In the forest, or in the woods?

This blog is about family travel around the world without leaving the UK. We do this in a bid to be less polluting and tackle climate change while at the same time keeping a global outlook. Well except when I'm describing trees. I tend to call British collections of trees "woods" whereas the bigger chunks of wooded land found throughout Europe (and in Democratic Republic of Congo or the Amazon) I'd definitely call a forest. Words by Nicola Baird.

Sycamore just coming into leaf (or is it horse chestnut, I'll
have to go back and check).

On a spring day the Ashridge Estate is a beautiful woodland to visit walking distance from Tring train station. At 5,000 acres it's one of the largest areas of deciduous trees owned by the National Trust in England. You can picnic, draw or go for walks, kids are encouraged to try den building or tree ID. Indeed the National Trust seem so keen to get us out and about that you can even hire electric golf buggies if you're not fit to walk in order to take a wood-bath (as the Japanese call it) in the mostly beech woodlands. And then there's also a great cafe which serves cake, tea and BBQ burgers.

Not my dog, my friend's dog enjoying the smells of a big wood
on the Ashridge Estate, Hertfordshire.

My dog loves to visit the Ashridge Estate too. And as I've discovered during my explorations there is a fantastic pub in Aldbury village just below the woodland. This means that I can sometimes even lure my partner along for an afternoon walk if it is followed by a pint. Perhaps because it's called The Greyhound Inn it lets well-behaved dogs in one of the bars.

Along the paths you often hear families chatting... some call this lovely place a forest, others a wood. In the UK I'm not sure I've ever been into a forest. They exist - there's Nottingham Forest and the gradually expanding forest of newly planted trees in the Midlands. I've been into many woods though - and some have seemed vast. The Ashridge Estate is beautiful but I also love the oak, hornbeam, silver birch and ash woodland (despite its brutalist conifer plantation) at Trent Park.

This sweet note was pinned on to a tree in my local park. Just behind it is
a young sapling which was grown from a cutting taken from the tree that
Anne Frank in Amsterdam used to look at during her incarceration in the
Annexe. It's amazing what stories trees could tell.
(C) aroundbritainnoplane.blogspot.com

But perhaps the best bit of wood is always the one nearest to you - a place to enjoy every season and every weather.