Kimmeridge

'My family have visited Kimmeridge for decades, sitting on the clifftop watching the waves. I remember walking along the ledges with my dad, looking into rockpools and searching for fossils. It's one of the last places we visited together before he died - he sat in a chair on the cliff overlooking the water, while we walked on the beach below.'

Corfe Castle

'We called this the 'Broken Castle' when we were kids, spending hours here climbing on the walls, hiding behind turrets, and rolling down the hill. We visited the castle on one very cold and rainy New Years Day, but it was fun because we were together. I've been back here since but it feels so quiet without dad.'

Near Durlston

'This was one of my dad's favourite walks, up through the town and over the hills to Durlston Country Park. We often stopped near these houses to say hello to a couple of donkeys. We'd chat all the way to a viewpoint where we stopped for coffee. It's still a favourite walk of ours.'

Across the Thames

'This is the view from the balcony of the Tate Modern on the River Thames, looking out over the river towards St. Paul’s Cathedral. Me and my dad used to visit at least once a month - for my birthday every year he’d give me membership to the gallery. We would walk along the river chatting, go round one or two of the exhibitions, get a coffee after looking in the bookshop, and often walk over the river to the cathedral. St Paul’s was one of dad’s favourite landmarks in London - he loved it. I’m sure it was helped by the fact that for their 30th anniversary my parents renewed their wedding vows in the chapel there.'

Overlooking Brownsea Island

'We’d always stop at the viewpoint overlooking Brownsea Island and Poole Harbour whenever we passed it. The view seems endless from up there, with a panoramic view of heathland with the sea in the distance. Often in the summer dad would buy us ice-cream from the old fashioned truck parked there. Even in the winter dad would refuse to sit in the car. We’d stand looking out at the view, often in the rain, looking for landmarks we recognised.'