With a multitude of presents to wrap, a turkey to buy and red cabbage recipes to puzzle over, there was still only one pl...

The hall’s full of bike bits, there’s a ton of washing (make that two tons) scattered across the floor and a well-thumbed copy o...

I’ve interviewed Professor Tanya Byron several times over the years and she talks more sense about children and teenagers than a...

At 9 every Saturday morning a posse of cyclists speed down the street, clad in sleek (and very chic) black and white biki...

As we drove south, through olive groves, lavender fields and dusty tracks twisting up the scorched Provençal hillside, I felt more and mor...

Bike fever has hit House With No Name with a vengeance. The bike rack on the car grows more sophisticated by the day, the house is full of g...

School’s out for my teenage son, who’s finished his scary exams and plans to spend the next six weeks on his bike. His new obsession has co...

Selfridge’s, Cos, Space NK, The Hambledon in Winchester – just a few of my favourite shops. But I reckon the emporium I’m going to be freque...

My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw the email. “Hi Emma,” it read. “We know quite a few places to do dirt jumping. Are you an e...

My teenage son’s bike is his pride and joy so he was even more stunned than me by a new report that says one in ten of today’s children can’...

I wrote my very first blog in March 2006, sitting on a bench at the local park while my intrepid son performed scary stunts on his skateboa...