From Tapas to Tor Ridges: A Week on the Move

After catching up with friends in Manchester, what started as a city stopover quickly spiraled into one of the most memorable weeks of my journey so far.

The trip began with a scenic drive past the Ribblehead Viaduct -North Yorkshire showing off again -before landing in Manchester just in time for tapas and a surprise bachata performance. I spent the next couple of days reuniting with old friends: wandering Castlefield Viaduct with a uni mate, a reclaimed space now filled with greenery thanks to the National Trust, and grabbing a Sunday roast with the ski group I’ve kept up with since our solo-traveller holiday last year. That evening took a turn when a gym session turned into dinner with new people -completely unplanned, and all the better for it.

Originally, I was meant to head east towards Norwich. But plans change, and instead I camped in the Peak District. I hiked the Tor Ridge loop - Mam Tor, Back Tor, and Lose Hill; barely dodging a rainstorm that passed just out of reach. Tired (and a little smelly), I turned in for the night in my tent. From there, I toured the Devil’s Arse (yes, really) - a 100m-long cave with a fascinating history, used by rope makers and now concert-ready. The guide was equal parts historian and comedian. Highly recommend.

From there, I drifted south and stopped off at Silverstone—because how could I not? The hotel staff there pointed me to the rooftop bar for the best view over the track, and they were absolutely right. On my way out, just as the sun started dipping, I passed by Stowe House near Buckingham. The sky had turned molten, casting this incredible glow over the long straight road that leads up to the house. I pulled over without thinking—camera in hand, engine still ticking. Some sunsets don’t give you a choice. Later that evening, I found a quiet car park through the Park4Night app and tested out the DIY car bed build. Woke up to sunrise, climbed a hill nearby, and soaked it in. I rarely catch sunrises, so when I do, I make it count.

Now I’m in Kent, staying with my sister. It’s been full of walks around Canterbury, a cider festival, a trip to the White Cliffs, and a lot of love from two Hungarian wire-haired Vizslas who are fully convinced I’m the best uncle around.

Next stop: Brighton for a week of dog sitting. Still winging it. Still loving it.

From Durham to Kent, and some stops along the way the way