Sheldrake Press is an independent non-fiction publisher now in its 40th year. Under its founder, Simon Rigge, a partwork and series book editor by background and a bit of an idealist by inclination, it has built up a reputation for original, meticulously finished and attractively illustrated books.Its main subjects are travel, architecture and design, history and cookery, with gift stationery books illustrated by Kate Greenaway as a sideline. A belief in environmental conservation lies behind many of its publishing decisions.
Continuing our 40th anniversary celebrations, this month we want to hear your wildest travel story. Funny, exciting, romantic, we’re all ears. Win this competition and we’ll give you a copy of Wild Italy: A Traveller’s Guide by the intrepid hiker Tim Jepson.
In our Wild Escape Competition, Liz Cleere described a trek in the eastern Himalayas to visit a slice of wild India that people rarely see and Helen Moat recounted the magical night she and her young son Jamie spent in the company of glow worms in Britain’s Peak District. Liz Cleere is the winner.
Gorkhaland’s Wild West by Liz Cleere
The freshly brushed floor of compacted cow dung was smooth and cool under foot. I crossed the room, climbed into the heavy wooden bed next to Jamie and blew out the candle. Night crept in through the open window bringing with it the intoxicating scent of gardenias, and quietening the moths and insects that had been dive-bombing the candle’s flame. Curling up under the blanket, my body relaxed on to the hard mattress, while outside pale moonlight whispered through the forest on the other side of the valley. Somewhere on the horizon Kanchenjunga’s five tiger-toothed caps glinted silver against the black sky.
Wild in Cressbrook Dale by Helen Moat
‘Wake up, little fellow. It’s time…’
My child of four sat bolt-upright in bed, eyes glassy from dreams of wild things.
‘…It’s time for our wild night out,’ I whispered.
It was a warm summer’s evening in June, the light of the day gently fading out; the air beginning to cool. Jamie’s small chubby hand fitted perfectly in mine, like a Russian doll within a Russian doll, as we slowly descended the stairs. On the kitchen table, a rucksack sat ready, the items needed for our adventure laid out beside it.