My parents went for "lovely country walks". Apparently we all loved them.
They were great I can tell you. In case you want a plan on how to do them for your family, let me give you some pointers:
A "short afternoon's walk" might be returning at 10pm (having left at 1pm) before we were home. That might be due to df thinking he knew a short cut. Finding a nice bog for dsis to get stuck in or simply that dp were enjoying it so much they decided to go further.
I well remember the "short walk, no more than an hour" when we asked after three hours how much further. "You see that hill in the distance," df said cheerfully. "We're aiming to climb the one just beyond it."
They might have bought a nice healthy packed lunch/dinner too. We'd eat it while they told us how lucky we were to have such a lovely healthy lunch in the wonderful muck spread smelling fresh air rather than thoughtless parents who might take their children to a café. I got very good of disposing of the entire pack lunch without anyone noticing. I still don't do squashed sandwiches, and fruitcake crumbs tainted by the smell of milton. So I was pretty hungry by the time I got back.
If you needed the loo then there were plenty of bushes. No thank you. So I didn't drink either. So I was thirsty too. One of the best ways to raise a migraine in me too.
There was also the dog issue. Df is brilliant with animals. Walk through a farmyard with a guard dog and he'll have the aggressive beast on the floor at his feet in seconds, begging for a tummy tickle. The rest of us had to leg it through hoping it didn't catch us. Sometimes it did.
Ditto cows. He'd stride through the field and the cows would end up all standing round the one style out of the field gazing lovingly at his retreating back. The rest of us had to walk through them. Cows are pretty big btw. I think they want to take over the world.
We would have the inevitable (in the middle of the marshes where it looks the same in each direction) of checking the map. Don't know how they did it, but whichever way they turned led into a pathway that was about 6" deep in mud. My dsis lost a boot once and had to walk back without it. You tell that was a highlight of the walk.
Then we had the birdwatching. Dp are keen amateur twitchers. This means that from "come on, keep up, or it's going to get dark", they suddenly spot the lesser spotted whatnot and stop. For half an hour. In November that's pretty cold. And also refer to the mud. Inevitably there would be nowhere to sit.
Then when that was over, and they'd realise the tweeting noise was actually coming from dm's rucksack straps and not an unusual bird, they'd realise that it was now coming on dark, they didn't have a clue where we were and were going to be returning like an army route march, or a jog. Or both.
Then walking in the dark one of the parents would inevitably remember that the area had a warning for potholes/mineshafts/something else you really don't want to meet. They'd remind each other to bring a torch next time.
Arriving back at the car, we'd sigh a sigh of relief. Dp liked to park it by a streetlight which would enable dm to call out "watch out for the dog poo here."
Dsis would then tread in it. So then we'd all be sitting, cold, hungry and tired in the car while she stood on one leg and dm tried to clean it up.
Halfway home the parents would discuss who had/hadn't bought any milk that morning. They would come to the conclusion neither of them had, and we were all but out of it. So df would put the car into race home advanced driver mode in the hope to get back before the Spar "8 'till late" shut. We'd arrive there about 5 minutes after it closed. At least it livened up the last stretch home while they debated whose fault it was.
I'll stick at home with a nice book and some sewing thanks.