ulverstonULVERSTON! OH ULVERSTON!

Okay, not quite the lines Glen Campbell wrote but he might have if he’d ever visited the vibrant town of Ulverston on the edge of England’s magnificent Lake District.

Bohemian Mojo headed there recently on a tour of the North of England. First we walked on famous Hadrian’s Wall; the northern tideline of the Roman Empire. Wonderful.

Read more ...

As we walked up the steep track sunk between two moss covered banks Stephanie and I paused to look at the patchwork of trees and fields stretching across the valley.  

As we walked up the steep track sunk between two moss covered banks Stephanie and I paused to look at the patchwork of trees and fields stretching across the valley.   

We were on a quiet pilgrimage walking through an easterly wind stiff with cold sweeping.  Below us smoke curled from the chimneys of  the quintessentially English village of Ramsbury. In the distance its equally picturesque neighbour, Aldbourne, was hidden in the folds of a hill. 

Read more ...

Lord it blew. How it blew! 

The gravel hard rain had stopped but the wind was still pushing us here and there as we scurried along the harbour side looking for somewhere to eat. And then the Cornish storm literally pushed us into the doorway of what, at first glance, seemed to be a whitewashed cottage on the quayside. But there was a menu posted in the doorway and, hopeful, we stumbled out of the gale into a hearty welcome. We’d found Outlaw’s Fish Kitchen and we were about to experience an assault on our senses to rival the weather’s blast outside. 

Read more ...

Because you just never know when you’re going to need to call on your inner Hunter/Gatherer.

There’s always something... 

These were the famous last words as I headed to the airport after my last Bohemian Mojo adventure.  It had occurred to me that each time I have attempted to leave the country, some crazy and random situation happens; typically, something that ends up delaying me.

Read more ...

The idea of foraging conjures images of grubbily rooting through muddy undergrowth in the heart of some primeval forest. This was only half true on our amazing day with Fred Gillam, the foraging wizard. The morning we met Fred was cold, windy and threatened of a downpour as we piled in the car, trying our darnedest not to be victim to Mojo Meantime again! Today we were foraging with Fred Gillam, the amazing forager. We didn’t yet know just exactly how amazing he was but were excited to find out.  I have to admit even though I was excited to sightsee I was a little skeptical at what we might be foraging at Uffington White Horse which was where we to start our adventure for the day.  What could we possibly forage on an open hillside? Didn’t foraging require the dank, damp, and brooding underbelly of ancient forests???

Read more ...

Sometimes we get things wrong and sometimes, unintentionally, we don’t provide our readers with the full picture. To that extent we’d like to fess up to an incomplete article we wrote a couple of years ago when Bohemianmojo posted an enthusiastic and complementary piece on the pleasant town of Frome in the UK’s West Country.
Read more ...
Page 3 of 5