The 15 best day trips from London

London's unstoppable nature – its restaurants, bars and vibrant energy – are hard to resist. Yet sometimes, a brief escape is just what's needed. The city's prime location makes countryside or coastal adventures wonderfully accessible. Whether it's fish and chips on the Kent coast or a wander through a quintessential stately home, high-speed trains and scenic routes from the capital make exploring England's beauty achievable in a single day out. We've selected 15 of the best day trips from London, ideal for recharging without requiring a weekend away.
All our recommendations below have been hand selected and tested by our resident destination expert to help you discover the best things to do in Cape Town. Find out more below, or for further inspiration, see our expert guides to London's best hotels restaurants, nightlife, shopping and things to do.
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Best for culture
Blenheim Palace
Taste upper crust English life
This grand baroque masterpiece – the birthplace of Winston Churchill – is one of Britain's finest stately homes. Marvel at gilded state rooms, explore the great lake's mirrored reflections and stroll through Capability Brown's parkland. It's also brilliant for families with an epic adventure playground to keep the kids happy. Events and exhibitions run year-round too, and, in summer, rowing boats are available for hire. Blenheim's picturesque nearby village of Woodstock also offers boutique shops and gastropubs for lunch.

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Daily Mail​

3 hours ago

• Daily Mail​

Rush hour commuters face massive disruption at one of Britain's busiest railway stations as blaze breaks out beside track

Rush hour commuters at one of Britain's busiest railway stations face lengthy delays after a fire broke out next to the track. National Rail is warning of cancellations and delays for passengers travelling between London Paddington and Heathrow Airport following the blaze. It has since been confirmed that the fire near the track at Acton Main Line has been extinguished, allowing trains to run through the station again. Passengers are being told there will be a 'major disruption' until 10pm with delays up to 35 minutes. In an update, National Rail confirmed the fire has been extinguished and that 'journeys running through this station to begin to run as normal again.' It said: 'Until service recovers, trains running between London Paddington and Heathrow Airport / Reading may still be cancelled, delayed by up to 35 minutes or revised. 'Major disruption is expected to continue to impact services until 22:00.' A notice at the station reads: 'Due to a fire next to the track between London Paddington and Reading some lines are blocked. In an update, National Rail confirmed the fire has been extinguished and that 'journeys running through this station to begin to run as normal again'. Pictured: A Great Western Railway train stopped at London Paddington 'Train services running to and from these stations may be delayed by up to 30 minutes or revised. 'Disruption is expected until 8pm.' A Great Western Railway spokesperson said: 'Due to a fire next to the track between London Paddington and Reading some lines are blocked. 'Train services running to and from these stations may be delayed.' Passengers have taken to social media to vent their frustrations of the rush hour delays. One user wrote: 'Huge delays at Paddington outward bound to all destinations. As usual with, there is no info, just surley unhelpful staff who don't give a damn. More examples of UK's worst run railway.' Another added: 'Acton main line area set on fire now I'm stuck at Paddington sweating my balls off.' While a third said: 'Paddington is at a standstill.'

The Sun

3 hours ago

• The Sun

I visited UK's best kept secret that feels like the Cotswolds without the price

EXPLORING the cobbled streets of Stamford, I feel like I've stumbled across one of the UK's best-kept secrets. Why fork out huge sums for a getaway in a Cotswold s town when you can visit this stunning Lincolnshire lookalike for considerably less? 2 2 The town is filled with buildings made from honey-hued limestone, while gabled pubs dating back to the 1200s lean drunkenly against their neighbours. And what it lacks in members' clubs or gaggles of celebrities, it makes up for with its charming locals, a down-to-earth tribe more interested in making last orders at the Tobie Norris pub than bagging tables at Michelin-starred restaurants. It's at the wonderfully wonky Tobie Norris in the centre of town where I meet pint-puller Evie. The pub's name is a nod to Tobias 'Tobie' Norris, who purchased the building in the 1600s and transformed it into a bell foundry. Evie pulls out some photos of its past and tells me: 'From the 1950s it was the RAFA club. My grandparents used to come here and play war games.' Of the many original features that remain, my favourites are the misshapen flagstones and enormous fireplace surrounded by pew-like seats. Stamford's 600 listed buildings include numerous churches built by God-fearing traders, the oldest of which is the timber-roofed All Saints Church, mentioned in the Domesday book. It's so historic that Roman artefacts have been found beneath it, although Stamford's golden era was the Middle Ages, when its location on the Great North Road, connecting London with York, transformed it into one of England's most prosperous wool towns — a place where wealthy wool traders could rest and refuel. Their presence fuelled numerous other industries, many immortalised by the street names. Bugle Lane, for example, was once home to craftsmen whose brass instruments were snapped up by passing carriage drivers. Martin Lewis warns about strict passport rule that could see you board your flight - only to get sent home on arrival Glance down as you pass the inns which line the main thoroughfare of St Mary's Hill, with its arched stone bridge spanning the River Welland, and you'll notice many walls have built-in boots-scrapers, used by traders to remove the horse dung which once carpeted Stamford's streets. And outside several other buildings are raised stone platforms, designed so that ladies could step directly from carriages into residences without risking dung-related disasters. With such character, it's hardly surprising Stamford has doubled as a backdrop for many period dramas, including 2005 movie Pride And Prejudice, starring Keira Knightley. Tiny turtle skulls Featuring in that film was 16th century country mansion Burghley House. Today, it's owned by the Burghley House Preservation Trust, established by the late 6th Marquess of Exeter, whose granddaughter currently lives there. But it's still open to the public. One of its most fascinating rooms is the Elizabethan-era kitchen, with its nine-metre-high ceilings and 250 original copper pans nailed to the brickwork. Slightly less appealing is the collection of tiny turtle skulls affixed to another wall. My guide points to a turtle-shaped antique soup tureen and tells me that these were nods to the Elizabethans' love of turtle soup. Upstairs, in a room once slept in by Queen Victoria, a member of staff reveals that upcoming roof repairs are expected to cost £750,000. Lucky, its Capability Brown-designed gardens, which cover 12 acres of the estate's 15,000, are still in good nick. Make sure to refuel in Burghley House's Orangery, where the afternoon tea includes cakes garnished with flowers from the gardens. I was staying around a five-minute drive away at Candlesticks, an eight-room hotel on a quiet lane near Stamford's centre. The building dates back to the 1700s and has been a family-run operation since it opened as a hotel in the 1970s. I tell Nelio Pinto, who runs it now and whose father came from Madeira, how I've always wanted to head to the Portuguese island to hike its levadas, the ancient man-made waterways. But Nelio waxes lyrical about his love of Stamford and tells me about nearby Rutland Water, a wildlife haven covering ten square kilometres, as well as Stamford's pretty riverside parks. Perhaps Madeira can wait, after all.

Times

4 hours ago

• Times

My hack for a family hiking holiday? Take the ski lifts in the Swiss Alps

A week before our hiking holiday in the Swiss Alps, I realised we might have a problem. We'd driven out into the Kentish countryside for a short walk — barely a stroll — through dappled woodlands and across a sunny meadow, as a test run of attire and attitudes. The scene couldn't have been prettier, the temperature more pleasant, the snacks more bountiful, but barely 15 minutes in: mutiny. 'We hate walking!' my children erupted. 'We're too tired! Can we go back now, this is horrible!' Their dad and I exchanged looks, and reached for the Mentos (nothing hastens pace like sweet bribery). This bucolic romp was nothing compared with what we had planned for the following week's summer holiday. We were headed for the Swiss Alps, for a self-guided, multiday hike, carrying all our kit, taking in high mountains up to almost 3,000m, with no chance of pressing pause as we'd be moving on each day to a different hotel in the next valley. We did have a trick up our Gore-Tex sleeves, though, a holiday and parenting hack to make this kind of challenge possible even for whingy bairns whose legs ache — honest they do — after ten minutes on a flat path. And that was ski lifts. They continue to whirr in summer in increasing numbers of Alpine resorts, in a bid for year-round tourism in the face of climate change, helping mountain bikers and hikers scale high peaks that kiss the plan was to take advantage, riding up then walking down, making it far easier for the children (if not our ageing knees). Lenzerheide, an upmarket, under-the-radar Swiss mountain town, was our starting point, a three-hour drive north from Milan airport (Zurich is closer), where we hired a car. Through Italian lakes traffic we skirted south of Lake Como, stopped for pizza by Lake Lugano, then drove up into the vivid green foothills of the Swiss region of Graubünden, where the road turned snakey and the high mountains reared into view. That our first stay, the Lenzerhorn hotel, had an indoor pool meant the children — Heidi, ten, and Hamish, eight — were on board with the holiday from the off, and didn't complain about putting on their hiking boots next morning as we set out past chic boutiques selling designer skiwear and elegant leather boots to ride the PostBus (the service that links even the remotest Swiss villages) a mile along the teal-green Heidsee lake to the Rothorn Bahn cable car. Among dirt-spattered mountainbikers in bulky body armour, here for the bike parks and trails that weave down the mountainsides, we hopped aboard the gondola and watched them from above as we swung up into wispy cloud, until rows of icy peaks and turquoise lakes spread before us. From the bare-rock crest of Parpaner Rothorn (2,861m), once a centre of iron ore mining, and from where they say you can spot a thousand other peaks, we would descend northeast to Arosa. A not-small amount of meticulous plotting and planning, and a few evenings spent poring over maps, had gone into our self-designed route. Because while various tour operators arrange Alpine hiking holidays, none exactly fitted our specifications, with a downhill focus and special places to stay. We know the Alps well, and what we came up with was, I think, a brilliant five-day plan through blockbuster scenery, covering 4-8 miles every day, going from Lenzerheide to Arosa, to a mountain refuge in the Sapün Valley, over to Davos, then looping back via a slightly different route. During that first descent, all the natural elements that make an Alpine holiday so wonderful soon burst forth between the crags: green bee-buzzed pastures, clouds of butterflies, tiny wildflowers in so many shades our game of taking turns to spot something of each colour of the rainbow was too easy. Other games of guess the animal and 'granny went shopping' passed the time. I relished hours just talking to my children, and they liked having our attention, even if my son, who had recently discovered Minecraft, only wanted to discuss that. For hours. At least the views were riveting while my education on Piglins and Villagers ensued. After three miles we came upon Älplisee, a lake of the brightest blue, cold as ice and so shiveringly delicious to swim in that after following the path along the shore we had another dip at the other end. Why not? Carrying all our stuff on our backs meant our swimwear and trek towels were always to hand. Down and down, and then another unexpected treat — a mountain inn of dreams, Alpenblick, neat and chic like most in Switzerland, with a sun deck serving joyous slabs of berry tart (£7) and a local unfiltered beer ( I'm not sure the children had even noticed they were on a hiking holiday yet. • Discover our full guide to Switzerland The inn had rooms but our beds awaited down in the valley in Arosa, at a converted TB sanatorium — there were dozens in the area in the early 1900s. Revamped as the cool Faern hotel in December 2022, it featured globular lighting, abstract grey/black art, and brass and matte black fittings in place of medical wipe-down white. Wes Anderson but monochrome was the voguish effect. Alpine walking holidays traditionally mean refuge dorms and basic family-run farmhouses where gingham was the last design feature introduced. I'll never forget, years before, the dishevelled hiker washing his feet in the only bathroom basin at the Theodulhutte above Zermatt, sticking his toes right up inside the tap we needed to use to brush our teeth, or the offer to kip on hay bales in a cobwebby barn in Austria's Wilder Kaiser region for an 'authentic farmstay experience'. These days the Alps have become rich pickings for stylish, contemporary hotels — some upmarket spas, others reinventions of cute wooden chalets made luxe. It was to one of these we were headed next on our shortest walk, three and a half miles, but the greatest climb (555m) — though only after a sweetener of a swim in the Faern's indoor lazy river and a game on its tennis courts to keep the kids onside. • Best hotels in Switzerland They marched out into the sun, revived and, dare I say, even excited for the hike ahead. Beside Lake Obersee, where holidaymakers were out on pedalos as if it were the Med, we caught a little red train 15 minutes down the valley to Langwies, watching it curl back on itself as it looped over a viaduct. Our path rose through a forest full of butterflies and unfamiliar bees, purple scabious and clover, the ground crunching with pinecones. We ate our Co-op picnic on a bench above a steeply sloping field at 1,695m at Egga, supplementing our plastic punnet of supermarket strawberries with handfuls of wild ones plucked beside the path: 'These taste much nicer — and they're free!' Heidi said. We were up in the high pastures now, steep grassy meadows full of grazing cows, peppered with small enclaves once dedicated to farming. In Sapün, a tiny, seemingly deserted hamlet of centuries-old chalets, like a living museum, I paused to photograph the sweet wooden schoolhouse, dating to 1849, and a vending machine selling fresh local cheese, then sneezed. 'Gesundheit!' someone called from inside one of the sunbaked buildings. Beyond a farm where the workers were hand-cutting grass for straw was Heimeli, a 300-year-old wooden chalet turned into one of the cutest guesthouses in the Alps and possibly the world — our enchanting base for the night. After the hours of hot, sweaty uphill, it was sweet relief to plonk ourselves at one of the terrace tables among potted edelweiss, order Heimeli's own craft beers and homemade soft drinks flavoured with mountain herbs and, like at every stop, get out the playing cards — the kids never tired of Shithead. A garden opposite provided more fun, with a hammock and swing, a slack line and an elf-sized chalet wendy house hung with felt toadstools and gonks. While the kids played there, we settled in to relax on the terrace, before the owner, Vita Gabriella, showed me inside. Heimeli itself was like a slightly larger wendy house, with low wooden ceilings, antiques, chairs with loveheart cutouts and ladders leading to compact spaces — a cellar with shelves of Crocs to borrow, a bar/museum in a phonebox-sized indoor pigsty, and ten guestrooms, including singles and our quad. She told me that they used to pack seven people into each room on the floor, but she had moved the place upmarket after taking it on with her husband in 2007. This had been a dream come true, thanks to a surprise payout from an investment her husband had made — somewhat reluctantly — in the company he worked for in order to help save it. 'We are both from poor backgrounds, but suddenly we had a million,' she said. 'We didn't know what to do with it. A friend said to me, 'You are a rich woman, what did you dream of doing with that kind of money?' I realised — 'Oh, I would love to buy Heimeli!' It had been for sale for three years then. We thought we'd run it for ten years, but here we still are.' The result could not have been more atmospheric, and dinner was a feast: rösti, macaroni prettied up with edible flowers, kid-pleasing burgers, homemade wild berry ice cream (mains from £21), so too breakfast, with homemade bircher and jams. I could've stayed for a week, if not for ever. A storm was forecast for lunchtime the next day, and we knew we needed an early start to get up over the exposed Strelapass before it hit. The path became greyer and more grinding as the clouds built, pouring over the sky like dry ice. The rain came down as we reached the the top at 2,352m, so we sheltered in the Strela Pass Restaurant (more Shithead) before hotfooting it down the other side towards Davos. A crack of lightning made us terrifyingly aware of being out on the exposed rocky tops, the kids went wild with storm fever/fear, screaming and laughing all the way down until a final hungry trudge through forest brought the spate of whingeing we'd long been waiting for. At least a cosy hotel, the simple Edelweiss, greeted us in Davos, a larger town, today devoid of world leaders and of quite so much character as the other stops. From here an exciting funicular, the Parsennbahn, took us up to the Weissfluhjoch at 2,686m and we came across patches of snow big enough to supply a family snowball flight that of course ended in tears. But the children seemed to be generally ecstatic to be exploring these landscapes, scrambling over them as if they were an adventure playground, jumping from rocks, dipping their hands in streams, running for no reason and pointing out the marmots we constantly heard whistling. Shockingly, they never even asked for sweets. • The best places to visit in Switzerland Swimming helped maintain the good vibes. The path back to Langwies through the rumpled folds of the Fondei Valley descended beside the charging Fondeier Bach river and we skinny-dipped in hectic pools, crossing narrow bridges beside waterfalls at the foot of the gorge that was, for now, more impressive than anything Minecraft could create.'Look around, this is amazing!' Heidi yelled — music to her parents' ears. And back in Arosa, after another night at the Faern, we spent the morning in the town swimming lake, Untersee — a natural municipal lido with diving boards, an inflatable platform with slide, play areas and 1930s wooden changing rooms, all for £4.50, or free with an Arosa Card that came with our hotel sort of facility is not uncommon in the Alps, convincing me that those who are born in the region have won the geographical lottery of life. One last gondola, Urdenfürggli, and a long sunny descent, and we were back at the start in Lenzerheide. What a sense of achievement! What a thrill to return to the same hotels, feeling changed by adventure, though it had only been a few days! What blisters! The children had had a look of joy on their faces almost the entire time. They had giggled madly together. We'd bonded. I had learnt much about Piglins. So how did they feel about walking holidays now? 'We hate them,' they said. But all the smiley photos, and their proud expressions when we totted up our stats — some 30 miles of walking — they told a different story… Gemma Bowes was a guest of Switzerland Tourism ( and the Lenzerhorn hotel, which has B&B doubles from £229 ( the Faern Arosa Altein, with B&B doubles from £177 ( Heimeli, with B&B doubles from £172 ( and Edelweiss, with B&B doubles from £122 ( Fly to Milan or Zurich