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[gallery ids="539,540,538,532,536,534,541,543,542"] My favourite way of spending a Sunday afternoon, and avoiding homework, used to be to unzip my mum's tartan suitcase filled with photos collected since her childhood. On the hallway shelves sat large, beautifully presented photo albums, containing what were to be considered the...

[gallery ids="516,518,519,520,521"] Heritage, where do we find our heritage? My mother's family are Scottish, yet she was born in South Africa. My father's family are fiercely Welsh (my grandfather Cliff Bere wrote the Welsh Republican Movement Manifesto and had a taste for burning the Union Jack) yet...

[gallery ids="457,448,452,447,446,451,458,456,455,450,449"]   This morning the air was thick and quiet. We slept for hours longer than we should have, we stretched our tea drinking out until our bladders were bursting and we socked our feet until our wellington boots couldn't fit. Eventually, Jon, Bramble and I ran...