There’s not a speck of snow in sight. Sheep graze in the nearby field, a reminder that this is Essex, not Lapland. And whilst it isn’t the most authentic of Santa settings, that’s exactly who we’ve come to meet. Not in a grotto, but on a train...Continue reading
I'm in a Gloucester forest, axe raised to shoulder height, staring at a tree. "Come on, Jo, give it a go," encourages instructor Paul. So I give it a go, slicing the blade into the trunk, and before I know it timid hacks have progressed into thwacking, mighty chops, until...Continue reading
We’re standing on a muddy track, hemmed in by gorse bushes, staring each other out. My adversary’s glossy eyeballs bulge out of their sockets like chocolate eggs. He flares a nostril and lifts his upper lip defiantly.