty for a fun day out. Travelling by car, the attraction can be reached via the M25 and is located just two miles from Windsor town centre. Allow between six and seven hours for your visit.
The Legoland season is already up and running until October 31. There are special events throughout that time including jousting and pop concerts.
Unexpected drenching
Mother and child did sample the Dino Safari - after a 45-minute wait. Queuing is one of the downsides of these theme park jaunts, and with a rowdy toddler it can be trying.
The solution seems to be for one parent to wait in line while the other wanders with the easily-bored child. Was it worth the wait for Dino Safari? They didn't think so.
However, things did improve dramatically with the Orient Expedition train that circles the heart of the park.
Driven by an enthusiastic Legoland staff member, it trundled along gently. Water jets secreted along the way gave passengers an unexpected drenching.
Simple and far from pulse-racing, but the stuff of golden memories for a train-obsessed youngster.
Legoland isn't exactly massive but a couple of days are needed to sample all it has to offer. We managed about five hours and only got a taster.
The highlight of our visit was unexpected. Miniland sees European cities including Edinburgh, London and Paris replicated in Lego - of course.
My young son marvelled at the miniature trains and lorries trundling around and had to be restrained from clambering King Kong-like all over London. It was with a few tears that we pulled him away.
So what are the conclusions of this theme park virgin regarding Legoland, Windsor?
Adrenalin junkies should look elsewhere for their fix. It's also not cheap - a day pass costs £24 per adult and £22 per child over three. On top of that there's the grub (more stodge than cordon bleu) from the various eateries around the park. Main courses were about £6.
But those seeking an initiation into the world of theme parks, with something to interest even train-obsessed toddlers, should find a visit the stuff of pleasant dreams rather than nightmares.
Feeling inspired? Then book a UK break.
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| | | | Dungeon drinks at the Star Castle
Those who visit the Scillies go for the walks, the beaches, the bird-watching and the flowers. It's not a destination for sophisticates, nor for those looking for rave-ups and nightlife. It's the sort of place where front doors are left open, bicycles have no locks and car keys are left in the ignition.
A local policeman told me they've had only four crimes this year, and three were solved. There are no newspapers on Sundays. In the one supermarket the shelves were pretty bare, due to bad weather preventing supplies arriving by sea. People were fighting over the last packet of crispy salad, and Basil had to go without his Bonzo Choc Drops.
For a special treat on St Mary's you can enjoy a drink in the convivial dungeon bar of the Star Castle Hotel, once a garrison, built in 1593, in the shape of an eight-pointed star. Or try lunch - another fab crab salad - at Juliet's Garden Cafe, sitting outside in a sheltered hollow on the cliff edge.
Everything, apart from the taxi fares, was wonderful, especially Standing Stone, which was better equipped and furnished than my home. It even had heated towel rails and air conditioning. I did not want to leave, nor did Basil.
Being a town dog, he'd never chased rabbits before and, having known such bliss and freedom, now that he is home he keeps making wistful whining noises.
I do, too. I miss the flowers, the peace, the gentle pace, the heated towel rails. In retrospect, even the five-mile walk to and from the shops with eager Basil in tow seems delightful.
Feel the force
From inside, you feel the force of Stonehenge. At the heart of a mysterious ceremonial landscape, every horizon outside the sacred area is crowned with Bronze Age burial mounds.
In the 19th Century, tourists were encouraged to bring a hammer and chip off souvenirs. Our diverse group - including Yoshiko Yamaguchi, from Cambridge, who was doing an archaeology diploma, and Martin Wall, a Yorkshire farmer - enthusiastically took photographs.
After a post-lunch tour of the ramparts at Old Sarum, Salisbury's original settlement, we had dinner at the Old Mill in Harnham.
The next morning Andrew took us to one of the largest burial mounds in the country, the West Kennet Long Barrow.
One body, minus fingers and toes, was found at West Kennet with an arrow in his neck.
Long barrows don't seem to have been tombs where bodies were left to decay, but where bones pecked clean by buzzards were placed and selectively used in other ceremonies.
Silbury Hill, a massive green pudding in the distance, was even more baffling. Not much has been found inside, so what possessed Neolithic man to spend years shovelling away with antler picks to create the biggest man-made hill in prehistoric Europe?
The mound itself must have been important, perhaps a fertility figure. Silbury Hill and West Kennet Long Barrow are part of a ritual landscape linked to the largest henge of all - Avebury.
Once called a cathedral to Stonehenge's parish church, it is so big that 13 of Egypt's pyramids could fit inside the stone circle and part of the village is held within its banks. Villagers have built sarsen rubble into their garages and shops.
Land of the olde tea shoppe
A blow along the beach in the morning revealed the full splendour of the hotel's architecture, reminding me of a mini Turnberry in Scotland, with its gleaming white paintwork and redtiled roof, but with the golf course (Littlestone) behind it among the reeds, rather than on the seaside.
My friend and I lapsed into our usual undergraduate humour as she arrived to take me exploring. We had to leave quickly before she made too many comments about the tapestry cushions all over the place, but first I made her inspect the delightful first-floor 'lookout' where you could sit overlooking the sea with your choice of the many fat novels on the shelves, or watch what was going on through a telescope.
I'd like to have driven to bleak Dungeness to inspect the garden created by film director Derek Jarman against the stark background of the nuclear power station. Despite the inhospitable terrain, Jarman had an ability to coax things to grow outside his little fisherman's cottage in this utterly unprepossessing spot.
But with limited time my friend insisted it was to West Kent we should go, as it was so much prettier. She was right. As you drive towards Rye, the countryside suddenly becomes undulating and beautiful, peppered with conical oast houses.
Rye, the Town on the Hill, is one of the Cinque Ports, a spidery little place with endless cobbled alleyways and more olde tea shoppes than the Bronte village of Haworth. We hadn't realised afternoon tea was still such a thriving industry in these health-foodie times. Inside St Mary's church a massive clock pendulum hangs high above your head, swinging to and fro. We lunched in pretty Tenterden, with its wide main street lined by old-fashioned shopfronts.
And there are endless other charming small towns and villages to explore. From Romney Bay House you're also within easy reach of John Aspinall's Port Lympne and Howletts zoos, Vita Sackville West's gardens at Sissinghurst and Leeds Castle. But as Helmut observed, there are those who, once ensconced, are reluctant to move outside the hotel for an entire weekend. Probably too busy finding each other again.
Pure Wind In The Willows
Once these details were recorded, the creatures were released at the same spot where they were trapped.
Luckily we were not expected to go badger catching. Dealing with badgers is a job for experts as these creatures have immensely strong jaws which are used to terrible effect in fights between males.
Chris tempered this with an amusing story of the night when he was sitting waiting for badgers to appear and was playing games on his mobile phone to keep himself awake.
Deeply absorbed, he was unaware that he had acquired an audience of two badgers peering inquisitively over his arm as they watched the phone's screen.
My last night on badger watch was pure Wind In The Willows. Sitting next to a path on a well used animal run, it wasn't long before a badger emerged from its sett and began trotting confidently towards me.
Oblivious to my presence until we were eyeball to eyeball, he screeched to a halt, blinked and stared at me before turning abruptly and galloping back at breakneck speed.
For a moment he was Mr Badger grunting 'Hmm! Company', turning his back and disappearing from view.
So I left Wytham Woods not only with a sense of having made a small contribution to conservation but with my childhood memories intact.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
Mammals of Wytham Woods is one of eight UK Discovery Projects organised by Earthwatch (www.earthwatch.org/europe tel: 01865 318831).
The grace of Magdelen College
2.00pm
Now it's your turn! Punts can be hired from the Head Of The River patio. Beware though, it's more difficult than it looks. Many first-timers get stuck, lose their pole or even fall in. Alternatives include hiring a punt 'chauffeur' or taking a river cruise. Whether you punt, cruise or walk, the grassy river banks have pretty views across the college meadows toward the towers and spires.
3.30pm
Christchurch Meadows. The public entrance to the biggest and most famous college, Christchurch, is from this green and open space. The meadows lead across the back of the colleges towards what looks like another big church.
This is Magdalen College's bell tower - from the top of which the college choir sings Latin Grace to huge crowds of early morning revellers welcoming the spring on May Day. Apart from the lovely old college buildings, there's a 15th- century chapel and cloisters, a fantastic garden, a river walk and the college deer park, which has supplied the college with venison for 200 years.
4.30pm
Oxford's High Street is unlike any other city's. There's no Dorothy Perkins or Dixons here; it's mainly historic college buildings such as University College (where Bill Clinton studied) and the forbidding gothic facade of The Exam Schools, where students don mortar boards and gowns to take their finals every summer.
One of the few shops on High Street is the University Of Oxford Shop, selling special rowing and rugby shirts, ties and caps. The quality is high; prices surprisingly normal.
5.00pm
Time for a cuppa in a student cafe, such as George's or Browns. Eavesdroppers will note that the customers are more likely to be arguing about philosophy than football, or playing chess instead of cards.
Shakespeare In Love
On to Broughton Castle, home of Lord Saye and Sele, whose ancestor joined Parliament's side. I reached the house after closing but a sign told me I was most welcome to stroll around the splendid grounds.
From a steep slope studded with oaks I looked down over a wide moat where an incongruous Home Guard of Canada geese was ready to hiss invaders out of the park.
The house's ancient windows were sheets of molten gold in the dipping sun. Did it seem familiar? Shakespeare In Love was filmed here. Ralph and Joseph Fiennes are the viscount's fourth cousins.
Broughton proves the Royalists didn't have all the best houses. Another is Rockingham Castle, built by William the Conqueror, near Naseby.
It commands a formidable ridge, looking down over Rutland. As I tried in vain to find a way in during the closed season, I could easily understand how the Roundheads held out against the Royalist siege.
At least Charles had all the home comforts, imprisoned in opulent Holdenby House, north of Northampton and just across the fields from Althorp.
There are many more locations on the Civil War Trail that fit in with the jigsaw of those turbulent nine years. South of Oxford is Chalgrove. An information board at the battlefield tells how, on June 18, 1643, Prince Rupert defeated John Hampden.
The nave of Radley Church owes its lopsided state to being hit by a cannonball.
Then south to the Royalist stronghold of Donnington Castle, Newbury, now a striking hilltop ruin.
I went west to Langport in Somerset, site of another great Fairfax victory, then to Wiltshire to see Roundway Down, near Devizes, which combines history with a nature reserve and is one of my favourite Civil War spots, complete with a helpful new interpretation board - standards of explanation varies enormously from site to site.
Most prestigious building
Northampton is far better connected than it used to be. More, in fact, like other towns. It could be Colchester, Cardiff or Taunton.
They even have beggars, although perhaps these are in fact shape-changing aliens who landed in 1980 and fell on hard times. The boot and shoe trade is certainly not the major employer it used to be.
Northampton's most prestigious building is The Guildhall. A gem of Victorian architecture, it was built in 1864 by the celebrated 19th Century architect Edward Godwin.
Tours include a visit to the old prison cells and the Mayor's Parlour. The Central Museum and Art Gallery contains the largest collection of boots and shoes in the world.
In his book, A History Of Northamptonshire, local historian R. L. Greenall describes the county as 'unknown England'. That still holds true, despite all the latest developments.
It's not Warwickshire (they have Shakespeare), nor Bedfordshire (they have Luton Airport), nor Derbyshire (they have Derby). The town has always been defined by what it's handy for.
Certainly Northampton's biggest selling point during the development years of the Seventies and Eighties was that it was '60 miles by road or rail' from London (a fact Linda Jardim hammered home in the lyrics to Energy In Northampton). It's 68 miles, actually.
Northampton remains my proud birthplace and writing a book about it has rekindled my love.
I have even begun to take an interest in the fortunes of Northampton's Second Division football team, nicknamed the Cobblers for shoemaking reasons rather than as a comment on their performance.
They entered the annals of football history in the Sixties by climbing from the Fourth Division to the First and then dropping right back down to the Fourth again.
Joe Mercer, then manager of Manchester City, said: 'The miracle of 1966 was not England winning the World Cup but Northampton reaching Division One.'
The moral being that you have to take civic pride where you can find it. As the sleeve notes of Energy In Northampton make plain: 'Northampton is like a human being, having evolved, matured and developed its character with passing years.'
A load of rubbish, of course, but it's better than Wolverhampton.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
Northampton Tourist Information Centre: www.hetb.co.uk tel: 01604 622677.
Andrew Collins' book, Where Did It All Go Right?, is published by Ebury Press at £9.99.
The beaches are deserted
But it is the new hotel which is grabbing local attention. Especially when the furnishings arrived last month.
'The Indian theme convinced many people that we were actually opening a curry house,' says Polly.
Her husband says that the new hotel project symbolises the Holkham Estate's growing shift towards tourism as a source of income and he was determined that they got things right.
He says: 'We undertook considerable research, visited hotels and restaurants and combined this with our own needs of being able to go somewhere with a young family.'
The Cokes have children aged two and eight months.
'We wanted to provide a quality setting, good food using fresh, local ingredients wherever possible and beautiful rooms where people can relax and feel refreshed.'
Major emphasis has been placed on the hotel's restaurant which is under the supervision of Harrow-educated chef Henry Cumming. Cromer crabs, Brancaster mussels and fresh and smoked eels from Holkham's own lake are among the ingredients that Cumming will be featuring on the restaurant's menu.
The accent in the hotel and the restaurant is on informality: 'One of the most important things is that visitors to the Victoria have fun; we want it to be a fun place for guests and for the team running it.'
Just three-and-a-half hours' drive from Central London, this part of Norfolk feels as if it might be on a different planet.
The roads are empty and the beaches deserted. A substantial attraction, Holkham Hall, for example, gets just 30,000 visitors a year.
For the official opening, why not invite Gwyneth Paltrow over to perform the ceremony?
Viscount Coke smiles. 'She wouldn't be interested, would she?'
It's the sort of ending even Shakespeare would love.
Travel facts: Contact The Victoria on 01328 710469/711008 or www.victoriaatholkham.co.uk
Charming Suffolk villages
To the north of the restricted zone is Watton Airfield, where the men tackled a runaway secret weapon - a giant, radio-controlled wheel packed with high explosives, which chased Jones's van.
Dad's Army location shoots always took place in summer in what you might assume was an idealised, now lost, English countryside. In fact it's still here, just as it was.
The proof is to the south of Thetford, in a clutch of charming Suffolk villages that also had regular appearances in the show.
I took a walk from Honington, where I recognised the parish church with a pretty little school alongside it. Here, Captain Mainwaring heard the bank had been bombed.
Racing off to ensure the money was safe, he commandeered a horse and cart and careered off down a lane which fords the Black Bourn and doubles back to the next village, Sapiston.
A couple of miles down the lane is the village of Bardwell, where across a field is a splendid 16th Century pub called the Six Bells which also played a part and has a picture of the Dad's Army cast on the wall.
It was almost as if they were there with me.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
For guided tours in the Stanford Battle Area write to: Headquarters, Stanford Training Area, West Tofts Camp, Thetford, Norfolk IP26 5EP (01842 855235).
Bressingham Steam Museum in Bressingham, near Diss (01379 687 386) opens on March 23 2002 and has a permanent exhibition of Dad's Army memorabilia.
Accommodation: The Bell Hotel, Thetford (01842 754455), the Anchor Hotel, Thetford (01842 763925) and the Six Bells at Bardwell, Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk (01359 250820).
There is a Dad's Army Appreciation Society and its website is www.dadsarmy.com
Eating out
Where to eat:
Gold: Finn's (01637 874062) contemporarily designed Conran-style restaurant in a converted boathouse on the beach by the harbour.
Watch the fisherman land their catch - then eat it. Main course from £7.95 (mussels).
Silver: Windward Hotel (01637 873185), small hotel with a sunny restaurant overlooking Porth Beach. Main course £11-13.95.
Bronze: Newly refurbished Lewinnick Lodge (01637 878117) is situated in a remote clifftop cottage at the far end of Fistral Beach, a 20-minute walk from the town. Main course £6.65-£11.25.
Cream tea: Pauline's Creamery £3.20, Jackie's Tea Rooms £2.95
Where to party:
Afternoon and evening: The Chy Bar and Kitchen, Australasian Bar and the Offshore Beach Bar.Late-late: Sailors, The Springbok and Tall Trees.
Activities:
Surfing: The British Surfing Association runs both The National Surfing Centre (01637 850737) on Fistral Beach.
Also the Tolcarne Surf School (01637 851487) on Tolcarne Beach. Beginners' full day group session £25.
Kitesurf: Harness the power of the wind to jump the waves or try your hand at blo-karting - riding a miniature land yacht. The Extreme Academy (01637 860840).
Blue Reef Aquarium on Towan Beach: Get up close to native sharks, rays, sea horses, and giant conger eels (01637 878134).
Tunnels through time: Life-size models and special effects brings to life the stories and legends of Cornwall. Sun-Fri 10am-4pm Adults £3.90, children £1.95.
Newquay Zoo: It houses hundreds of animals from lions to wallabies and pigmy marmosets. Open daily 9.30am-6pm. Adults £6.75, Children £4.20 (01637 873342).
Shark, wreck, and deep sea fishing: All-day trips 9.30am-5.30pm, £30 including bait and tackle, aboard Pathfinder Atlantic Diver and Che Sara-Sara. You keep your catch. Newquay Boatmen's Association (01637 876352).
Best beach: Fistral faces west. Lack of protection from the Atlantic rollers has given it a reputation as Europe's finest surfing venue.
Best thing about resort: Its vibrancy. You might expect to find such a cosmopolitan atmosphere in Cairns or California - but not in Cornwall.
Worst thing about resort: Late-night noise. Choose where you stay with care.
Such a concentration of international sun-bleached youth, fuelled by an inexhaustible supply of low-priced alcohol, can cause insomnia to the over-30s.
Bar staff in bikinis
Setting off on our circuit of the Bigg Market, it did not seem to matter that it was pouring with rain.
After the topless dancing earlier, the Vault had become a bit more sedate, while the helium balloons celebrating 40th birthdays next door at the Love Shack signalled that it appealed to the older clubbing crowd.
Yel, with its bar staff in bikinis and swimming trunks, seemed to be aimed at a younger set while Kiss was just fun.
Then there was the Seventies-tastic Flares, a shrine to the mirror ball, sing-along hit and a clear destination for hens and stags with a penchant for dressing up, although there was, inexplicably, no sign of the Welsh fishwives.
As Dean Street turned into a river, we took cover by the Post Office. 'Newcastle's answer to the Spanish steps,' according to Bob, a veteran of the Tyneside pub and club scene.
We paused for breath as hundreds of people steamed past, all seemingly impervious to the rain.
'Give a Newcastle girl the choice between a nice, sensible winter coat and going out on the hoy, and she'll go on the hoy every time,' he said approvingly.
Newcastle's other bar circuit, by the Quayside, attracts a slightly older crowd.
We started off in Chase, a classy choice, with squashy sofas, coffee tables, aquarium and a ladies' loo which was doing sterling improvisational work as a hairdressers, with women crouched under the hand-dryers.
'I've just heard a hen saying she's lost her halo,' said Debbie, back from drying out her clothes.
Upmarket bus tour
Harrods Luxury sightseeing tour
An attempt to provide an up-market bus tour using an open-top double-decker bus painted in Harrods' green livery complete with driver, guide and hostess dispensing tea/coffee in plastic cups and a couple of cheap biscuits.
The tour is run by the more populist Original London Tour Bus company, but you pay a lot more for this one. What you see: All the main sights including Kensington Palace, Tower Bridge and the London Eye. Best joke: Mick Jagger went to the London School of Economics, but left because he couldn't get no satisfaction. Worst bit: Guide hides downstairs with microphone - and makes repeated plugs for Harrods. Price: £20 for two hours (£10 children under 14, under-fives free). Verdict: 3/10 Why pay £5 more for a cup of tea? Contact: Harrods Luxury Sightseeing Tours, Harrods, Knightsbridge, London SW1X 7XL; 020 7225 6596 or go to www.harrods.com
Jimi Hendrix and the Rolling Stones
Brook Street, Mayfair: Only one of London's English Heritage blue plaques celebrates a rock star - 23 Brook Street in Mayfair where guitar legend Jimi Hendrix lived in the late Sixties.
He's in good company as composer George Handel lived next door at number 25. Hendrix moved to the upmarket pad after Ringo Starr evicted him and his manager Chas Chandler from his Montagu Square flat when they painted all the rooms black.
430 Kings Road: The cradle of punk was an early Seventies clothes shop at 430 Kings Road called Let It Rock which sold clothing and teddy boy outfits, run by art school rebel Malcolm McLaren and his partner Vivienne Westwood.
McLaren renamed the shop Sex and he and Westwood pioneered the punk look. He formed The Sex Pistols using shop regulars but largely as a vehicle to promote the shop.
Nowadays, 430 Kings Road is a boutique called World's End.
Edith Grove: Die-hard fans of the Rolling Stones believe an English heritage blue plaque deserves to be erected outside 102 Edith Grove in Chelsea - for it's there they believe the Stones were formed.
Brian Jones lived in the middle floor flat when the Rolling Stones first formed but Mick Jagger and Keith Richards soon moved in. All three shared a flat there between 1962 and 1963.
The Beatles visited the flat for a party in April 1963 after seeing the Stones play at Richmond's famous Crawdaddy Club.
St Martins Lane and The Ritz
ST MARTINS LANE HOTEL, 45 St Martins Lane, London WC2 (020 7300 5544). Cost: £16 per person. Teatime: 3pm-5pm daily.
Ambience: Afternoon tea Sex And The City style, with a louche selection of cocktails including Passionfruit Pimms and Strawberry Bellini, takes place amid the sleek teak of the Tuscan Steak Restaurant. 7/10
Taste: An impressive range of teas included fresh mint, while the sandwiches took a leap away from tradition with Parma ham, rocket and mozzarella.
The bread, however, was somewhat stale. The cream was dense and the jam dark although the scone wasn't hot.
The high point was the pastries - meringue and passion fruit, cream-ridden fruit and lemon tarts and cream horns. 7/10
Service: Friendly and relaxed although it would have been nice if our waiter had realised we needed forks for the pastries.
A mystery pot of honey added to the impression that the hotel didn't quite understand the concept of afternoon tea. 8/10
Total: 22/30
THE RITZ, 150 Piccadilly, London W1 (www.theritzlondon.com tel: 020 7493 8181). Cost: £27. Teatimes: 1.30pm, 3.30pm and 5.30pm daily.
Ambience: Afternoon tea here has a history and elegance that takes in Edward VII, Judy Garland, Winston Churchill, a piano, silver teapots and fountains. 9/10
Taste: The most expensive and lavish of the five. Circling waiters replenished our plates with sandwiches, then chocolate brownies and fruit cake in case the pastries were not sufficient.
The bread was fresh, fruit cake moist and pastries gooey. If I were carping, I'd say the scones could have been warmer. 9/10
Service: Where one might have expected disdain there was only delight. The pianist insisted on playing baby-themed music for the baby in our party.
The waiters made detours to amuse Peggy, lending her their silver salvers to play with. 10/10
Total: 28/30
The Muswell Hillbillies
It sounds like whimsy, but it's also a hint at the less-than-sunny side of Ray Davies. He is reputed, in 1973 when his marriage was breaking down, to have spent Christmas Day on the Circle Line, drinking cans of Kronenbourg.
From the Savoy Tavern I walk along the Strand to Charing Cross and take the High Barnet branch of the Northern Line up to Archway station on the way to Muswell Hill.
The Archway Tavern had the distinction of appearing on the cover and inside the gatefold sleeve of the Muswell Hillbillies album.
It's no longer the darkwood and etched mirror place it was then, but somehow even more pertinent as a place to gaze into your beer and think, as Ray sang in Muswell Hillbillies, of coming from a nowhere kind of place but dream of places you've never seen - New Orleans, Oklahoma, Tennessee...
Then back on the Northern Line to East Finchley. From here, tree-lined Fortis Green takes me to Muswell Hill where Ray was born 56 years ago and grew up in 6 Denmark Terrace, just opposite the Clissold Arms.
The house, a Victorian semi attached to a joinery workshop, was cramped for a large family.
It was a musical home, with a piano in the parlour, to which Ray's parents Annie and Frederick would weave back from The Clissold Arms with a gang in tow for a singsong.
Here, in 1964, Ray and brother Dave worked out the chords to You Really Got Me, the song that first put them at the top of the charts.
The Clissold Arms is a real Kinks find. The large back bar has a display of Kinks memorabilia.
Among them is a signed copy of the Kinks' first single, a cover of Little Richard's Long Tall Sally, a guitar, a wall of photographs and a small brass plaque which reads: "Site of 1957 performing debut of Ray and Dave Davies. Founding members of the Kinks."
Dave Davies's song Fortis Green goes: 'Mum would shout and scream when dad would come home drunk, When she'd ask him where he'd been, he said "Up The Clissold Arms", Chattin' up some hussy, but he didn't mean no harm.'
If that sounds a bit of a rough pub, be reassured it isn't. Actually it's an ideal place to stop for lunch (Tel: 020 8883 1028).
Only one regret
Frankie points to the very spot where he threw Mason from the car. 'Such a shame,' he says. 'It was a brand-new axe, and I never got it back.'
Frankie's Gangster Tour ends in The Blind Beggar pub on Whitechapel Road, where Ronnie and Reggie shot the gangster George Cornell - the alleged killer of the Krays's cousin.
The twins had heard that Cornell was there and decided to settle the score.
Frankie recalls: 'Cornell was sitting on a bar stool and the jukebox was playing The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore.'
Ronnie walked up to him, pulled out a 9mm Mauser semi-automatic pistol and shot Cornell three times in the head. One of the bullets ricocheted off the bar and into the jukebox. When the track got stuck, Ronnie is said to have grinned and said: 'Well, the sun ain't gonna shine for him any more.'
I ask Frankie if he's ever had any regrets. After all, he's spent more than half of his life behind bars.
He thinks for a moment, then gives a broad smile. 'I've got only one regret,' he says, 'and that's getting caught.'
TRAVEL FACTS:
Mad Frank's London is published by Virgin Books, price £16.99. His Gangland Tour takes place every Saturday from 4 Browning Street, London SE17, takes three to four hours and costs £30 per person. Call 020 7708 5682, 11am-5pm.
John Lennon's drawings
If your ears are still ringing from Remix, wind down by taking the short Merseyrail ride from James Street station opposite the docks to Port Sunlight.
A gentle walk through the garden village built for his soap factory workers in the late 19th Century by William Hesketh Lever (later Viscount Leverhume) took us to the Lady Lever Art Gallery.
Here, every inch of wall space is covered in gilt-framed Victorian oil paintings - Pre-Raphaelites, landscapes by Turner and Constable, portraits by Gainsborough and Reynolds.
Another place for quiet contemplation is Liverpool Cathedral, the monumental neo-Gothic landmark close to the city centre which took the best part of the 20th Century to complete.
As you go in, see the Statue Of The Risen Christ by Dame Elizabeth Frink above the west door.
Inside, beneath the tower, are four large canvases by contemporary artists depicting The Parables.
If you've brought plenty of spending money, browse through limited-edition prints of John Lennon's pen-and-ink drawings from Matthew Street Gallery.
Priced from £450 to £4,700, they make the ultimate souvenir of Liverpool's pop/art heritage.
And if you haven't had your fill, come back in the autumn for the Liverpool Biennial when contemporary art shows will take over scores of venues in the city from galleries to garages.
TRAVEL DETAILS;
The Liverpool Marriott Hotel City Centre (www.marriott.com tel: 0151 494 5018).Virgin Trains serve Liverpool from London, the West Midlands, the Home Counties, the West Country, Carlisle and Scotland. www.thetrainline.com tel: 08457 222333.
The Walker (www.nmgm.org.uk/walker tel: 0151 207 0001);
Tate Liverpool (www.tate.org.uk/liverpool 0151 702 7400);
Conservation Centre (www.nmgm.org.uk/conservation 0151 207 0001);
Open Eye (www.openeye.org.uk tel: 0151 709 9460);
Lady Lever Art Gallery (www.ladyleverartgallery.org.uk 0151 207 0001);
Matthew Street Gallery (0151 236 0009);
The Liverpool Biennial (www.biennial.org.uk).
Education and inspiration at the Albert Dock
The Albert Dock development on the waterfront serves to sum up Liverpool's history. The vast warehouses and quayside were built to handle the biggest sailing ships of the 19th century. But steam made sail redundant and the dock declined, finally lying derelict in the dreary Seventies - a sad monument to lost greatness.
In the Eighties the place was redeveloped as a massive tourist attraction, and now six million people visit every year. There are long galleries of shops, as well as restaurants and bars, including Blue - one of the city's trendiest joints which is patronised by the smart set, including footballer Jamie Redknapp and his pop star wife Louise.
There are three excellent museums here. The Beatles' Story offers a complete 'experience' by means of walkthrough room sets. When I was there a man in his 30s was pointing things out to his two children, explaining about John and Ringo. I realised he was a baby when these events were happening. At such moments you realise your own lifetime is becoming history.
I hope that dad took his kids on to the airy Tate Gallery - at the cutting edge of modern art in the North for more than ten years now. Packed with tourists, students, primary school children having challenging modern works explained to them, and retirees puzzling over exhibits in the Biennial of Modern Art - it was a reminder that art, like Beatles music, is for everyone.
For me the revelation of this trip was the Maritime Museum, which is three-in-one. The Museum of Liverpool Life was another exercise in nostalgia (a piece of ephemera, such as a wrapper, can evoke all the sounds and smells of your early years), but the real fun came in the Customs and Excise Museum, which invites you to guess which person is a smuggler, which parcel is suspect, and so on.
For centuries smuggling was a profitable trade and today 'mules' risk their lives to carry drugs like cocaine and heroin. The genius of this museum is that it puts you squarely on the side of the forces of law. Of course, laws change along with attitudes, and nowhere is this better demonstrated than in the galleries devoted to Liverpool's past as the dominant British city prospering from the slave trade in the second half of the 18th century.
Again, this is an example of modern museum methods at their very best. You sense the personalities of those anonymous thousands: men, women and children from Africa with their own lives, loves and cultures, abducted and sold as chattels to the Western world.
I felt the same sadness and shame as I felt in the Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, Tennessee. Yet it isn't depressing. No visitor to Liverpool should miss this because it reminds us of the great courage needed to change things - and that is uplifting.
A mysterious room
It was my turn to lead now. Walking to rehearsals I had passed a mysterious room, only ever seen before in a fashion shoot for Wallpaper magazine. It was white and glowing.
Clearly it was another bar, but it was empty. A sleek man in a black frock coat guarded the door. We pressed our noses to the window.
'Can we come in?' He seemed uncertain but said: 'Sure.'
The room was lit by an unearthly yellow glow from six four-foot cylindrical bollards. The barman was dressed entirely in black and regarded us from behind a brushed aluminium bar.
'Would you like to go oopstairs?' he asked finally. 'Only we've got furniture and chaiseslongues there.' And indeed they had.
Leather-covered and aggressively square lumps of black padded sculpture were arranged artfully in the middle of a luminescent space. I picked up a drinks menu displaying the legend: 'Stimulation for the Challenging Mind.' Chilled jazz dripped from hidden speakers.
'I rather like this place,' I said. 'But it's in the middle of nowhere,' said Nick. Dear me, it's a tough place, Leeds. We had only walked 20 yards. Sutra had been open for only a week and was owned by a footballer: Rio Ferdinand, no less.
I wish him luck, or at least better luck than Lee Chapman and Leslie Ash had with Teatro. Only a few months ago it was number 11 in a newspaper's list of the most happening places in Leeds, but whatever was going to happen had already happened. It closed.
'They made a basic mistake,' said Nick. 'It announced itself as a haven from the paparazzi for the stars of Emmerdale.'
'So?' ' So what stars from Emmerdale ever wanted to get away from the paparazzi?'
The fullest years of his life
He didn't start painting until he was 41, but he embraced it with unbounded enthusiasm, employing great wallops of colour to sweep away the despair that often gripped him.
There are more than 100 of Churchill's paintings left at Chartwell, leaving you to marvel at how much energy one middle-aged man could have. There is so much more to see - not only in the house but also outside, where Churchill constructed swan-filled lakes and his wife created sweet gardens filled with fragrance.
Churchill knew his house, which is near Westerham, would be left to the nation and ensured it would be shown off in the style of the Twenties and Thirties.
These were the fullest years of his life at Chartwell, surrounded by his four children, and although most of the family bedrooms have been given over to formal displays of Churchill's life, the gardens still echo to the sound of children's laughter.
Today's younger visitors scurry around with clipboards and questionnaires, learning about the Grand Old Man, while in quiet corners you can find old-timers reminiscing, recounting their own war adventures, reflecting upon what was, and what might have been had Churchill not succeeded.
Few visitors seem able to come here without being stirred. I went to Chartwell on a fine day in autumn.
I set my feet where Winston had walked, sat in the shade of trees he had planted, looked out over views he coveted and up at skies which he knew one day would be filled with the tracers and slipstreams of a mighty aerial conflict called the Battle of Britain.
Without the inspiration Churchill found from this place, that battle might never have been fought, let alone won.
Chartwell is a place of dreams, of courage, of the triumph of one man's spirit. Here you can walk with greatness, and breathe the fresh air of freedom, little more than an hour from central London. Winston could never forget, and neither will you.
*Michael Dobbs's latest novel, Winston's War, about Churchill's relationship with the Soviet spy Guy Burgess, is published in paperback on May 5 at £6.99.
TRAVEL DETAILS;
Chartwell, two miles south of Westerham in Kent, is open Wednesday-Sunday from 11am to 5pm. Admission is £6.50 for adults, £3.25 for children and £16.25 for a family ticket. Call 01732 866368.
Where driving is for wimps
We decided that driving round the island was for wimps. There was a perfectly good coastal path that would lead us back to where we started in five days, or three if we were brisk. Sixty miles long, it is not very far from just about everything. But we didn't have the time, so we tried some of the recommended cameo sections.
The 62-mile Round the Island cycle route does the same job, using country lanes wherever possible. Nowhere on the island is further than five miles away from the route. Allow between five and eight hours to get round.
We walked west on the high cliff path from St Catherine's Point lighthouse, over Tennyson Down where the poet laureate walked every day when he lived at nearby Farringford (the Tennyson Trail cuts north and inland from here and runs all the way to Newport).
We tried to imagine the old sailing ships beating down the English Channel, preparing for a refreshment stop at a little pull-in on the coast right here. An entire town is named after the service they provided - Freshwater. At the west end of the island, well after all other modes of land transport have given out, you can rely on the coastal path to take you close to one of Britain's best known sea views, The Needles.
Just once did the path network let us down. At the other end of the island I looked in vain for a Victoria Trail to take me close to Osborne House, Queen Victoria's 'place of one's own' where she often stayed and eventually died.
The Coast Path cuts back inland, so we couldn't walk between Osborne and the sea. Pity. No chance of seeing the beach where, in the film Mrs Brown, gillie Mr Brown (Billy Connolly) - presumably out of eyeshot of his devoted queen - runs naked into the surf.
Literally paved with fish
I finished my tour in the city itself. Fortune hunters, disappointed with the lack of gold underfoot in the streets of London, should try Hull instead.
It is literally paved with fish. You don't go far in the old city without treading on an oar fish or a John Dory carved in York stone, cut in steel or set in polished slate.
Hull actually tells pavement jokes - a dogfish chasing a catfish, a shark outside a bank. Spot all 41 and you get a certificate.
Not so long ago Hull was full of mean back streets where you never went for fear of being tugged down an alley and forced to work as ship's crew.
Now most old port buildings and merchants' quarters are smart architects' offices and wine bars.
My guide led me from Princes Quay, a three-storey shopping centre on stilts over an old dock, to the UK's largest parish church - Holy Trinity - to Ye Old White Harte.
No need to distress this ancient pub's old wood: nothing much has changed since upstairs they plotted the closing of Hull to King Charles.
This year the four (free) city museums, celebrating maritime past and slavery abolitionist Wilberforce, are being refreshed.
Then there's the splendid Ferens Gallery with its Grand Canal by Canaletto. Add The Deep and there's more than you can do in a day.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
Hull trains (www.Hulltrains.co.uk tel: 01482 606388) runs four services a day from London, connections at Grantham, Selby and Doncaster.
The Deep (www.thedeep.co.uk tel: 01482 381000) opens daily 10am-6pm from March 23. Further Information: Hull Tourist Information centre 01482 223559. www.virtual-hull.com
Her spirit permeates
On several evenings during the festival, the Tywardreath Players performed a spectacular stage version of Frenchman's Creek on the ancient quayside of Pont Creek.
In the village hall, the Polruan Theatre Club had a stage version of My Cousin Rachel - the famous story of two bachelor cousins who fall, with disastrous consequences, for the same enigmatic woman.
And so the Festival fun buzzes, with the bookshops stocking every du Maurier novel or biography published, and with special events galore, many of which have no connection with Daphne..
Each art gallery, gift shop, pub and cafe is geared up for the rush. Special boat trips take visitors down river - chugging past Ferryside.
The good-natured Kits lives here still and, when he's in the garden enjoying an evening drink, has grown accustomed to being waved at and having his photo taken.
Local people recall previous Festivals - Ronnie Corbett reducing everyone to hysterics, Cleo Laine receiving standing ovations, Edwina Currie having a go at Ann Widdecombe.
Everyone agrees that it's exciting to rub shoulders with Bob and Edwina in the narrow streets that for most of the year throng with day-trippers and yachties.
There's also the splendid Fowey Hall itself. Built by master craftsmen in 1899, it is unashamedly ostentatious, with baroque plasterwork and costly oak-panelled walls.
Now a hotel, it is a lovely place to stay, and the food is delicious.
It is not known whether Daphne ever visited the Hall, but her spirit permeates every part of the town.
Walking to Fowey Hall, I saw a boat called the Rebecca and a dog called Rebecca.
The hotel receptionist was called Rebecca, and the video on offer for the evening was - yes - Rebecca. Spooky, huh?
Back in Hobbiton
When Tolkien visited, he stayed at a grey-stone Edwardian guesthouse, New Lodge, which is now home to the deputy head of St Mary's and which Tolkien sketched on one of his last visits.
We passed it as we left the lane and made our way down to the school. New Lodge entered Tolkien's fiction as Tom Bombadil's home, where Frodo spends a brief respite from his gruelling journey.
We walked on to the school, where they have the sketch and where Tolkien wrote, in a vacant classroom in the upper gallery, some of the most vivid and dramatic passages of the Fellowship Of The Ring.
The school is breathtaking. With two chapels almost as big as cathedrals, grand staircases and corridors wide enough to drive down, it's like a real-life Hogwarts.
Originally an Elizabethan mansion built by Sir Richard Shireburn (that name again), it was given to the Jesuit order of St Omer in France in 1794 and they moved their school here.
Among the treasures Stonyhurst College owns are a 7th-century Gospel of St John, said to have been used by St Cuthbert of Lindisfarne, a gold cloak worn by Henry VIII, and a chasuble belonging to Catherine of Aragon. They also have the Book Of Hours that Mary Queen of Scots carried to her execution.
No fewer than three former pupils have achieved sainthood, which is not a boast your bog-standard comprehensive can often make.
And, of course, there is the Tolkien connection, which continued when his second son, Michael, taught at the school in the late Sixties and early Seventies. Tolkien, who died in 1973, persuaded him to plant a copse in the garden of the school house he occupied, Woodfields, on the road to Hodder Bridge.
The driveway that took us back to the village stretched out ahead of us, dead straight, for half a mile, flanked by two long oblongs of black water and rugby pitches.
Finally we rounded a bend and were back in Hobbiton. Or Hurst Green.
As even the children had to agree, the map of Middle Earth worked. We hadn't got lost and I'd made my point. As I would be reminding them at frequent intervals.
TRAVEL FACTS:
To arrange a visit to Stonyhurst College, ring 01254 826345. Places to stay in the area include the Bayley Arms Hotel (01254 826478) and the Shireburn Arms (01254 826518). For tourist information on Clitheroe, call 01200 425566.
An antique air
On the footplate among the flying sparks and writhing steam were Don Clarke, the driver, and fireman Bob Baines.
Engine drivers were ever wise men and today you can still learn from them. Once, they said, smoke and cinders from locomotives effectively killed overhead vegetation.
Today's trains do not do that so that when wet leaves fall on the tracks they make trains slip and cause delays, much to the scorn of the public and the Press.
On the other side of the coin, fires in fields and on embankments, once commonplace, are now almost unknown.
While Bob was shovelling his way through 10 tons of coal and Don was watching the gauges (and signals) the rest of us were enjoying brunch - orange juice, kedgeree, croissants, coffee - and somehow Maidstone East looked different over the rim of a champagne glass.
It was not meant to be a fast journey. Almost two hours after we had huffed and puffed from Victoria we arrived at Canterbury West.
This is from where, appropriately, one of the world's first regular passenger rail services, nicknamed the Crab and Winkle Line, ran in 1830 to Whitstable seven miles away with George Stephenson of Rocket fame and his son Robert on the engine and the cathedral bells ringing.
Even today, the white station has an antique air. Outside the booking hall are a line of classical columns and a prim plaque which says that the world's first season ticket was issued there in 1834.
In Canterbury we had three-and-a-half hours to fill.
There was a side-excursion to Whitstable to sample the salty air and the oysters and, in the city, tours of the sights, one by a horse-drawn carriage. Or you could pay to walk around the cool cathedral.
Great kudos for presents
Royal babies are christened in the Music Room, which is utterly breathtaking. You can even stand on the spot where the photograph of the Queen greeting Nelson Mandela was taken.
With the sun streaming through the five floor-to-ceiling windows, the polished parquet floor had an ice rink gleam to it.
The Ballroom is the largest room at the Palace, and one of the biggest in London. It's used mainly for investitures.
It was open for the first time in 2000 and, this year, the sword the Queen uses to 'dub' Knights (touching the left and right shoulder with the blade) will be on display.
Downstairs, in the Bow Room, you join the route guests to the annual garden parties take out into the grounds. There's a crunchy gravel path and a 450m route around the three-acre lake.
Souvenirs are also on sale - from sets of postcards to enamelled boxes and jewellery. I discovered that the chocolates in a tin emblazoned with a picture of the Palace, costing £5.95, have great kudos as presents.
I left feeling uniquely privileged to have had the tiniest glimpse of an hour or two in royal life. I'll be back . . . just in case Her Maj gets fed up with the snooping and has a change of heart.
Travel facts Summer opening of the State Rooms at Buckingham Palace takes place from August 4 to September 30 - timed tickets from 9.30am to 4.30pm. Admission to the Palace and exhibition: adults £11, over-60s £9, under-17s £5.50, family ticket (two adults, two under-17s) £27.50, under-fives free. Advance tickets are available from www.the-royal-collection.org.uk or through the credit card line on 020 7321 2233.The ticket office in Green Park is open 9am to 4pm (July 28 to September 30), for advance and on-the-day sales.
Magnificent harbour
But the west coast is unknown to most outsiders, neglected for years since the collapse of its traditional industries of coal, steel and shipping.
In the last couple of years, a transformation has taken place. Whitehaven, which the PM visited, is now my favourite town in all Cumbria, nay all Britain, all Europe.
Its magnificent harbour has been cleaned up. The Georgian streets and houses, built when Whitehaven became the world's first planned town, are now sparkling. New restaurants and bars are opening, new museums have been created.
All that's lacking are the visitors. Let's hope they come, now the PM has led the way.
He stayed just outside Whitehaven in a modest hotel in the little seaside town of St Bees, known in Cumbria for its public school, which Rowan Atkinson attended, and its beach and bird life.
My dear wife chose St Bees for her birthday treat in May - a walk on the beach and cliffs, pick up a few pebbles, then dinner at Zest in Whitehaven.
Mr Blair could well have chosen one of our more famous luxury hotels in Lakeland, such as Sharrow Bay, where John Major and Paul McCartney have recently stayed, though not together.
It's clearly a new trend for VIPs when they come up here, to muck in, act like ordinary people, stay in humble places.
When Prince Charles visited earlier this year he had bed and breakfast at a farmhouse in Sorrowdale.
There was, of course, an official photo-shoot, to show us how normal he was, and how startled his landlady looked, pouring out his tea.
After the PM departs, the Queen arrives on the final stage of her Jubilee tour of the provinces.
I am one of the invited guests, lined up to meet her when she visits Tullie House Museum in Carlisle.
I plan to ask her to stay the night with us at Loweswater. We have a spare bedroom which is empty at the moment.
If she's worried, I'm sure Tony will tell her about the delights of west Cumbria, and that she'll be safe and comfortable enough - though it might be best to give Barrow a miss, until the outbreak of Legionnaires' disease has cleared up.
Anyway, thanks for coming, Tony. Do pass on the message. People in west Cumbria are owed a few favours.
The Oxford and Caldon Canals
THE OXFORD CANAL - A popular waterway offering panoramic views over Oxfordshire and Warwickshire.
One week: From Lower Heyford north to Braunston - the 'Capital of the Canals'. Highlights include Rousham House and Gardens, and the Bygones Museum at Claydon.
Weekend: Cruise from Lower Heyford into the centre of Oxford with a memorable loop on the Thames.
Operator: Oxfordshire Narrowboats (tel: 01869 340348; www.oxfordshirenarrowboats.co.uk ). From £476 per week or £410 for a long weekend.
CALDON CANAL/TRENT AND MERSEY CANAL - The Caldon is an unsung rural gem, while the Trent and Mersey has many engineering marvels.
One week: Explore the Froghall Basin branch and the ridge-clinging Leek branch of the Caldon. A highlight is the two working waterwheels at Cheddleton Flint Mill.
Weekend: Trent and Mersey Canal. Head north from Stoke-on-Trent's Festival Park Marina through the 2,926-yard Harecastle Tunnel to Hall Green Lock on the Macclesfield Canal and over Red Bull Aqueduct.
Operator: Black Prince Holidays (tel: 01527 575115; www.black-prince.com ). One week from £570; long weekend from £342.
A walk in the Forbidden Forest
At the Goathland/Aidensfield Stores there is an indication, among the Heartbeat tea towels and Claude Greengrass fridge magnets, that these canny Yorkshire folk are beginning to wake up to the potential of Harry Potter as well. There is a Quidditch T-shirt in the window.
Hogwarts school does not have a real-life location here. Indeed, the filmmakers had to travel far and wide to gather the bits that make up the school. Which is not surprising, considering that Hogwarts has 142 staircases, which you can never be sure will lead today where they led yesterday, countless secret passages, numerous ghosts and a Great Hall with an enchanted ceiling that looks like the night sky.
But you can take a walk in the Forbidden Forest. I hopped on a train for one stop to Newton Dale Halt. Except it didn't stop. As I discovered too late, you have to tell the guard in advance if you want to alight in this remote spot. So I had to get off at Levisham, at the edge of Cropton Forest, and walk back.
Stepping away from the station you are plunged immediately into the dark, silent woodland. On either side of the track, regiments of fir trees shut out almost all the light and spread underfoot a deep, soft carpet of ginger needles that completely muffle your footsteps. Which means that when you come upon another person you do so silently, invariably giving each other a fright.
Even the train creeps up on you. The rails are just a few yards from the path but you don't hear the trains until they are almost upon you.
Oxfordshire and Snowdonia
THE LAMB INN, Sheep Street, Burford, Oxfordshire. Tel: 01993 823155
As you step on to timeworn flags and take in the old country chairs and well-polished tables, the discreet amounts of gleaming brass and shining copper, the antique soup tureens on deep-set window ledges, you know you've struck lucky.
Comfortable sofas - including one magnificent settle with a draught-excluding back at least 5ft high - nestle round briskly burning log fires in the three lounges.
After 20 years' devotion, Richard and Caroline de Wolfe have got the style of this mellow stone Cotswolds inn to perfection.
Guests eat wild boar or rabbit, venison or duck at candle-lit tables in the spacious dining room. Breakfast is excellent; bedrooms stylishly furnished.
Centuries ago, when Sheep Street was Burford's main thoroughfare, farmers crowded into what is now the best bedroom, with magnificent four-poster, leant out of the mullioned window and chose which shepherds to hire.
NANTLAS, SNOWDONIA, NT Holiday Cottages. Tel: 0870 4584422, www.nationaltrustcottages.co.uk
The full address - Nantlas, Near Dolgellau, Gwynedd - is hint enough about the romantic isolation of this National Trust holiday cottage, and it lives up to the dream.
You feel safe and sheltered from the world in the snug timber and stone cottage for two set in the spectacular Snowdonia National Park.
Surrounded by magnificent scenery and secluded in the wooded Dolmelynllyn estate, it is close to Rhaeadr Ddu, one of Wales's most spectacular waterfalls.
This intriguing and comfortable 19th-century cottage - recently redecorated and with a spanking new bathroom - was originally built to house a telescope for the scientifically-minded occupants of nearby Dolmelynllyn Hall.
Cosy chairs sit either side of the coal fire, which will be ready laid when you arrive, with set tea tray to hand. Don't forget the champagne, chocolates and groceries - the main shops are about five miles away in Dolgellau.
More properties in the National Trust Holiday Cottage brochure (0870 4584411).
Sunsets and sea-worship
To another Scottish island - the Isle of Mull - and to the Calgary Farmhouse. On a good day you could be in Italy or France, but Matthew and Julia Reade, who have been here for 11 years, do their own thing brilliantly.
There is a tea shop, restaurant, art gallery, the occasional free-range child, a very relaxed atmosphere and tons of commitment.
The restaurant has brick arches, whitewashed walls, polished wooden floors and a simple, crisp country elegance. Matthew renovated the place himself and made the huge wooden chairs in his workshop. Bedrooms fit the mood perfectly, with pretty fabrics and whitewashed walls.
Just a few minutes' walk away is Calgary beach, for wonderful sunsets and days of sea-worshipping.
The pebble beach near the Bailiffscourt Hotel in Sussex is only 200 yards from the front door. The hotel itself is breathtaking - a genuine fake. The architect searched high and low for soft, golden sandstone.
Inside, the big rooms have a medieval atmosphere set off brilliantly by bold colours, rich fabrics and large tapestries on the walls.
There are mullioned windows, heavy, ancient beams, and an entire ceiling of wood in the restaurant.
The bedrooms are just as marvellous - carved four-poster beds, oak chests and waterfalls of cushions. Some doors are 600 years old, the bathrooms are deeply luxurious and decanters of sherry await you. It was built in the Thirties and a magnificent treat for anyone tired of London.
Blackouts and rationing
By comparison, when I visited the seaside resort of Swanage, it looked dull. The beach was deserted, as were the promenade cafes. It was hard to believe Blyton had had a fondness for the place.
Blyton stayed at the Studland Bay Hotel, north of Swanage, and after taking up golf later in life with second husband Kenneth Darrell Waters, bought a local golf club in 1951.
Johnny James, Waters's caddy, was Blyton's inspiration for the groundsman Lucas in Five Have A Mystery To Solve.
It wasn't only the Famous Five books that featured the people and places of Dorset. A swimming pool hollowed out of the rocks at Langton Matravers may have been the inspiration for a pool in First Term At Malory Towers (1946).
A heavy-footed Purbeck policeman, PC Rone, was the model for PC Plod in the Noddy books.
Blyton's books have often been criticised for presenting an unrealistically cosy world but Mrs Baverstock makes an interesting point.
The Famous Five series was begun during the Second World War. Children feared evacuation, invasion and bombing. Blackouts and rationing were part of daily life.
'The whole ambience of the books was to remind children of what life had been like and to assure them that those times would come back again,' she says.
*For further information visit www.dorset-cc.gov.uk or call 01305 221001
Activities and beaches
Activities: Fossil-hunting: Dr Colin Dawes gives expert tuition on Sundays throughout the year, as well as Wednesdays and Fridays from April to September. Meet at The Old Forge Fossil Shop at 1pm; adults £7, children £3.
Dinosaurland Fossil Museum (tel: 01297 443541) offers a clinic for free analysis and guided beach walks.
Ghost and smuggler walks of Lyme Regis with Richard J. Fox. Ninety-minute tours. Details, tel: 01297 445097.
Rent a beach hut (tel: 01297 445175) £35.75, rising to £51.70 per week in July and August.
Deep-sea fishing (tel: 01297 443606). Lyme Regis Museum (tel: 01297 443370), the story of Lyme, including its connections with Jane Austen, Beatrix Potter, Lord Joseph Lister and John Fowles.
Marine Aquarium on the Cobb. Adults £2, children £1.50.
Best beach: Front Beach and Cobb Gate Beach have the finest stretches of sand. Black Ven is the best place to find small fossils.
Serious fossil hunters head for Monmouth Beach to view the grey limestone outcrop known as the Graveyard of Ammonites.
High, crumbling and unclimbable cliffs enclose the beaches and it is easy to get cut off by the tide. The best and safest time to collect fossils is three hours either side of low tide after the sea has been rough.
Further information from Lyme Regis Tourist Information, tel: 01297 442138.
Best thing about resort: Lack of commercialisation, old shops on Broad Street, the Cobb.
Worst thing about resort: Midsummer crowds, especially at weekends. Narrow, steep roads and limited parking lead to appalling jams.
Welded at the hip
There are kiddies' lunches and teas, though youngsters and even babies are welcome in the main restaurant at night. Parents would come with their new-born babies at the beginning of the evening. Rarely would any of the babies cry, but if they did one of the waitresses immediately stepped forward and picked up the child and cuddled it while the parents ate.
Nor was this unusual. The staff seem very mindful of what it takes for a parent with children to be able to enjoy their holiday. They are just as good with the older children.
By the end of the week the staff organising the kids' activities, and who must have seen hundreds of children across the summer, knew my son's name and used it.
There was so much to occupy us at the hotel that during my short stay, I never left. But there is plenty beyond to explore if you are there longer.
One intrepid couple I met would pick up a pile of croissants for breakfast and then go out walking. Apparently there are beautiful views and many lovely walks.
They ambled off with their three children, the youngest just three months. Luckily, their oldest was seven and he and my son welded at the hip.
Heads bowed in deepest concentration over their Game Boys, they whiled away hours leaving this mother free to indulge in a series of treatments on offer at the hotel. Shiatsu. Deep Swedish Massage. And an extraordinary facial which required a plastic mask.
I don't know much about facials as I never normally have them, but this one did quite literally flatten out a few wrinkles. And then a last head-and-shoulders massage on the day we left.
Getting in the car and driving away was hard.
TRAVEL FACTS:
Moonfleet Manor Hotel is on 01305 786948.
Mysterious Longdendale Lights
At bedtime I fell into a four-poster which Oliver Cromwell was reputed to have slept in.
Something about the dark wood and the scary folds of the heavy curtains unnerved me, though, and I couldn't nod off.
Car lights from the road photocopied the ceiling as I lay sweating and they became the Mysterious Longdendale Lights.
The shouted 'Goodnights' of a christening party next door were the disgruntled cries of that audience near Glossop all those years ago.
The next day when I woke up it felt like it was still dark. Rain hissed on the window.
Maybe this is the kind of weather to see Longdendale in, with the clouds low over the hills and the possibility that the man walking down the street in front of you is a Roman soldier.
We drove up to Woodhead and you could hardly see a thing but it was magnificent, orchestral.
Outside the Crowden Youth Hostel dedicated walkers looked at maps.
We drove along the B6105 to the Devil's Elbow, where the Devil was reputed to have had his arm turned to stone so he tore it off and left it there. As you would.
There was no sign of the giant slug that's reputed to slither across the road and on to the moors, so we slipped back into Hadfield for another cup of tea.
There weren't many people in the cafe; just me, my wife, a man with clothes pegs in his coat and a lad with a plastic watering can.
Longdendale: valley of ghosts, memories, strangeness. Stand by the tunnel mouth and feel the wind.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
For further information on Glossop, contact the Tourist Information Centre (www.glossop.com tel: 01457 855920).
Wayside Cottage (tel: 01457 866495) offers B&B from £20 per person per night.
Cold white wine
Michael's fillets are rather small - more like sardines really. Well, bankers, they can do a lot of things. But fillet fish? Strangely, his seem to taste better than mine.
Half past eleven, and we're eating sweet and spicy Portuguese-style stuffed mackerel, washed down with another delicious cold white wine.
Then it's sea bass - beautiful, shiny objects that have to be sculpted into triangles of fillet.
At 1.30pm, we sit down for bass with stir-fried asparagus, washed down with yet another delicious cold white wine.
And so it goes on. Another fish, another lunch. Another lesson well and truly learned.
Including this one - when cleaning squid, do not hack off the head, just because you don't like the way it's looking at you.
You need it in order to pull all the dangly bits from inside the sac. Take off the head and you have to get in there somehow. At least Michael did, while I apologised. Again and again.
Suddenly, it's 4.30pm. People pick up their certificates, vowing to return. I've got a precious reservation at Rick Stein's inordinately expensive seafood restaurant this very night.
At 9pm, the restaurant is buzzing, with none of the restrained hush that clings to the aura of famous chefs.
The staff are friendly, and nobody seems to mind that they had to book months in advance.
I have eaten half of my spinach stir-fry. And suddenly, that's it. I put down my fork. Is something wrong? asks the waitress anxiously.
No, nothing's wrong. It's inspiring. Light and gingery and fresh. Only it's been a long day. Full of fish.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
A day course at the Padstow Seafood School costs from £140. A double room with breakfast is £100 to £210. Padstow Seafood School, Riverside, Padstow. Tel: 01841 532700.
At the Metropole Hotel, Station Road, Padstow (www.the-metropole.com tel: 0870 400 8122), a double room with breakfast costs £72pp a night until end of October, £57 from November to March.
The shining light of St Ives
Gardens - even exciting jungly ones like Trelissick - can be a real turn-off for young children, so after an hour we returned to the cottage to finish off the scones. As we do not have a television at home, it was also a great treat to work through some of the video collection.
The owners have obviously gone out of their way to give holiday tenants a good time and the whole atmosphere of the place was very welcoming. Rosie's only misgiving was that she felt slightly uneasy at having so many family photos and possessions around the house - it made her feel slightly like a trespasser in someone else's home.
That small niggle did not detract from the wish that we could stay here longer, to dawdle in the cottage, spend time on the beach and explore more of the Lizard's coastline, with all those redolent Cornish names such as Pollurian, Predannack, Kynance and Landewednack. But we had just half a day, so, greedy to cram in one more corner of the county, we decided to call at the Tate Gallery in St Ives before starting the drive home.
Of course, we had forgotten that the gallery is closed on a Monday, but that didn't matter for the sun was shining again and, instead of artists's interpretations, we had the real thing.
More cliches - this time about that special St Ives light - and true again. The sea was banded cobalt and turquoise. The beach, at low tide, was an immense expanse of pinkish, peachy yellow, rippled with lilac rivulets.
Edmond loved it and I wondered why people bother to go to the Bahamas. Even the town itself, unlike the vast majority of British seaside towns, was attractive, with hardly a single dud among the dense cluster of attractive houses, jostling convivially on the granite hillside.
There was just time for a final lunch at the beachside restaurant. Dank, malodorous pubs were banished from memory as we sat in the sun enjoying fresh crab salad and a bottle of Chardonnay, with the salt breeze on our faces and the raucous gulls singing the praises of England's most beautiful stretch of coast.
Rolling along the Ridgeway
Next to the path was the Rising Sun pub. I was its first customer of the day. It was so quiet I wondered if I might also be the last. Then, just outside, peace suddenly gave way to war as I turned right on to the Icknield Way, one of England's very oldest routes. Its logo, a neolithic axe, pops up regularly, proclaiming as much war per mile as the average battlefield.
If the Icknield Way is the walker's trunk road, the Ridgeway, which it joins at Wendover, is the motorway. A section of it runs through Goring, on the Thames, and offers some of the finest views in the south of England. It clings to the Chilterns scarp, the steep edge where the land plummets away to the Oxfordshire plain. Turn a corner and the view is liable to open up from 50 yards to about 50 miles.
There's a new star on these slopes; the red kite, easily seen drifting speculatively overhead. The Victorians blasted it to extinction, but it was recently reintroduced and is thriving here. I headed northeast to the territory of Britain's tiniest bird, the firecrest, in Wendover wood. Lucky walkers might just hear its zit-zit call.
The Ridgeway crosses the main A41 and the Euston to Glasgow line, but soon shakes off intrusive modern times in Ashridge, a splendid spread owned by The National Trust - Queen Elizabeth I stayed in Ashridge House. It is a popular film location. The BBC's Ivanhoe was shot in the Golden Valley. In one of the deep and secret clefts a Saxon village was built for First Knight, starring Sean Connery and Richard Gere, then dramatically burnt down.
This path, too, has a stupendous final reel. It bursts gloriously out of beech woods on to Pitstone Hill, rare chalk downland, an ancient expanse of springy turf studded with flowers and dancing with butterflies. Just over the valley is Incombe Hole, one of the deepest valleys in the Chilterns, followed by one of the highest hills, Ivinghoe Beacon.
This is the end of the Ridgeway. Just beyond is Whipsnade Zoo. But I had a train to catch. I headed back to Tring station. Central London in under an hour.
Other traffic-free islands your children (and you) will love:
Some of the following islands allow emergency vehicles, but motorised transport will be rare.
BURGH ISLAND (near Bigbury-on-Sea, Devon). Noel Coward, Agatha Christie and The Beatles have stayed on bijou 26-acre Burgh Island. Cross over the sand causeway at low tide the lurching sea tractor. Lots of cliffs and coves, a 14th-century inn, smuggler ghost, and bird sanctuary.
High point: Burgh Island Hotel, restored to its art deco splendour.
LUNDY ISLAND (Bristol Channel). Takes just over two hours from Bideford Quay, on the MS Oldenburg, to reach picturesque Lundy Island. (Extra ferries from Ilfracombe Pier in the summer.) Three miles long, Lundy boasts a medieval castle, three lighthouses and an admiralty lookout - some of which you can stay in. There's also small campsite. Additional attractions include black rabbits, seals and puffins - the island's name comes from the Norse for puffin.
High point: Basking sharks can be seen in surrounding waters.
HEIR ISLAND (near Skibbereen, W. Cork, Republic of Ireland). One of the smallest inhabited islands off the West coast, approachable by ferry (a four-minute journey from Cunnamore Pier) and from Baltimore in the summer. Features like Roaring Water Bay well describe the rugged landscape, but the West Cork people are known for their gentility. Heir Island is particularly renowned for the wonderful cuisine at Island Cottage, which also claims to be one of the world's smallest cookery schools. Walk, sail and fish, or study the profusion of wild flowers and rare birds. Stay in a rented cottage.
High point: Views of Fastnet Rock, Mount Gabriel and surrounding islands.
SARK (near Guernsey, Channel Islands) The last independent feudal state in Europe, Sark is an island gem, with excellent hotels, shops and horse-drawn carriages. Access is mostly in high season by boat from either Guernsey or Jersey. Cycle along unspoilt lanes, visit the sandy beach. Seafood is a speciality.
High point: La Coupee, a mini gorge connecting the main island with Little Sark.
ARAN ISLANDS (Galway Bay, Republic of Ireland). Home of the famous sweater, the Aran Islands (Inishmore, Inishmaan and Inisheer) are spectacular, rocky and popular with tourists. Arrive by ferry from Galway City, or Doolin in Clare, or fly with Aer Arann from Connemara. Day-trippers head for the largest, Inishmore, but discerning tourists extend their pilgrimage to the unspoilt charm of the two smaller islands, with harbours only big enough for one boat at a time. Inishmaan's pub is alive with traditional music and there's a museum and knitwear factory with shop.
High point: Dun Aengus, a prehistoric fort towering above the cliffs of Inishmore.
Bolton is giving it a go
Paul simply handed over the club to them and they booked the acts. In fact, there were quite a few of the cast in the audience.
The actors turned up, I suspect, because Phoenix Nights is a celebration. There is no sense in which it sneers at the lack of sophistication of Northern clubland, and Farnworth is delighted to find something to celebrate.
Like many other towns in the North-West, it never recovered from the closure of the mills and coal mines.
Nearby Bolton is giving it a go, though. The hotel I stayed at was top notch, the Egerton House, three miles north of the city on the road to Blackburn.
Like a lot of Northern towns, it has some fine Victorian architecture: the town hall, the library and the museum, where you can see Bolton lad Samuel Crompton's spinning mule, which revolutionised the weaving business in the 18th Century.
But what distinguishes Bolton from other nearby towns is a handsome crescent next to the town hall. Built in the Thirties, apparently, and renamed Le Mans Crescent in 1974 in honour of Bolton's twin town, it seems to belong to somewhere like Cheltenham or Bath.
My room at the Egerton House looked out on the West Pennine Moors, and as I woke to a fine clear morning, I decided to wander up there.
There is no solitude like that on Northern moorland and looking down on the mills below - except these days they are not mills, but discount shoe warehouses or arts and craft collectives - it is easy to see the paintings of LS Lowry.
I live in the North - albeit on the other side of the Pennines - and even I enjoyed two days of the full-blown Northern experience.
Phoenix Nights country is as close to the genuine North as you will get. Farnworth is sometimes drab but within minutes moorland and rugged hill country offers as much peace and quiet, and fine rambles, as anywhere in Britain.
It was so quiet up there that when a plane flew past I think I caught myself looking up and pointing.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
The Egerton House Hotel, in Blackburn Road, Bolton, offers rooms. Call 01204 307171 to book.
For further information on Farnworth call the Bolton Tourist Information Centre (tel: 01204 334400).
* Martin Kelner's new book When Will I Be Famous? (BBC, £7.99) is an account of his travels through the dark side of showbusiness.
Was 'flugz' a word?
This is where Jean worked. It's a mark of the secrecy observed by everyone here that it was only when she returned as a guide that Jean realised the information about possible solutions to the Enigma codes that she telephoned from Hut 11 actually went just a few yards, back across the concrete path to Hut 6.
The bombes were the real secret of Bletchley. Left to humans, Enigma would have taken thousands of years to crack.
In its Cryptology museum, Bletchley has an Enigma machine you can try. Housed in a wooden box 10in across and 15in deep, it looks like a typewriter with its own, idiosyncratic keyboard and with cogs at the back like those on a bicycle's derailleur gears. I followed the instructions, cranking the cogs so the letters of the alphabet displayed alongside read DHO.
Then, as directed, I typed GXS. Each time I hit a key a bulb lit up behind one letter of an alphabet set into the top of the machine. G flashed up R, X was L and S was P. I understood from what Jean had told me that in this way I was setting up the coding for my message.
Next step was to move the cogs again so they were aligned on these letters. Simple, huh? I was lost already.
Then I had to key in NQVLY. It came back in lights as FLUGZ. What was this? Should the text come back in German? Was flugz a word?
I gave up, realising that if it had been down to me the Enigma code would still be uncracked - and thanking God for the geniuses of Station X.
TRAVEL FACTS:
Bletchley Park, Bletchley, Milton Keynes (01908 640404). Chicheley Hall, Newport Pagnell (01234 391 252).
A nostalgic trip
No matter how many times you see it, Blackpool Tower remains impressive, especially at night when the graceful shape is picked out in lights. The idea for it came out of an understandable need to keep up with the French; in 1891 certain people thought Britain should copycat the newly-built Eiffel Tower and formed a syndicate to do just that. Up it went - 2,493 tons of steel and 93 tons of cast iron resting on four great legs on huge blocks of concrete 35ft square and 12ft thick.
I took the lift to the platform 480ft up, and gazed at the view (you can see 70 miles on a clear day) across to the Isle of Man and the hills of the Lake District. Peering down, you see your tiny fellow holidaymakers swarming like ants on the promenade - and I felt faintly queasy to be standing up in the sky on a socking great chunk of Meccano.
It's impossible to imagine a visit to the town without taking some time to watch the enthusiastic and talented amateur dancers in the Tower Ballroom, where the mighty Wurlitzer rises from the space beneath the stage to thunder Blackpool's anthem, 'I do like to be beside the seaside'.
The vast room is spectacular - gilded plaster with swags, shells and cherubs, painted panels and crimson plush. The parquet floor is set in a pattern of interlocking stars and grids and above the tiered balconies are elaborate escutcheons containing the names of composers in wonderful curly script: Grieg, Liszt, Chopin and so on. It all seems grandly genteel - far removed from the karaoke bars and flashing arcades outside.
I sat for ages as the couples twirled in elaborate routines, moving with such grace you could fancy (for a moment) that all life was about harmony.
Then the couple I was watching had a quarrel and Mr stalked off the floor, followed by furious Mrs - and I realised that even this part of Blackpool is about real life. Family life.
A dad escorted his little girl on to the floor, followed by a middle-aged woman who tenderly led a very old lady into a slow waltz.
I felt emotional as I remembered my parents dancing there - them so young and me so proud - and realised just how much this trip was about nostalgia, both for my own past and for a way of life that hasn't entirely gone.
True tea-room country
Gastronomy is what The Vineyard is all about. People who know wine say their list of some 500 varieties is the best in Europe. I can believe it.
The two lists - one Californian, the other the Rest of the World - are more like catalogues, pages and pages of possibilities.
The waiters offer help but Jonathan decides to tough it out, choosing in the end a Californian white because it has the same name as friends in America. Now that's what I call a wine buff.
And the food lives up to expectations. Delicate portions, strange and unexpected flavour mixes - the smoked haddock comes with a mustard sherbet (yes, frothy) and the salmon with smoked eel macaroni - yet it all works wonderfully.
Next morning we taste the slower life, dawdling in and out of the antique arcades. Whatever previous generations have cherished or abandoned you can buy it here, from regimental badges to horse brasses, from silver hairbrushes to jugs in the shape of, well, anything.
This is true tea-room country - in the early Fifties, before Betjeman's television career took off, Penelope opened her own tea rooms - King Alfred Kitchen, near Wantage.
To further supplement their meagre poetic income, she also ran the Mead Waterfowl Farm and, sure enough, when we wander down to the Kennet and Avon Canal, there are ducks bobbing up and down poetically in the bright Berkshire sunlight.
Not that the dog cares - unable to chase them, all she wants is a walk - so we take her up to Hungerford Common, a huge, slope which begins the climb up to Inkpen and Coombe Hill.
Inkpen has always jealousy guarded its rambling routes and most of the walks round here bring you back to Coombe Gibbet, still standing bleakly on the ridge above.
After an ebullient lunch in the Swan Inn on Inkpen's Lower Green, we decide it's time for an antidote to the shiny luxury of both The Vineyard and Wendy's Party.
We combine the drive home with a visit to the Sandham Memorial Chapel. Outside, this is a dull-looking, non-conformist red-brick building but inside it's a masterpiece, the walls entirely covered with murals by Stanley Spencer. No luxurious comfort here - scenes of First World War trench agony - but it's unique and not to be missed.
'The thing is,' I say as we set off back to London, 'Betjeman was so nice to write back to me like that. He must have received hundreds of letters. He needn't have. I wish I could have told him that I at least became a writer and I actually shared a stage once with our current Poet Laureate...'
'Yes,' says Jonathan, 'But remember what Andrew Motion told you then? That he spends at least half of his day dealing with all the correspondence!'
I try to ignore this uncomfortable detail as we speed back into the blue-orange glow over London.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
The Vineyard at Stockcross (www.the-vineyard.co.uk tel: 01635 528770). For further information on John Betjeman and Uffington call Tom Brown's School Museum (tel: 01367 820259).
It was truly exhilarating
'This ditch is more than 5,000 years old,' yelled Jonathan as the boys and dog charged down the slope and up the other side while Chloë and I made a more sedate progress across the roadside bridge.
The six of us then followed the chalky outer ridge of the ditch right round the village.
Yes, it was wet, yes, it was muddy, but it was truly exhilarating to look across the valley and see the entire site unfurled: rings of stones, modern cottages and ourselves mere stick insects picking our way over a prehistoric landscape.
Back in the car, muddy and wet, it suddenly dawned that we now had to present ourselves at a rather chic hotel.
A mile-long, arrow-straight avenue of over-arching beeches and limes guides you towards Lucknam, a perfectly formed 18th Century manor house.
But we needn't have worried - arriving at Lucknam is rather like bowling up at your best friend's stately pile, with its log fires, wall-to-wall books, pots of tea and trays of cakes. Our muddiness went unnoticed.
Our room, complete with a four-poster so enticingly high there was a footstool to help you up, also had an adjoining sitting room with stunning views over the Wiltshire countryside.
Built in 1720 and set in 500 rolling acres, of which five are formal gardens, Lucknam was a private residence until 1988 and still has an inherent homeliness.
Once the children had bounced on their beds and swum in the pool, they discovered - oh joy! - a snooker room and a table tennis room. We barely saw them again.
Helmsley, North Yorkshire Moors
HELMSLEY, NORTH YORKSHIRE MOORS
Helmsley, on the edge of the North Yorkshire Moors in Ryedale, is a little market town with big connections.
There are riverside walks, traditional tea rooms, four former coaching inns and a ruined castle - the town's Royalist stronghold was blown up by Cromwell's men in the Civil War.
The real action begins at the market cross - start of two of the finest paths in the North.
Heading south is the 70-mile Ebor Way. Officially classified as easy, it runs through the gentle low-lying countryside and woodland of the Vale of York to York (24 miles) and then heads west via Tadcaster and Wetherby to Ilkley.
Or are you tough enough for the Cleveland Way? This epic route runs for 108 miles in a broad horseshoe round the North York Moors National Park.
When it reaches Saltburn it snakes south via Whitby and Scarborough, finishing at Filey. If you want to dip in rather than walk the full distance, the entire route is accessible by buses and trains.
Pick of the public transport is the North York Moors Railway. Steam trains weave down through Heartbeat-style moors from Grosmont to Pickering.
Tourist information: Town Hall, Market Place, Helmsley YO62 5BL (Tel: 01439 770173)
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Thanks to Keiller's marmalade, the site is magnificent. Alexander Keiller, who inherited a huge amount of money, had a passion for archaeology.
During excavations in the Thirties he found out where the standing stones should be. If they'd fallen, they were put up; if missing, replaced by obelisks.
Unlike Stonehenge, the prehistoric builders chose the stones for their shape and left them alone.
They act as escorts, guiding you into the sacred site, or channelling you down the processional avenue.
Even in the sceptical 21st Century, the stones exercise their ancient power. While a toddler photographed his mother with an apple, others placed their hands on the protector of Avebury, the Adam and Eve stone.
Without superb homemade refreshments and Andrew's conversational explanations, I wouldn't have got as much out of the weekend as I did.
The monuments would have simply maintained a stony silence. Instead, we were given a tantalising glimpse into the mysterious world that was inhabited by our ancestors.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
Andante (tel: 01722 713800) offers Walking Weekends in prehistoric Wessex. They take place in July and September and cost from £100, which includes transport from Salisbury and three meals.
For more information, contact Salisbury Tourist Office (www.andantetravels.co.uk tel: 01722 334 956
Views to Salisbury Plain
When I had finished imagining the battle in 1643, I walked over to Roundway Hill Covert, an uplifting mix of ash trees and sunny, grassy openings where there are summer flowers and butterflies.
From a seat on the mile-long trail I took in views to Salisbury Plain.
The Civil War story is told in many museums - the new Banbury Museum is one of the best; the Royal Armouries in Leeds has some of the finest armour and weapons displays.
In 1996 a hoard of coins was unearthed in the grounds of Tregwynt, a country house near Fishguard. They were buried around 1648 to save them from the Roundheads. See them in the National Museum in Cardiff.
A complete Civil War tour would take months. So do it in bits.
Worcester was the site of the final battle. Parliament's victory at Marston Moor in Yorkshire turned the tide. Newark was forever being besieged. A great defensive works, the Queen's Sconce survives. You can still see where a cannon ball knocked a hole in the church spire.
Then there is Dunbar, where, in the shadow of the Lammermuir Hills Cromwell recorded one of his greatest victories in 1650. He did it without Fairfax, who had fallen out with his leader.
The film has to use a completely new set of Civil War locations. Not only do hedges and roads rule out much of the countryside as a film set but town and cities too have changed beyond recognition.
So instead of recreating Charles's execution outside The Banqueting House in Whitehall, the movie makers persuaded Hampton Court to give rare permission for the beheading to be filmed in its grounds.
But the biggest change was Dover Castle playing the part of the Tower of London - 'because the Victorians completely mucked the Tower up,' the director said sadly.
TRAVEL DETAILS:Civil War Trail:
www.civilwaroxon.org. Brochure from Southern Tourist Board, 40 Chamberlayne Road, Eastleigh, Hants SO50 5JH; 023 8062 5400. Fax: 023 8062 0010. www.southerntb.co.uk/home.htm Tourist Information Centre, Oxford: 01865 726871.
Most houses associated with the Civil War are open in the summer months. Battle sites and museums are open all year round.
Groom in a pink dress
Offshore 44 is one of Newcastle's oldest pubs, with a drinking history that dates back to the time when the press-gangs ensured that the inebriated woke up in the service of the Royal Navy.
After a quick drink there it was off to Jimmy'z, a couple of doors down.
Alan, from Camberley in Surrey, was part of a stag party who were all wearing identical little black dresses. 'Impulse buys. We saw these Welsh guys this afternoon all in dresses and we got inspired by them.'
There were eight of them, although two were currently missing, including Neil the groom, who was in a pink dress. 'It's been very interesting. Very liberating. Using ladies' loos, deciding on shoes. Do you think my bum looks big in this?' I tried to be reassuring. 'Black is very slimming.'
He was, it was clear, having a great time. 'Fabulous city - loads of fun, no hassle.'
'That's useful if you're wearing dresses.'
'But women get very excited when we go in to the ladies' loo,' he said happily before breaking off for a spirited rendition of My Way.
It was closing time but thanks to some queuebuster tickets (£12) we were able to breeze into Sea, a converted market building where once the city's fish was sold.
Self-guided tour
Self-guided audio tour
In advance this seems like the most independent tour, but it soon felt more like a ball and chain. The dull, slow voices sound like primary school geography teachers and even tell you where to stand, barking at you: 'Walk 60 metres to the right. Stop here. ZigZag recommends you use this spot to take a photograph.'
The free delivery/ collection to central hotels is useful, but if you're arriving for a day trip it's impossible. What you see: Five different tours featuring the Houses of Parliament and Royal residences. Best joke: Not a single smile-raiser in two hours. Worst bit: Headphones kept falling off and the player wouldn't fit in my pocket. Price: £10 for tape, player and map, delivered/collected at any address in Central London Verdict: 3/10 Dull, slow and awkward. Contact: ZigZag Audio Tours, 52 Temple Fortune Lane, London NW11 7UE; 020 8458 5310, or go to www.zigzagtours.com or e-mail info@zigzagtours.com
Clubs and coffee bars
The Hope & Anchor: Islington's Hope & Anchor at 207 Upper Street, was a seminal pub-rock venue hosting Dr Feelgood and Ian Dury's first band, Kilburn And The High Roads.
In the late Seventies all the big punk bands played there. Later, U2 played their first London gig there - but with only nine people in the audience.
The Hope & Anchor is still going strong with live music six nights a week.
Heddon Street: David Bowie had flu when he posed for the cover photograph of The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars on a cold, rainy night in January 1972.
Bowie is captured outside 23 Heddon Street, just off Regent Street.
The Troubadour : This famous coffee bar on the Old Brompton Road opened in 1955, and by the early Sixties it was hosting live folk music in the basement.
A young Bob Dylan played there in 1962 and Rolling Stones drummer Charlie Watts got a lucky break there when he met blues impresario Alexis Korner - who invited him to play at the Marquee Club.
Wimbledon Stadium: Queen rented Wimbledon Stadium for a day in 1978 to shoot the video for their double A-side single Bicycle Race/ Fat Bottomed Girls and 65 naked models were hired to stage a nude bicycle race.
Afterwards, bicycle suppliers Halfords refused to take the saddles back and insisted the band pay for replacements.
*Rock 'n' Roll London by Max Wooldridge, with a foreword by Malcolm McLaren, is published by New Holland Publishers, £12.99.
Beer-sticky Northern Railway Tavern
On my way up Fortis Green I passed number 87, the home Ray bought when he was married to Rasa whom he'd met when she was still a Bradford schoolgirl and mad-keen Kinks fan.
They had two daughters and it's Rasa's falsetto that you hear on the backing vocals of Sunny Afternoon.
Ray and Dave went to school around here and went rock and rolling at the local hop. The Athenaeum, where Sainsbury's now stands, was the dance hall featured in the song Come Dancing.
Athenaeum Place is still there like the inspiration for a Ray Davies vignette - a beggar on the corner, and cobbles leading to a former Victorian church that is now an O'Neill's 'Irish' bar.
I walk down Priory Road, high enough to see London at your feet, first the trees and terraces of the lesser houses in the valley, then the City's tower blocks and Wren churches, finally Canary Wharf, grey and blinking in the winter sunlight.
On Priory Road I find myself in another Kinks vignette as I reach the beer-sticky Northern Railway Tavern, step over a yawning dog in a tartan coat and pass a Baptist church with the sign reading, 'Heaven Knows when You were last Here'.
I'm headed for the last outpost on my Kinks tour: their recording studios, Konk, on Tottenham Lane in Hornsey.
A blue neon sign spells out the name above the door. It's a windowless, beige-painted pebbledash place. Very anonymous, very North London rock star.
Such scenes are so evocative you could write a song about them.
Or at least, you could if you were Ray Davies.
For more information on all aspects of the Kinks, including locations go to
www.cguweb.com/bigblacksmoke/bbs.index.html
The city that's young at heart
The prosperity of Liverpool's past becomes clear if you walk through the city. At ground level you will be distracted by shop fronts, banks and people; raise your gaze to appreciate the fine architecture - from the tall merchant houses where, as a mere girl, my grandmother was 'in service', to the lavish onion domes and fancy plasterwork of Castle Street.
The same can be said of St George's Hall, the Walker Art Gallery and The Liverpool Museum. These are buildings on a grand scale which helped form my own awareness of the wonders of the world, of history and of art.
It's a delight to revisit and find them thriving as ever. During my weekend trip, the Art Of The Harley exhibition opened at Liverpool Museum - rows of creatively customised motorcycles proving that this traditional museum is as forward-looking as the rest.
Now I realised how proud I am of my birthplace. I love the bizarre glamour of the Catholic cathedral, and the fact that the gothic Anglican Cathedral is the largest in Europe. No half measures in the 'Pool. These magnificent contrasting buildings are linked by a street called Hope, which sums up what I feel about the city.
Braving the chill winds I took the Mersey Ferry (just a form of transport in my childhood but now a 'heritage cruise'), looked back at the waterfront's justly famous buildings, and knew that sometimes you have to go away for years to feel afresh that you belong.
This wasn't sentiment, this was real excitement. The city has always had heart but now it has rediscovered its soul. Which is young, vigorous, educated, confident and knows how to have a good time. Even better, how to share it, too.
A relatively recent renaissance
Kevin, as Yorkshire as they come, dated the city's renaissance from relatively recently. 'Ten years ago the streets had rubble in them,' he said. Then the only real attraction was the home of the 'old tyme' music hall, Leeds City Varieties. It still operates.
'Variety acts are a bit thin on the ground, these days, though,' thought Kevin.
'What about New Variety?' I asked.
'I'm not sure they're ready for men juggling chainsaws yet,' said Nick.
They were less enthusiastic about the Royal Armouries, where Britain's biggest collection of swords and spears has been put on view.
'They have jousting shows there!' Kevin looked uncertain. I'll go sometime. I'll get out to the sculpture park, too. And, once rehearsals have finished, I'll go shopping.
There is a Vivienne Westwood boutique in the middle of Alan Bennett's beloved arcades. These are great, soaring, lovingly detailed monuments to bygone shopping trips.
But you should take time to visit the more down-market Leeds Market, too: stuffed with produce, mind-bogglingly cheap by London standards, and guarded by hundreds of red metal dragons holding up a first-floor balcony.
Next door to the North Bar I could not help noticing Wampum, Leeds's premiere Native American shop. It sells an extensive collection of tomahawks, head-dresses and teepees. Mmm.
For the moment, my most happening place in this most happening city is the West Yorkshire Playhouse. Shall we be the next most happening thing in town? Happen we shall.
Horse And Carriage runs at the West Yorkshire Playhouse until December 1. For tickets call 0113 213 7700.
TRAVEL FACTS:
Details on 42 The Calls, a converted corn mill, Available on 01132 440099. For further information on Leeds, call the Tourist Information Centre on 0113 242 5242.
A glass of wine
It was a hot day and I was tempted but I had been to the cathedral half-a-dozen times and I thought it probably had not changed a lot. So I walked along the cobbled St Peter's Street to the Weavers' House, one of the city's oldest places, and sat drinking a glass of wine in the riverside courtyard. It was a good choice.
There were some landing steps to the clear and narrow River Stour, and above them a nasty-looking ducking stool. You could only feel sorry for the one-time witches and scolds of Canterbury.
But from here you can now embark on a happier if not quite so dramatic adventure.
A rowing boat, with a strong young man at the oars, takes up to 10 people on a 40-minute trip that is not so much through the city as under it. In our boat was a French nun, her white habit shining in the sun.
The little river curls at the backs of buildings and under bridges so low that it is no good going if you cannot duck.
At the oars was Duncan Brekell who had just finished at university and was filling in time before having to get a job in the real world.
'I'm in no hurry,' he said pulling the oars slowly, 'for the job.'
Every bridge had a tale harking back centuries or, like the High Street Bridge more recent.
As Duncan propelled the boat under it by pushing on the tunnel roof with his feet (the origin, he said, of the phrase 'legging it') he told us: 'During the War, an American soldier, who had taken a fancy to Kentish ale, decided, for a bet, to drive his tank over the bridge. The bridge and the tank ended up in the river.'
Other Royal haunts to visit
Royal Pavilion, Brighton: Queen Victoria sold this because she thought the town was getting a bit over-run, but as royal follies go, this one tops the bill. An extraordinary experience.
Tel: 01273 292822.
Hampton Court: The best way to go is by boat along the Thames.The Maze is the highlight for children, who whoop with excitement as they negotiate the half-a-mile of paths to the centre. Henry VIII buffs will relish every minute. Tel: 020 8781 9500.
The Banqueting House: Pop in here - it's opposite Horse Guards in Whitehall and just steps from the entrance to Downing Street. The ceiling is the gem - painted by Rubens and a marvel. Visitor line: 020 7930 4179.
Kensington Palace: Part of it consists of grace-and-favour apartments for members of the Royal Family, but it is indelibly engraved on most people's memory for the sea of flowers placed at the gates after the death of Diana, Princess of Wales. There is an impressive collection of court and royal costumes from the 18th to 20th centuries on display. Tel: 0207 937 9561.
Osborne House: This is where the film Mrs Brown, starring Judi Dench and Billy Connolly, was partly shot, and it propelled Queen Victoria's seaside home to contemporary prominence. It is pure magic. Make sure you don't miss the replica of a Swiss chalet, where the royal children must have had a far more idyllic childhood than their mother's stern image implies. Tel: 01983 200 022.
The South East
THE SOUTH EAST - Broxbourne is far enough away from London to escape.
One week: The River Lee and the London Ring. Cruise south from Broxbourne past the Royal Gunpowder Mills to Limehouse Basin and on to the Thames.
Join the Grand Union Canal at Brentford, through Little Venice and Camden, before rejoining the River Lee.
Weekend: River Lee to Hertford. Travel north on the Lee through pretty countryside dotted with pubs. For more locks, slip up the Stort to Bishops Stortford.
Operator: Lee Valley Boat Centre (tel:01992 462085; www.leevalleyboats.co.uk). One week from £521 or long weekend from £411.
MORE INFORMATION:
Call British Waterways on tel: 01923 201120 or visit www.britishwaterways.co.uk
For cruising fleet options, call Waterways Holidays UK on 0870 747 2934 or visit www.waterwayholidaysuk.com
Drifters (www.drifters.co.uk or tel: 08457 626252) is a consortium of boat operators with a late-booking service (Latelink 01905 610550).
For advice on Thames sailing, contact the Environment Agency on 01189 535000.
Very Slow Residents
I strode on purposefully, but dark clouds had extinguished the autumn sun, the wind had picked up and the first spots of rain were falling. No doubt I'd just been reading too much Harry Potter on the train, but the people I met here did seem rather odd.
None was as strange, admittedly, as Hagrid, the giant Hogwarts gamekeeper who has his hut here, but weird enough.
There was the trainspotter who stalked off along the rails, camera at the ready, while his wife - in an affecting picture of ennui squatted in the mud, poking at a puddle with a stick. And the two men with plastic bags held aloft, skipping through the undergrowth. Blackberriers? Perhaps. And the three people pushing a van that had got stuck in the mud - two from the rear, one at the front pushing against them. Should I tell them? Should I help?
Time also seems muffled in the forest. I'd been walking for what seemed like plenty of time to reach the station when I came across a cottage, and a sign reading Very Slow Children. I would have asked, very slowly, how much further I had to go, but no one answered my knock.
I plodded on through the drizzle to a place very aptly named Raindale, and found another sign: Very Slow Residents. They'd be the parents of the very slow children then.
Finally, I found the little rustic platform and, oh joy, a train was steaming towards it. Even better, it stopped!
As I sank into my seat I flicked through my guidebook and learned that this place has a legend of its own that predates J. K. Rowling.
Just beyond the forest is a place called the Hole of Horcum. Legend has it that Horcum, a giant, had an argument with the Devil and scooped up a handful of earth to throw at him from the moor, forming the hole of Horcum, a deep, unnatural-looking hollow in the moors.
They don't invent tales like that around here any more. Or, rather, they do!
Easy-going panache,
Back to the bucket-and-spade type of beach: on the North Cornwall coast, we have found a splendid inn, close to the wonderful beach at Trebarwith.
It is famous for its surfing, its shallow beach, its sand and its busyness in summer. The Mill House Inn, a short walk away, is another world.
It has the mood of a stylish London bistro within an old pub. Somehow, it manages the trick of being both.
The dark bar has easy-going panache, with old floorboards, gnarled wooden tables and blissed-out tunes.
The dining room over the stream is crisp and elegant, with a tongue-in-cheek formality.
The bedrooms have the simplicity needed for a beach hotel, no pretensions but style and colour.
If you are tough enough to swim in a Scottish loch then the Pool House Hotel on Loch Ewe is one of the prettiest I know.
Britain is richer in fine beach hotels than one might imagine. Those awful beach hotels for which we are famous, with their conference rooms, swirling carpets and massed ranks of cane chairs in huge conservatories, are still here.
But if you rethink 'beach' and remember that there is more to do by the water than laze in a deck-chair, then you will discover that Britain has dozens of hidden 'beach hotel' treasures.
Alistair Sawday is the author of Special Places To Stay - British Hotels (ASP, £11.99)
The miracle of tungsten
It twinkles in the lights along the promenade at night, a fairy-tale vision of stars and space-ships and all sorts of clever, changing themes, which remind you how the most ordinary place (and people) can be transformed into something special.
The illuminations began in 1912 as a smart ruse to extend the holiday season into autumn. It worked; on one of my visits last October I think I must have bagged the only hotel room left in town.
You don't have to be a child to be enchanted by the spectacle - although you do see hundreds of children poking their heads out of sunroofs while Dad drives slowly along. Seventeen million visitors come to Blackpool for at least one day each year, and when you see the illuminations you understand why.
Each child oohing and aahing at the miracle of tungsten will have the image imprinted on his or her mind forever, just as it was on mine. Reminding them, along with the smell of fish 'n' chips, the silly hats and candy-floss, that one side of human nature never changes - the need to have some mindless fun every so often.
Travel facts For further information on Blackpool Pleasure Beach call 0870 444 5566. For general information on Blackpool visit www.blackpooltourism.com or call 01253 478222.
The manic meaninglessness
Dogs aren't allowed in the hotel, but are welcome to walk - and run - in the grounds as long as they don't frighten the horses (there's a full equestrian centre at Lucknam, for beginners or experts).
It also has a spa treatment centre.
The hotel's food verged on the best we've had anywhere, ever, with a varied and wildly imaginative menu that alters slightly every night.
Two nights later we drove back via more stones. After the wind-whipping experience of Avebury, Stonehenge, with its ticket booths and fenced-in pathways, seemed somehow weedier, tamer.
Maybe it's like the Sphinx and the Statue of Liberty - so often pictured and imagined, it can only ever turn out smaller than you expected.
Yes, it's perfectly formed, but it lacks the manic meaninglessness of Avebury.
Back in the car, we asked the kids if they'd enjoyed themselves.
'Two days was nothing,' grumbled Jacob.
'Two weeks!' cried Chloë. 'That might be enough time to stay and do everything!'
'I want a high-up bed like yours next time,' said Raff.
'And I want a snooker table,' said Jacob. 'A full-size one like that.'
TRAVEL FACTS:
For further information on Avebury call the National Trust on 01672 539203.
Details on Lucknam Park from 01225 742777.
Loch Lomond and the Trossachs
LOCH LOMOND AND THE TROSSACHS
The largest expanse of freshwater in Britain, Loch Lomond was designated a National Park last year along with the glens and lochs of the Trossachs.
Less than an hour from Glasgow and not much more from Edinburgh, Loch Lomond is the geological heart of Scotland where Highlands and Lowlands merge.
The Loch Lomond Shores visitor centre offers views from a seven-storey castle, explains one of the richest habitats in the UK, and proposes a feast of walking ideas. A cinema shows The Legend Of Loch Lomond. There are picnic areas, a pebble beach, children's adventure playground and boats.
Access to the loch shore used to be restricted, now much of it is open to walkers. Only your legs will tell you when to stop - preferably after you have seen one of the resident golden eagles.
One of Scotland's best long-distance trails, the West Highland Way, runs along the entire east shore of Loch Lomond on its way from Milngavie, outside Glasgow, to Fort William.
Tourist information: Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park HQ, Old Station, Balloch Road, Balloch G83 8SS (Tel:01389 722600)
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| | | | Synchronised hen and stag parties
Now it's one of the Tyne's biggest meat-markets, with two floors of cheerful dancing - the top one offers the best views of synchronised hen and stag parties.
And Lee and Paul, two Newcastle men who wanted to make two Southern girls feel at home.
'I went to London once and if you don't mind me saying, I found it a bit, well, studenty,' said Lee.
'There didn't seem to be many pubs where you could have a bit of a dance.'
Eventually, after several beers and having shaken off the shackles of cynicism with a good dance, Debbie and I staggered back to our hotel.
There was a sign. 'The Copthorne welcomes the University of Newcastle graduates of 1967. Sponsored by Saga.'
TRAVEL DETAILS:
GNER has train fares from London King's Cross to Newcastle from £33 return. Details: www.gner.co.uk tel: 0845 722 5225.
The Copthorne Hotel: www.millenniumhotels.com tel: 0191 222 0333.
Amphibious vehicle tour
Frog tour
Riding through Central London and then plunging down a slipway into the Thames would be a thrill anyway - the live commentary is an extra. The revamped military DUKW amphibious vehicle was used in the D-Day landings. This is the only tour of London during which you will travel both over AND under Westminster Bridge. What you see: From County Hall to the Thames via Whitehall, Hyde Park Corner and Pall Mall. Best joke: Outside the Passport Office: 'If you look in the window you'll see Mohamed Al-Fayed queueing for a British passport.' Worst bit: Guide 'welcomes gratuities' and stands alongside exit. Price: £15 for 80 minutes (children £9, family of four £42). Verdict: 8/10 Informative, memorable and fun. Contact: London Frog Company, County Hall, Westminster Bridge Road, London SE1 7PB; 020 7928 6162 or www.frogtours.com, or e-mail enquiries@frogtours.com
Return to Victoria
There were two small ancient priories, one on an island and one sitting beautifully among the summer trees. 'That one is the property of a window cleaner,' said Duncan of the second.
'He's called Don and he owns various Canterbury properties. He lets local organisations use them for free.
'You can still see him with his cart, his buckets and his ladder in the city.'
We went past the backs of sunlit houses, secret gardens, bending trees, the river lapping, a moorhen paddling with its young.
The silence was overwhelming down there in the cellars of a busy city.
It was a deeply satisfying day. I spent 20 minutes in the cathedral then back to the station where the express was noisily getting up steam.
We returned to Victoria via Folkestone where we picked up water. The passengers, by that time, were picking up wine glasses at dinner.
TRAVEL FACTS:
For details of excursions by Cathedrals Express call Steam Dreams on 01483 209888 or visit www.steamdreams.co.uk Prices start at £39.50 for a standard return to £129 for Premier Dining which includes champagne, brunch and a three-course dinner. To book Canterbury Historic River Tours (£4.50 per journey) call 07790 534744.
Find the locations
Where to find the locations:
HARRY'S HOME, PRIVET DRIVE, LITTLE WHINGING, SURREY
Real location: Picket Post Close, Martin's Heron, on the outskirts of Bracknell, in Berkshire. They wanted a perfectly normal suburban street for the home Harry shares with the Dursleys - his aunt, uncle and cousin Dudley -and found it here. The houses in Picket Post Close have leaded light windows, mock Tudor beams and attached garages. Scenes shot here include one in which an owl delivers a letter to Harry's door. The row of houses was also replicated at Leavesden Studios in North London, where work on the film was completed.
To visit: Martin's Heron is off the A329, just past North Ascot if travelling from London. At the roundabout take the first exit, heading south on the B3430 New Forest Ride, turn left into Setley Way and first right into Picket Post Close, but spare a thought for the residents in this quiet culdesac.
LITTLE WHINGING ZOO
Real location: London Zoo's imposing reptile house was used to film the scenes in which Harry goes along on cousin Dudley's birthday treat. An escaped snake terrorises Harry's spiteful cousin. To visit: London Zoo is in Regent's Park. Tel: 020 7722 3333.
DIAGON ALLEY
Real location: London's Charing Cross Road is the stepping off point for Diagon Alley, the Leaky Cauldron pub and Gringotts Wizard Bank. In the book and film, Hogwarts' gamekeeper Hagrid leads Harry up Charing Cross Road, through the Leaky Cauldron into a courtyard at the back, where by pressing on a particular brick he gains access to the wizards' shopping street of Diagon Alley. Australia House, the Australian High Commission, in the Strand, stands in for what J. K. Rowling describes as 'a snowy white building that towered over the other shops'. Its Exhibition Hall, with its gothic columns and acres of marble, becomes the fictional banking hall at Gringotts.
To visit: The heightened terrorist alert means that guided tours of Australia House have been temporarily suspended. Telephone 020 7379 4334 for further details.
PLATFORM 93/4, KING'S CROSS
Real location: King's Cross was used, but with Platform 4 standing in for the secret Platform 93/ 4. Trains packed with extras stood at Platforms 3 and 5. To visit: King's Cross is by the Euston Road and is on the Circle, Metropolitan, Victoria and Northern Tube lines.
HOGSMEADE
Real location: The village where the train takes Harry is Goathland. The railway shop became the Prefects' Room and the Ladies' loos became the Wizards' room. The village will be familiar to viewers of Heartbeat, in which it doubles for Aidensfield. The North York Moors Railway runs regular steam trains between Pickering and Grosmont. The train was filmed steaming along the stretch of line at Newton Dale, to the south of Goathland, where it runs alongside Cropton Forest.
To visit: Goathland is just off the A169 between Pickering and Whitby in the North York Moors National Park. North York Moors Railway: Tel 01751 472508.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL:
Real locations: Several around the country came together to create Hogwarts School.
They are: Alnwick Castle, Alnwick, Northumberland: The scene in which Madam Hooch gives Harry and 29 other classmates his first broomstick lesson is filmed on the grass within the ramparts at Alnwick Castle. It was also used for the Hogwarts House Cup Quidditch matches.
To visit: Alnwick Castle is open daily April 1 - October 26. Tel: 01665 511100.
OXFORD UNIVERSITY SCHOOL OF DIVINITY AND DUKE HUMFREY'S LIBRARY:
When Neville, who is nervous of flying, breaks his wrist while trying to master his broomstick, he is taken to the hospital wing. Oxford University's Divinity School, part of the Bodelian Library, became the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey takes care of the students. Duke Humfrey's Library was transformed into the Hogwarts library, presided over by Madam Pince.
To visit: For tours of Divinity School and Duke Humfrey's Library call 01865 277224. For general information: Oxford Information Centre on 01865 726871.
GLOUCESTER CATHEDRAL: The scene in which Peeves the Poltergeist throws walking sticks at the students was shot in the cloisters of Gloucester Cathedral, which were also used for numerous corridor scenes. The north end of the cloisters was the entrance to Harry's house, Gryffindor, guarded by the fat lady.
To visit: Gloucester Cathedral phone 01452 528095. Gloucester Tourist Information Centre call 01452 396572.
HARROW SCHOOL: Professor Flitwick's charms class was shot in Harrow School, North-West London, in what is the country's best-preserved 17th Century schoolroom, complete with wainscot panelling, benches, tables and chairs. Among the names carved into the desk is that of Winston Churchill. To visit: Become a pupil.
DURHAM CATHEDRAL: The Charter House, which is on the east side of the cloister, became a classroom, complete with oak benches and desks, a high-backed chair for the teacher and a blackboard with occult doodling on it. The cloister itself was used for a scene in which Harry walks with Hedwig, his owl, before the bird flies away. To visit: Durham Cathedral, 0191 3864266. Durham Visitors Centre, 0191 3843720.
THE FORBIDDEN FOREST
Real location: In addition to Cropton Forest, near the village of Levisham in the North York Moors, Black Park in Buckinghamshire was also used. The park, 530 acres of woodland surrounding a lake, has been the setting for many films because Pinewood Studios adjoins it. To visit: The park is just to the north of the A412 and four miles west of Uxbridge. Buckinghamshire parks information line: 01753 511060.
GODRIC'S HOLLOW
Real location: The Wiltshire town of Lacock was used to film Harry's parents' home. The church of St Cyriacs was transformed with fake gravestones and a sign declaring the area as The Parish of Godric's Hollow. Filming also took place at Lacock Abbey, a former monastery. To visit: Lacock is owned by The National Trust and is near Chippenham. Contact: Abbey, 01249 730227. Museum, 01249 730459.
Exmoor, Devon and Somerset
EXMOOR, DEVON AND SOMERSET
Its proud eyes gazing high, the red deer was as fine a sight as anything on the plains of Africa.
We found it kneedeep in heather on one of Exmoor's trademark sudden slopes, tumbling away to a wood-cloaked stream. This is the only place where red deer are found, truly wild, outside Scotland.
We stayed at Exford, deep in the Exmoor National Park, where the Friday night company in the pub was convivial. There's a friendly youth hostel and the fine White Horse Inn, next to the old stone bridge over the River Exe.
Footpath signposts beckon at almost every field gate. The choice from 600 miles of rights of way, including bridleways, ranges from the easiest stroll along the Exe to the Macmillan Way West (supported by the cancer charity) which crosses Exmoor at the end of a classic cross-England route.
The Exe Valley Way runs 45 miles across Devon between the Exe Estuary and the heights of Exmoor.
The Two Moors Way connects Dartmoor with the Bristol Channel on the top of Exmoor. And that's where we ended up, walking the South West Coast Path, taking in the huge panoramas to beaches far below.
Tourist information: West Country Holiday Line Tel: 0870 442 0880
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| | | | Double-decker bus tour
Big Bus tour
Award-winning open-top double-decker bus service with guides on board and organised by uniformed staff at designated bus stops along three different routes around the city. The Red Tour - Tower of London, St Paul's and Piccadilly - can take up to two hours and you can join and leave when you like. What you see: Three different bus routes featuring a different selection of London's main sights. Best joke: The London Dungeon shows you how they used to torture people; these days they make you come on a tour bus instead. Worst bit: Schedule is very complicated. I wasted a frustrating hour trying to find the right bus at the right stop going in the right direction. Price: £15 adults, £6 children, for hop-on, hop-off day ticket covering any of their bus routes, walking tours and boat trip from Tower Bridge to Westminster. Verdict: 7/10 Big operation, big choice, big value, but big headache when it goes wrong. Contact: The Big Bus Company, 48 Buckingham Palace Road, London SW1W 0RN; 020 7233 9533 or www.bigbus.co.uk
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| | Destination Guide : England |
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| | | Historical beauty |  | Why go on holiday to England?
If you're looking for a combination of beautiful landscapes and historical places then England has it all - from the ancient towns of Bath and Stratford to the stunning countryside of the Cotswolds, Derbyshire and the Yorkshire Dales.
How much does it cost?
Accommodation will almost certainly be your single greatest expense. For cheaper prices, try local B&Bs - starting from £15 a night. For hotels, expect to pay anything from £40. A good place to start is the local tourist information office where you'll have the choice of a classification and grading system.
When should I go?
In the summer months (July and August) it can feel like the whole world has travelled to England. With so many tourists it might be best to visit in spring or the autumn, when prices are lower and you'll have more room to move.
The least hospitable months are November through to February, when it's cold and the days are short.
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| | | Country lanes |  | What should I do when I'm there?
Depending on the time at your disposal, historic towns and cities worth seeing include London, Oxford, Salisbury, Bath, Wells, Durham, Chester and York.
For the coast head to Land's End or St Ives in Cornwall, or to Scarborough in north Yorkshire. For a rural treat try the Cotswolds, Devon, the Lake District or Norfolk.
What activities can I do?
There are some great walks to be found around the English countryside. Every tourist information centre has details (usually free) of suggested local walks that take in points of interest.
With every village and town surrounded by footpaths, there's no excuse not to enjoy the countryside.
How about cycling?
Travelling by bicycle is an excellent way to explore England. Away from the motorways and busy main roads there's a vast network of quiet country lanes leading through peaceful villages. Many towns and cities also have a network of cycle lanes.
The British Tourist Authority publishes a free booklet which is useful for finding different routes.
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| | | From the Bard to drum 'n' bass | | Where's good for nightlife?
There is much competition among the major cities as to where the current "scene" is - by no means assume that it's solely concentrated in London. London's West End offers great theatre, but so do many other towns and cities.
From nightclubs to the theatre and comedy clubs, designer bars to the traditional pubs, the selection on offer is endless. Birmingham, Manchester and Liverpool all have lively nightscenes.
There are also countless cultural events in small villages and towns. Your best bet is to go to the local tourist information office to find upcoming events and art festivals.
What's the food like?
Traditionally English food has had a dismal reputation, but fortunately things have improved a lot, especially in southern England. If you like pasta, pizza and curry you won't be disappointed.
There are now also good vegetarian restaurants to be found in most main towns and cities. The local pub is a great place to find a cheap meal, though the quality is variable and the choice often unimaginative.
What should I buy?
It depends on where you are - regions of England often advertise a local speciality like Dorset apple cake or Banbury cakes. In truth, there are very few things you can buy that are unique to England, but exceptions include Royal Worcester Porcelain - ornate bone china with a Royal Warrant.
Every major city will have a main shopping area - London, for example, has Oxford Street, Bath has Milsom Street.
What is there for children to do?
There are many places for a fun day out that the whole family can enjoy, from Legoland in Windsor to the amusement parks of Chessington World of Adventures and Alton Towers, in Staffordshire.
On the coast there are many funfairs and amusement parks to keep youngsters occupied and plenty of good beaches. There's a huge range of good, hands-on museums too, such as London's Science Museum.
Tourist office
Tourist Information Service, 12 Regent St, London W1. Tel. 020 7370 7744 or the 24-hour helpline on 0905 123 4000 for outside London and 0905 123 5000 for London (50p per minute).
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| | Available rental properties in England |
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Why Rent With Us
