If you had to choose just one coastal walk that boasted truly stunning views, then the lofty lope around altitudinous Countisbury would be up there at the top of the list. High above Lynmouth Bay there’s not much save for an excellent road-side pub and a tiny church that sits snug on Countisbury's shelf in the hills, but there are fabulous views. Our hike takes from Lynmouth up to Countisbury by inland paths - you can then go out to the Foreland Lighthouse by whichever route you dare, and back up the paved road to Barna Barrow before returning via the Blue Ball Inn. The first section takes you up the northern banks of the East Lyn River. As the stream curves around Wester Wood various paths strike upwards through the trees - any of these will take you to the top of Wind Hill. At the summit there’s a hill-fort which plays host to a remarkable legend concerning some locals who were chased up here by Hubba, the marauding brother of Viking chief, Ivan-the-Boneless. The great Dane was killed and his much-feared Black Raven banner was seized by the fleeing men who felt they had nothing to lose by picking a suicidal fight. Walking down the walled track from the fort we cross the main road to join the coast path where you are treated to magnificent vistas of Lynmouth Bay and beyond. Now you have a choice. You can either make this a quick hike and call in at the Blue Ball Inn for lunch before walking down the coast path back to Lynmouth, or you can proceed east around Butter Hill before descending down to the Foreland Lighthouse. Be warned: the tiny coast path around the hill is a route for non-vertigo sufferers only. To read about our Exmoor walks click here Frequently Asked Questions Where is Countisbury located on Exmoor? Countisbury is a small, elevated coastal hamlet situated on the North Devon edge of Exmoor National Park. Perched high on a hill crest just east of Lynton and Lynmouth, it sits right along the scenic route of the A39. How long is the walk out to Foreland Point from Countisbury? The circular hike from Countisbury out to the prominent headland of Foreland Point and back along the coastal slopes is approximately 3 to 4 miles. Due to steep gradient changes along the cliff paths, allow 2 to 2.5 hours to complete the loop safely. Is Countisbury good for pub walks on Exmoor? Yes. Countisbury is home to the historic 17th-century Blue Ball Inn, a traditional coaching inn located right on the South West Coast Path. It is a popular starting and finishing point for walks across Butter Hill and down into Lynmouth. What historical events took place around Countisbury? Countisbury Hill was the site of the ancient battle of Cynwit (878 AD), where Saxon forces defeated a Viking raiding party led by Ubba. The surrounding high ground features ancient earthworks and fort sites overlooking Lynmouth Bay.

The majority of tourists heading west in pursuit of seaside adventures tend to aim for Devon, Cornwall or Dorset. Somerset’s Bristol Channel coast often gets overlooked. However, there is a corner of the county’s littoral which, in terms of scenic beauty alone, could compete with any shoreline in the world. The wild and untamed sweep of Porlock Bay, punctuated only by the tiny picturesque harbour at Porlock Weir, is surely one of the most exquisite jewels in all of England’s seaside crown. To read about our Exmoor walks click here Golden sands may not be much evidence, but this maritime cauldron of excellence has just about everything else. The grand, vertiginous, coast of Exmoor begins its march west right here, so the place has a truly magnificent backdrop. Indeed, Exmoor’s 1000 foot hills surround both the bay and also the comely swathe of Porlock Vale, making the entire shooting match one of the most extraordinary coastal settings to be found anywhere. Down at the Weir, there’s a picture-perfect harbour protected from the sea by a spit of land known as Turkey Island, which is crowned by a line of thatched cottages that overlook one of the country’s only sea-bound oyster farms. On the inland side of the harbour looms a lovely old hotel - one which serves some of the best food in the West Somerset and Exmoor area. Miguel and Michell Tenriero took over the lease of the Porlock Weir Hotel (https://www.porlockweirhotel.co.uk/) five years ago and have been getting the place just how they want it ever since. There was a lot to be done and the couple had to endure the Covid lockdowns shortly after they moved in. So, nice people running an excellent establishment, serving top quality food in a truly idyllic location… It’s an equation this series loves to celebrate. You’ll often find one or two of those ingredients in a single place but, when all the elements come together, it is definitely worth writing about. The couple moved from South Africa 17 years ago and have been working in hospitality ever since, firstly at the Royal Castle Hotel in Dartmouth and more latterly at the Luttrell Arms, Dunster (owned by the same well-known West Country-based hotel family). You can see why Miguel and Michelle make a dream-team in the hospitality industry - she runs the front-of-house operations with great efficiency, while Miguel does what he loves best and that is producing wondrous food in the kitchen. And at the Porlock Weir Hotel, it is pretty wondrous. We were served a collection of tasting plates which include a pork belly dressed in a Miguel’s own signature piri-piri sauce; Portuguese prawn rissoles with dill remoulade and cucumber ribbons; pan-roasted monkfish with courgette spaghetti, local asparagus and red pepper sauce; and crispy beef sirloin, rice noodles, homemade kimchi, pak choy, sesame and soy dressing. As you’ll see in our photographs, these were truly lovely plates of food. Indeed, I mentioned to Miguel that I thought the prawn rissoles were among the best things I’d tasted so far this year, and he kindly gave me the recipe (see our panel). “The general theme is based on a European-Mediterranean style, but I come from a Portuguese family so there’s a lot of Portuguese influence,” explained Miguel, adding that his experience working in some of the top kitchens in South Africa has also influenced his cooking. “For example, something I haven't taken off the menu here since our first day is my grandmother's recipe for piri-piri sauce, which I serve with everything from poultry to fish. We make 20 litres at a time - it’s something and I’m looking to bottle commercially in the future.” Miguel has a passion for the kind of nose-to-tail cooking that cuts out any waste, and he also insists on using seasonal ingredients that are as local as possible. “I really do take great care to understand where the ingredients have been produced so that we can support local farmers and suppliers and reduce food miles,” he told me. The 17-bedroom hotel has a formal dining room overlooking the harbour and there’s also a harbour-side terrace and a cosy outdoor eating and drinking area (with a bar, barbecue and wood fired pizza oven) which boasts fine views of the bay. If I had to devise a hit-parade of the top ten places UK in which to both stay and dine, the Porlock Weir Hotel would definitely be high on the list - not only for the exquisite food and sumptuous comfort of the place, but also because of its truly magnificent natural surroundings. Porlock Weir to Culbone Walk One of the very best hikes in all the Westcountry begins and ends at the tiny harbour of Porlock Weir. The seven-mile circular hike follows the South West Coast Path out of the Weir, so that you climb to Culbone - one of the most isolated hamlets in the region - before returning over the top of the hill. We turn west behind the harbour and follow the footpath that runs up across the fields to the hamlet of Worthy. It’s in the woods above this place that a fabulous fantasy-style mansion once stood with minarets and cloisters and a clutter of other architectural features which made it the most alluring of places even in the days when it lay in forlorn ruins. The old place was demolished years ago and, sadly, they’ve even blocked up the little follies and tunnels situated here and there in the steep woods. You’ll see one on the main path to Culbone, looking like a miniature castle bridging the almost subterranean route. It was a Lady Lovelace who had this dreamland built and she even imported a team of Swiss mountaineers to lay a network of carriageways throughout her vertical demesne. It was all kept very private and the tunnels were part of the design which allowed her to enjoy the ornate gardens and landscapes without the exasperating notion of being viewed by anyone else. Lady Lovelace eventually despaired of the place being back-sunned and departed for the sunny side of the hill, but you can still see plenty of vestiges of her dreamscape with place-names like Apple Dumpling Point and Cherry Tree Steep. The path used to be a long but gradual climb from here to Culbone, but in recent years, massive landslides have dissected the hill so that now there's a bit of zigging-and-zagging to be done along the way. Eventually, the track turns away from the coast into Culbone’s deep coombe, hanging high above the grey rocks and grey sea in its enchanting glen. A visit to the tiny church is compulsory – though it takes you a couple of hundred metres out of the way. The smallest complete church in England has a nave that is 21 feet by 12 feet, and a chancel that measures 13 feet by 10 – making a total length of 35 feet. Regular services are still held - many of the congregation arrive by four-wheel drive down the steep track, which we must now climb. It’s a long steep haul that takes us up to the small lane that terminates at Silcombe Farm. You’ll see the farmstead on your right, but we turn left a few metres until we see a track ascending the hill on our right. This takes us up over Culbone Hill to the very top of the Worth Toll Road. From there we descend through Worthy Coombe to where the footpath reaches the back-end of Porlock Weir. Miguel’s Portuguese Prawn Rissoles For the Dough: 2 cups all-purpose flour – 240g approx. 1 cup stock (prawn, chicken, or vegetable) 250ml approx. 1 cup full fat milk 250ml approx. 2tbsp butter – 30g Salt & Pepper For the Prawn Filling: 400g shrimp – cleaned, peeled, and cut into smaller pieces 2tbsp olive oil – 30ml 1 medium onion diced – 150g approx. 2 garlic cloves – minced 125ml shrimp stock 80ml milk 1tsp smoked paprika ¼ tsp chilli powder 2tbsp flour Salt, pepper Fresh coriander For Breading and Frying: 100g breadcrumbs 100ml milk 1 egg yolk Salt & black pepper Vegetable oil For the dough - place a pan over medium to high heat, add the milk, stock, and butter. Season with salt and pepper. Once the mixture starts to simmer, add the 2 cups of flour and stir vigorously. The mixture will look lumpy and as you continue to stir it will clump into a ball. Continue to mix without removing from the heat, until the dough is smooth and has gained colour. Remove from the heat, transfer to a clean surface, and start working the dough immediately. At this point the dough will be a bit too hot to handle, you can use a rolling pin to knead it. Once it cools, use your hands to knead it for a couple of minutes The Filling: Place a large frying pan over medium heat. Add the olive oil, onion, and garlic, frying it for a couple of minutes. Add the prawns, cook for another 3 minutes. Season with salt, pepper, paprika, and chilli powder before adding the prawn stock and milk. Once it starts to simmer, add the flour, stir well. Continue to cook everything until it reduces, and you are left with a thick creamy mixture. Season with freshly chopped parsley and more salt and pepper if needed. Allow to cool completely before storing in the fridge. Shaping the Rissoles Divide the dough in two equal pieces. Using a rolling pin, roll out one of the pieces until it’s about 2mm thin. Use a 10cm biscuit cutter (use the shavings to cut more circles). Repeat the process with the other piece of dough. Place a small portion of your prawn filling in the centre of each one of the circles. Use a damp brush to lightly brush the edges of your circles, then fold the circle, gently applying pressure to glue the sides. Repeat the process Place a small pan over low heat, add enough vegetable oil to deep fry your pastries. Meanwhile, add the breadcrumbs to a bowl. In a separate bowl, combine the milk, egg yolk, season it with salt and pepper. Dip the pastry into the milk mixture, then coat with breadcrumbs. Use a kitchen thermometer to check the oil temperature (should be ready at 180 °C). Don’t fry too many pastries at the same time - crowding the pain can change the oil temperature. Once the pastries are golden brown, remove them from the oil. Place on top of kitchen paper to remove excessive oil and serve. Frequently Asked Questions Where is Porlock Weir located? Porlock Weir is a tiny, historic harbour hamlet situated on the West Somerset coast inside Exmoor National Park, at the western edge of Porlock Bay. It lies at the foot of Exmoor’s steep, 1,000-foot wooded coastal hills. How long is the Porlock Weir to Culbone circular walk? The circular hike from Porlock Weir to Culbone is approximately 7 miles long. Following a section of the South West Coast Path, it climbs through the woods above Worthy, passes the ancient hamlet of Culbone, and returns over Culbone Hill via Worthy Coombe. What is unique about Culbone Church? Culbone Church (St. Beuno’s) is widely recognised as the smallest complete parish church in England. Its nave measures just 21 feet by 12 feet, and the chancel measures 13 feet by 10 feet, giving it a total length of only 35 feet. Who runs the Porlock Weir Hotel? The Porlock Weir Hotel is leased and run by hospitality duo Miguel and Michelle Tenreiro. Chef Miguel brings a blend of European, Mediterranean, and traditional Portuguese influences to the kitchen—including his grandmother's signature piri-piri sauce and homemade prawn rissoles.

Dulverton "Hunting, hunting, hunting," said a local councillor once when I asked him what I could write about Dulverton. Back in Lordy Holcombe's day the answer could have been: "Poaching, poaching, poaching." But you get the underlying message - Dulverton is surrounded by deer, deer, deer. Exmoor is home to England's last large herd of wild red deer and Dulverton is capital of the hills. As such, deer - and the killing of deer, legal or otherwise - has been the town's central theme for centuries. It still is, despite the so-called hunting ban. No town in Europe is so bound up with venery. You get some clue of this when you visit - half the vehicles parked are four-wheel drives and three-quarters of all the other cars are splattered in red Exmoor mud. Dulverton is the sort of place where folk come in from the hills. A town of wellington boots and fresh air. The image of the stag and its antlers seems to be stamped everywhere. It is even the logo of the Exmoor National Park Authority, which has its headquarters in town. Lordy Holcombe, by the way, was the man who put deer poaching on the map. Lordy lived in Dulverton during the reign of Queen Victoria and was a character - as anyone who has read his book, The Autobiography of an Exmoor Poacher (reprinted by Halsgrove - on sale at £14.95) – will know. Lordy was candid about his calling: "I did not take to poaching as a means of livelihood, or, at least, as a means of livelihood solely. I liked poaching; I loved poaching; I was never so happy as when I was poaching. You see, it was in my blood. I was a born poacher and a born rogue." For anyone who doesn't know Dulverton, you must imagine a small town situated on the banks of a fast-flowing river. All around to the south, west and north are steep woods and hills. Only to the south-east do the inclines subside into the contours of a softer, more rolling nature. In that direction lies Pixton Park, one of the great demesnes to rule the roost in this Somerset-Devon border region. The town's main-street begins where a multi-arched bridge crosses the Barle. To the left as you cross you will see Exmoor House - now home to the Exmoor National Park Authority but was once a grim workhouse where the poor of the hills ended their miserable days. Ahead, the main-street climbs away from the river, introducing you to an array of interesting shops. A few yards up the road splits in two - fork-left and you will see the famous steps of the Town Hall and, at the far end on the hillside, there'll be splendid All Saints Church. Not quite so splendid as it was, alas. It was somewhat drastically restored in 1855 when it lost its gallery, box pews, and 15th century rood screen. Dulverton is surrounded by pleasant walks - just as it is surrounded by history. Iron age forts seem to be in abundance with Oldberry Castle, Mounsey Castle and Brewer's Castle all relatively close by. Then there's what's left of Norman Bury Castle not far to the east and the remains of Barlynch Priory a mile or so up the Exe Valley. Dunster Dunster is, arguably, doyen of the Westcountry’s tourism honey-pots. Point your camera anywhere in the picturesque village, and you'll capture a classic shot. The famous Yarn Market, which dominates the main street, must be one of the most photographed structures in the region. People have been admiring Dunster for a long time. In 1823 William Hazlitt recalled: "Eyeing it wistfully as it lay below us, contrasted with the woody scene around, it looked as clear, as pure, as embrowned and ideal as any landscape I have seen since..." Just over a century ago Mrs Cecil Frances Alexander was so impressed that she sat down on Grabbist, the steep shoulder of hill that is the backdrop of the village, and wrote the famous hymn 'All Things Bright and Beautiful'. Dunster is as historic as it is pretty. It is, of course, dominated by its castle. Everywhere you go - there it is, perched upon its knoll. There's been some sort of fort on the Tor since 1067 - and the people up there have held sway for the best part of a thousand years. The Luttrell family gave the castle to the National Trust in 1976 after owning it for many centuries. The Luttrells had a good name as far as overlords go, but naturally they had the odd run-in with the villagers. All sorts of stories exist, but my favourite is the one about Dunster's own version of 'Lady Godiva'. Lady Elizabeth de Mohun, a member of the family that built the original castle, decided the family should show a little more largesse and begged her husband to give some land to the commoners. He told her that he'd give them whatever land she could ride around at dawn. There was only one catch: she had to go naked. She did just that, but the village-folk are said to have been so grateful, they averted their eyes. It's just one yarn in a history rich in legend and anecdote. A veritable pageant of the past has rolled along under the castle walls. Soldiers from Agincourt have been called to serve the Mohuns; mediaeval masons have hammered at the soft sandstone to build the huge church and priory; Benedictine monks have filed silently past the old Nunnery; mariners who used the vanished port called Dunster Haven, have carved their footprints in the church's lead roof; Royalist and Parliamentarian soldiers have besieged and been besieged; even Charles II took refuge here as a young prince... So picturesque and historic Dunster has become a honey-pot for tourists. But the wonderful thing about the place is that the hordes of visitors have not ruined it - you can still enjoy the scenery and architecture and soak up its wonderful atmosphere of antiquity. Lynton and Lynmouth There's no other coastline like it. From Porlock to Combe Martin, Exmoor shoulders her great flanks to the sea. The tallest sea cliffs in England, rising almost 1,000 feet, make it one of the most inhospitable littorals in the land - and yet, in the middle of all this, there is a harbour. A tiny, brave little haven that has witnessed both life-crushing disaster and life-saving courage and fortitude. A port so picturesque that it inspired sweet words to pour forth from the pens of poets like Wordsworth, Coleridge, Southey and Shelley. Lynmouth - the place where Exmoor drops her guard. The boulder-strewn haven where the great hills yield to the sea so that they can rid themselves of water - the life-blood that has tumbled and torn its way down a hundred rivulets and ravines. Even its name gives us a clue to the fate of the place. Llynna comes from the Anglo-Saxon and means torrent - so that Lynmouth is the 'town on the torrent'. In Lynmouth's case the day of reckoning came on August 15th 1952, when more than 90 million tons of water cascaded down the steep narrow valleys towards the small harbour village causing death and devastation as it went. In all, 34 people lost their lives that black night. Today, most people's initial view of Lynmouth is from high above the North Devon Foreland near the hamlet of Countisbury. The full vista of Lynmouth Bay suddenly opens up and the motorist is greeted by one of the most breathtaking surprises to be experienced anywhere on English roads. No wonder the Victorians called this "Little Switzerland". The only flat thing here is the sea. All other elements within the panorama are on the perpendicular. It is a place of great romance – you only have to talk to one of the local boatmen to know it. Matthew Oxenham once told me this about his family’s salty history: "We've always been linked with the sea in some way. 600 years ago my ancestor John Oxenham was hung by the Spanish for being a privateer. Privateer mind, not pirate. He had a license. "My grandfather had the Lily which was the last boat to trade out of here. She was a wonderful old ketch that traded in coal and pit-props. And then my father operated packet-boats which were so important to the village when a lot of steamers used to come to Lynmouth. There was a time when that was the main way of getting here, but I still use the packets to collect passengers off the Balmoral when she comes." Matthew went on to tell me all sorts of fascinating titbits - such as the fact that local men would to play cricket out at sea on an extensive sandbar that used to dry out at low tides but which has now been committed to the deep thanks to commercial extraction. However, all these salty tales pale into insignificance compared to the "Overland Launch" when coxswain Jack Crocombe with his crew and many helpers dragged their lifeboat Louisa across the moors to Porlock to rescue the stricken Forrest Hall in January 1899. The famous deed has been described as: "Exmoor's contribution to a national roll of notable deeds..." You can wave goodbye to the boats at Lynmouth by travelling vertically upwards. The funicular cliff railway provides visitors with one of the best rides to be found anywhere in the West Country – and at the top you will find yourself in the pleasant little town of Lynton, which is a terrific starting point for countless wonderful walks. To read about our Exmoor walks click here Frequently Asked Questions Which town is known as the capital of Exmoor? Dulverton is widely regarded as the capital of Exmoor. Situated on the River Barle, it serves as the administrative home of the Exmoor National Park Authority and is famous for its close ties to the region’s wild red deer herds. Why are Lynton and Lynmouth called "Little Switzerland"? The Victorians dubbed Lynton and Lynmouth "Little Switzerland" due to the dramatic, near-vertical sea cliffs, wooded ravines, and steep alpine-like landscapes where the high moors drop abruptly into Lynmouth Bay. What is the famous story behind the Dunster "Lady Godiva"? Legend has it that Lady Elizabeth de Mohun begged her husband to grant land to the commoners of Dunster. He agreed on the condition that she ride naked around the parcel of land at dawn. Grateful villagers are said to have averted their eyes in respect as she completed the ride. How do you travel between Lynton and Lynmouth? Visitors can travel between upper Lynton and coastal Lynmouth via the historic Lynton and Lynmouth Cliff Railway. Opened in 1890, it is the highest and steepest fully water-powered funicular railway in the world.

One catchphrase for the modern world we live in could be: everything everywhere. Armed with our smartphones we can look up and learn about almost anything, no matter where we happen to be. We can see pictures or videos of the most obscure places and entities, regardless of how distant they are. Which, for the romantics among us, means there’s a lot less magic and mystery waiting to be discovered by real, non-automated, non-internet-linked humans who like exploring the world for themselves. To read about our Exmoor walks click here For centuries, all we had were paper maps (with varying degrees of accuracy) to tell us where we were in the world and show us what might lie around the corner. Before maps were invented, every journey away from a person’s home-patch would have been an adventure into the unknown. Now, thanks to Google Maps and the like, the concept of that “adventure into the unknown” is just about impossible. Which, of course, can be a very good and useful thing indeed, but it doesn’t exactly add to the mystical allure of distant horizons or that wonderful sense of discovery you get by seeking to find what’s just around the next corner. People like me have been partly to blame. For nearly 25 years I have been writing walks articles which explain exactly how to find a place and which route to follow. Indeed, I have done it to the extent where some people have complained that I’ve been giving away wonderful secrets - exposing fabulous places to a wider public which hitherto have only been known by a few. My response has always been: don’t be selfish! Why shouldn’t we share a bit of countryside joy in this increasingly urbanised world? The more people get out into nature and enjoy it, the more they’ll care for it. For the entire latter half of the last century my journalist father, Peter Hesp, was having the same kind of argument. He loved unearthing and writing about strange and out-of-the-way places - and he was so good at it, eventually the local National Park Authority put together a book of his articles, called Secret Exmoor, which today has become a collector’s piece. As a boy, I would regularly join Dad as he explored some of the locations mentioned in the book - and over the recent Christmas lull I enjoyed re-reading the various articles which were collected in Secret Exmoor. It was only when I put the book down that I began to recall some of the adventures which didn’t make it into the book, or into any article he wrote. Why didn’t they make it into print? The answer can be found in the very first article in Secret Exmoor. It focusses on the long lost village of Clicket, which my father discovered and wrote about having met a very old man who actually used to live in what had been the West Country’s answer to a ghost-town. This is what my Dad wrote about this particular journey of discovery: “In places the path petered out altogether and there was nothing for it but to follow the stream as best one could through marshy meadows or moss-grown woods. It was difficult to believe that this must once have been a well-trodden way - a score or more children travelled it to school each day towards of the last century…” And so he went on, describing his adventure in an article which originally appeared in the newspaper he worked for, the Somerset County Gazette, just a week after he’d visited the out-of-the-way valley high in the Brendon Hills. Of course, he told his young sons all about the place and I can still remember the wonder in his eyes. He had, after all, discovered an entire overgrown, forgotten, village in which no one but ghosts had lived for donkey’s years. In his lengthy article, originally written in 1965, he eventually describes the last residents of Clicket… “One can still find the foundations of a little cottage where lived the miller and his family. In the first half of this century, when the village had become forsaken, an old homeless couple found their way here and set up house in the ruined mill rather than allow themselves to be taken to the workhouse and be separated. “There they stayed together, finding what poor comfort they could, without doors or windows, and with the roof leaky and ready to collapse. Their suffering - and their fellowship - lasted one year, perhaps two, and then the old man died. His wife was taken away, presumably to that dreaded refuge for the destitute, the parish workhouse. “Some say the little village community vanished away because of plague or pestilence,” Peter concluded. “But the evidence seems to show that it survived quite happily from before the 16th century almost through to modern times. Then, when there was more freedom of movement and youngsters grew up hearing of a wider world, people just drifted away and never went back.” Of course, we boys were desperately keen to see this ghost village for ourselves and we pestered Dad to take us there the very next weekend, which he did. I can still see the look of bewilderment and sadness on his face when we discovered that more than 100 other people had been inspired to make the same difficult journey having read his article which had been published on the Friday. Peter Hesp was very careful when writing about his Secret Exmoor from that moment on. Which is why there were adventures of discovery out in the moors which never made it onto any page. And recently, leafing through the book, one of them came back to me… A long boggy walk to a very, very, lonely place indeed - a place which we boys absolutely adored and found so magical that we returned several times to have picnics there over the years. A smallish handful of Exmoor-lovers will know it well - a great many will not - but this time I’m keeping schtum about the geography of the location (pictured in the photographs). The little circle of trees in the moors deserves to be visited, but not shouted about. Perhaps it’s the fact that the trees appear to have sunk down into the moorlands which helps to promote this air of hiddenness. It’s as if the place doesn’t want to be known to the world - as though it is in hiding, more than happy to be far from the eyes of humankind. To catch a glimpse of this junction of moorland streams from afar, you would need to be in some kind of aircraft. And who can blame this clandestine corner for wishing to retain its privacy in this day and age when we’ve done so much to wreck the planet that we now call this era the Anthropocene? To some slight degree, I felt like an interloper when I walked there a week ago in bright winter sunlight. Certainly we did not tarry for long. The January sun was sinking fast - and this is no place to be caught out in the dark. However, I do intend returning every now and again - and to carry on doing so for as long as my limbs will take me across those sodden moors. Next time, I’ll go earlier and maybe take a flask of soup - or maybe we’ll have a summer’s picnic there later in the year. But we will always, always, ensure that we leave nothing save for the odd boot-mark here or there. This place, above all others I know here in crowded Southern England, deserves its sanctity and its unbelievably refreshing sense of peace and quietude. And now, having visited the ring of trees in the middle of Exmoor’s great nowhere-in-particular-zone, and having written this little piece, I plan to create a short series of articles with illustrations focussing on a few of the West Country’s hidden places. All of them will be accessible to the public - each can be visited if you’re willing to put in a good walk - but I will not be naming any of them or giving their exact locations. Regard it as one man’s bid to add a little magic and mystery back into the landscape. Frequently Asked Questions What was the lost village of Clicket on Exmoor? Clicket was an isolated village tucked into a steep valley high in the Brendon Hills. Dating back before the 16th century, its population gradually drifted away in the early 1900s, leaving behind stone cottage foundations, an old ruined mill, and overgrown mossy paths. Who wrote the original *Secret Exmoor* book? *Secret Exmoor* was written by journalist Peter Hesp (father of Martin Hesp). Originally published as popular weekly newspaper features in the *Somerset County Gazette*, the columns were later collected into a book by the Exmoor National Park Authority. Why are specific locations kept unnamed in the "Secret Places" series? To protect fragile landscapes from overcrowding and preserve the genuine thrill of discovery. Leaving exact coordinates off the map allows wild, quiet spaces to retain their peace and sanctity. What should I keep in mind when walking in Central Exmoor? Central Exmoor features remote, boggy terrain where conditions can shift rapidly. Always carry an Ordnance Survey map, a compass, and sturdy waterproof boots, and plan your journey so you are off the high moors well before dusk.

Sri Lanka: Pearl of the Indian Ocean or the Tear Drop of India. They’re both marvellous names and in many ways well deserved. I have just returned from a trip to the island with the specialist tour company Hayes & Jarvis, as a member of the British Guild of Travel Writers. Hayes & Jarvis create tailor-made, bespoke or customised holidays to suit its customers and their needs. Their skilled and knowledgeable Destination Specialists will personalise every aspect of a traveller’s itinerary to their specific preferences. When you choose a tailor-made holiday, accommodations are hand-picked, and experiences are carefully selected based on what you want on the dates convenient to you. We enjoyed a compact but highly enjoyable and fascinating version of a typical Hayes & Jarvis trip to Sri Lanka Before I go any further in arranging my notes and thoughts, here’s a very basic overview when it comes to the idea of travelling to this remarkable isle. I’ll be adding further more specific articles to this website based on experiences from the trip… 1. Location: Situated in the Indian Ocean, Sri Lanka is a dynamic island south of India with a unique mix of cultures, landscapes, and experiences. 2. Capital: Colombo, a coastal city, is the commercial hub. For administrative purposes, Sri Jayawardenepura Kotte is the legislative capital. 3. Language: The dominant languages are Sinhalese and Tamil. English is also widely spoken, especially in urban areas and by service providers. 4. Currency: Sri Lankan Rupee (LKR). Credit cards are accepted in most places, but it's wise to carry some cash, especially when venturing into smaller towns or purchasing from local markets. 5. Climate: Tropical monsoon. The country can be split into two climate zones: wet and dry. It's always a good idea to check the weather forecast depending on which part of the island you're planning to visit. 6. Popular Attractions: Sigiriya: An ancient rock fortress and palace ruin. Yala National Park: A haven for wildlife enthusiasts, home to a variety of animals including leopards. Cuisine: A flavourful blend of local spices and ingredients. Some must-tries include rice and curry, hoppers (appa), and coconut sambal. 8. Local Transportation: Trains and buses are the primary modes of transportation for longer distances. For city travel, tuk-tuks and cabs are common. 9. Visa: Most travellers need a visa to enter. Electronic Travel Authorisation (ETA) can be easily obtained online before arrival. 10. Connectivity: Wi-Fi is readily available in hotels, restaurants, and other public places. Buying a local SIM card for mobile data is recommended. 11. Health and Safety: It's advisable to drink bottled water. Vaccinations like typhoid, hepatitis A, and tetanus are recommended for most travellers. 12. Sustainable Travel Tips: Respect the local culture and environment. Avoid single-use plastics, and consider staying in eco-friendly accommodations. 13. Shopping: Local crafts, Batik prints, tea, and gemstones are among the popular buys. Optimising your Sri Lanka visit entails diving deep into the country's rich tapestry without leaning on cliché experiences. This fact file is your primer to kickstart that authentic adventure. Remember to update yourself with the latest local guidelines and recommendations for a smooth trip. Safe travels!

A very, very early start while on my tour of Sri Lanka with Hayes & Jarvis - but a wake-up call that was eminently worthwhile - especially for any foodie who is keen on seafood. While we were staying at the amazing Cinnamon Bentota Beach Hotel at Bentota, we set off for the two mile journey to the Beruwala Fishery Harbour, situated in the Kalutara District, bordering to the Southern end of Western Province of Sri Lanka. It is one of the main fishery harbours on the western coast, about 40 miles south of Colombo. A very early morning walk around the port in the early morning is a truly fascinating and colourful experience. You are completely free to wonder around - trying not to get in the way of the ever-busy porters who rush around trying to get the fish sold and on its way before the hot tropical sun rises. The boats range from large ocean going trawlers which have been away for weeks or even months to brightly coloured outrigger canoes. It is a scene of apparent mayhem, but there is a great deal of rapid logic being applied to the buying and selling. Just watch out - it is all too easy to get sprayed with blood and fish guts as filleters and fish butchers work in an extremely rapid and frenzied manner to get their wares sorted and sold. We saw all manner of fish - a lot of small and some medium sized tuna, as well as a great many tropical species I have no idea about. The harbour at Beruwala is a naturally protected area and has been used by merchant vessels and local fishing boats for centuries. It was an important trading port during the British rule in Sri Lanka. The harbour was destroyed during the 2004 Asian Tsunami and reconstructed by CFHC Awakening of Fishery Harbour project. Ceylon Fisheries Corporation who was responsible for providing infrastructure facilities for fisherman initially constructed the fishery harbour at Beruwala in 1965. Since 1972 responsibility of maintaining and operating the harbour was entrusted to the Ceylon Fishery Harbours Corporation. This Harbour is being developed as a model harbour with European Union (E.U.) standard facilities.

I asked the AI robots to write a short synopsis of this double page spread travel piece which appeared in West Country Life Magazine inside the Western Morning News and Western Daily Press this weekend… Discover the enchanting island of Sri Lanka through the expertly crafted, tailor-made vacations offered by Hayes & Jarvis, a company renowned for creating unique travel experiences. This article delves into the transformative journey that awaits travelers seeking more than just a holiday, but a profound immersion into the heart of Sri Lanka's vibrant culture and breathtaking landscapes. For over 40 years, the author, a seasoned travel writer, has explored numerous destinations, but it's the Hayes & Jarvis trip to Sri Lanka that stands out as a quintessential holiday experience. This adventure combines the thrill of scaling the 1000-foot Lion Rock, a pilgrimage site and jewel of the island, with the relaxation of sunbathing by the pool of a luxurious five-star seaside hotel. What sets this trip apart is the deep, pleasurable immersion into the foreign and fascinating aspects of Sri Lanka. It's likened to a genteel, legal hallucinogenic experience for someone from the Northern Atlantic, offering a dazzling and mind-bending journey. The trip is designed to be safe and attainable, suitable even for adventurous seniors. The journey includes a visit to the heart of the island, taking in the famous Lion Rock near Sigiriya, the old cultural capital of Kandy, and a remarkable train journey to the high tea plantations. The experience is enriched by a guide who introduces travellers to the complex realities of Sri Lanka, taking them to places beyond the typical tourist path. In Kandy, the group visited the Temple of the Tooth, housing a sacred relic of Lord Buddha, and explored "Hela Bojun," a social welfare project for economically challenged women. The Hayes & Jarvis programme ensures a comprehensive experience with a dedicated Sri Lankan guide and a personal mini-bus driver, starting from the bustling markets of Colombo to the luxurious Aliya Resort & Spa. The trip also includes a safari in Minneriya National Park, a stay at the Kandy House, and a journey through the tea-growing regions aboard a train from Kandy to Nuwara Eliya. The journey concludes with a visit to the coastal town of Bentota, a testament to the resilience of the island post-tsunami, and a mesmerizing early morning visit to the Beruwala Fishery Harbour. This Hayes & Jarvis adventure is not just a holiday; it's a magical mystery tour into the heart of Sri Lanka, offering an unforgettable experience that goes beyond conventional tourism. For more information on these bespoke tours starting from around £1,999 per person for eight nights (excluding international flights), visit Hayes & Jarvis' website or contact their team of travel experts. Explore with Sri Lankan Airline

Rediscovering Batik in Sri Lanka Sri Lanka's embrace of batik, a craft with a rich and colourful history, is undergoing something of a reawakening. From the coastal towns to the island's verdant interior, the sight of wax and dye, once a fading echo, is now to be seen just here and there. Having recently witnessed this resurgence firsthand during a British Guild of Travel Writers tour, an extensive and interesting journey into the heart of Sri Lankan creativity, the depth of this revival became clear, in one location at least. Inland at Matara we had lunch at the lovely Malabar Hills hotel, which is very much an experiential kind of place, offering activities like bird watching and nature trekking (besides serving some of the best food in Sri Lanka). The hotel is involved with projects designed to employ and better the lives of local people - a wonderful thing in a country like Sri Lanka where money is short and wages are low. One of the projects is a batik “factory” where local women produce beautiful designs to supply to the nation’s burgeoning fashion industry. And, of course, being a hotel led project we, as guests, were invited to have a lesson - which I thought would be a little boring and unnecessary in the heat but which turned out to be great fun. I am proud of my little square of batik which now sits on my desk. A Firsthand Experience With the Ancient Craft Looking at my photos I can recall the canting tool and molten medium. The air at the open-sided workshop, thick with the scent of warm wax and the promise of impending colour, was an immersion in a process both ancient and alive. This wasn't merely a demonstration; it was a conversation with a heritage that refuses to be silenced. Batik in Sri Lanka: Historical Roots and Unique Identity The historical threads of batik in Sri Lanka are interwoven with Indonesian influences, yet the island has cultivated its unique aesthetic, often characterised by bold outlines and a distinct palette. For a period, this artisanal practice faced challenges, its intricate demands perhaps overshadowed by mass production. However, a powerful shift is underway. Hotels Supporting Traditional Sri Lankan Arts One particularly inspiring aspect of this renaissance is the proactive engagement of certain hotels. These establishments, far from simply showcasing the finished product, are actively nurturing the roots of the craft within their communities. Imagine the hands of local villagers, previously seeking sporadic income, now shaping wax patterns on fabric, their skills honed through training programmes initiated by forward-thinking resorts. These aren't charitable handouts; they are sustainable partnerships, breathing economic life into traditional artistry. Empowering Rural Artisans Through Batik Poorer individuals, often those with inherent artistic flair but limited opportunity, are finding a pathway to dignity and creative fulfillment through these initiatives. These partnerships are not just reviving a craft—they are changing lives. A Living Heritage: The Future of Sri Lankan Batik The resulting pieces, imbued with the spirit of their creators and the narrative of their origin, are far more than souvenirs. They are tangible embodiments of a cultural reclamation, a testament to Sri Lanka's enduring spirit and its capacity to re-imagine tradition for a contemporary world. The future of Sri Lankan batik, I believe, is as bright and richly patterned as the textiles themselves. The Malabar Hills Hotel The Malabar Hills is a quiet retreat in southern Sri Lanka. It sits on a rise overlooking the ocean, offering clear views from each room. Construction uses local wood and stone, blending the buildings into the landscape. Guest rooms are simply furnished, emphasizing natural light and open space. Each has a private balcony. The absence of televisions or extensive entertainment options encourages a focus on the surroundings. A central swimming pool provides a place for relaxation. Dining is informal, with meals prepared using ingredients from nearby farms and the sea. The atmosphere is consistently calm. Staff are discreet and attentive, maintaining a respectful distance while ensuring needs are met. The hotel attracts those seeking a break from busier environments, prioritizing peace and direct engagement with the natural setting. It offers a straightforward stay, unburdened by unnecessary frills.

I will always remember the day we called in to spend the afternoon at the extraordinary Mirbat Fish Port, located in the Dhofar region of Oman. It is a destination that should be on every seafood lover's list - a hidden gem that is not yet widely known, but its pristine waters and rich marine life make it a must-visit for anyone seeking a unique and authentic culinary experience. Introduction to Mirbat Fish Port Mirbat Fish Port is a hub of fishing activity, with a bustling fish market where you can find a variety of freshly caught seafood. From kingfish and tuna to lobsters and crabs, there is a wide range of fish and shellfish available at Mirbat Fish Port. Fresh Seafood at Mirbat Fish Market The best time to visit the fish market is early in the morning when the fishermen return with their catch. You can see them unload their boats and start selling their fish right on the spot. It's a great opportunity to witness the local culture and interact with the friendly fishermen. In addition to the fish market, Mirbat Fish Port offers a unique dining experience. Several seafood restaurants are located on the port's premises, where you can sample the freshest seafood dishes prepared in the local style. The restaurants offer outdoor seating with stunning views of the sea, making it a perfect spot for a romantic dinner or a family gathering. Scenic Surroundings at Mirbat Fish Port Apart from the delicious seafood, Mirbat Fish Port is also known for its picturesque surroundings. The crystal clear waters, palm trees, and sandy beaches make it an ideal place for a day trip. You can swim, snorkel, or simply relax on the beach and soak up the sun. The old town nearby is filled with old ruins, obviously from some war torn time in the not too distant past. In conclusion, Mirbat Fish Port is a hidden gem in Oman that is worth visiting. Its pristine waters and rich marine life make it a seafood lover's paradise. It's an authentic and unique culinary experience that you won't find elsewhere. So, if you are planning a trip to Oman, don't forget to add Mirbat Fish Port to your itinerary.

There are times when seeing is believing. And even then you may find yourself pinching yourself. Here’s an example… What you see in the photograph above is just a few miles from the location where this shot was taken. The landscape behind the coastal city of Salalah in southern Oman is remarkable in many ways. And the most notable of these is the fact that it is, in places, a very green area fed by fresh springs. This particular location is Ain Razat - an important source of spring water in the Dhofar area. It now acts as a public park, but it used to be one of the main sources of water for the port town of Salalah. The main spring, as well as several smaller contributories, flow into a long pool at the foot of the Jebel. The cool clear water flows along a falaj (watercourse) throughout the year, although flow is highest during the Khareef. The freshwater flows four miles to Al-Mamurah Palace, the Sultan’s residence when he is in Salalah. A further two miles and the watercourse reaches Razat Farm. Signs warn against swimming due to risks of Bilharzia (a parasitic worm), but this guy didn’t seem to be worried about that. Actually, I thought I may have had a touch of Bilharzia myself when I visited the loo at the rear of the carpark. The entire park was empty the day we visited and I was the only visitor to enter those public loos all day. A sad looking man took a coin off me as the price of entry to the toilets - then handed me a damp, shiny, knobbled stick. It was only when I had done the business in a truly foul latrine that I understood what the stick was for. It was one of the less salubrious and certainly less joyful moments in all my years of travel. You will be glad to hear I have no photos of that sorry interlude.

Foreign places can grow in the imagination during a person’s formative years – we can nurture romantic and colourful ideas about a country or region and somehow they stick as you grow older. For example, mental images of the Middle East can be seeded and amplified by biblical stories. Then, perhaps, we may watch a classic movie like Lawrence of Arabia - and suddenly the hot dusty region takes on a whole new allure and fascination. What we see in our Arabian Night tinted imaginations are sandy deserts dotted with green oasis; bare mountains hiding white villages carved out of rock, lined with date palm gardens watered by clear flowing streams; haughty camels strutting where other creatures would fear to tread; mysterious gun-toting people in long robes; the haunting sounds of the Imam calling folk to prayer… Then the world changes. Suddenly the Middle East – or much of it anyway – becomes a little bit hazardous for Westerners. In some places – the most Arabic and perhaps beautiful of them all, like the Yemen – travel becomes downright dangerous. We find ourselves writing off all those oriental dreams of Sinbad and Scheherazade. For many of us the more interesting destinations in the Arab world have become unsafe, while the few relatively secure places are two-dimensional and boring. And then we discover Oman… The wild and wonderful sultanate is all you ever imagined the Arabic Middle East could be. And perhaps a little more. Much if it is stunningly beautiful. The scenery can be awesome and dramatic. And the people are fantastically friendly – even though we Brits helped put the boot in to some of the hill tribes not so very long ago. In fact, I went to a crag above one very beautiful village high in the Akhdar Mountains where my guide told me we’d be going no further. He said the people there were fed up with being gawped at by the odd tourist who was passing. “Tourists? What tourists?” I protested looking at the vast empty rocky amphitheatre around me… That’s when he told me the truth - that British forces had bombed the place in the 1950s. I tell you this because I wish to underline just how warm and friendly most Omanis are, regardless of any British involvement in the country’s history. This is partly because these patriotic people are passionate about the country in which they live and are proud to share it with visitors. They also seem happy with the Sultan who rules over them. He is the son of the previous leader – the chap who called in the British to help him put down a five year Imam-led rebellion. Qaboos bin Said Al Said has ruled since 1970 – when he made sure things changed a good deal. The father had run the country with a harsh whip – and one can imagine he’d have met with an uncomfortable comeuppance had he survived to see last year’s Arabic Spring. The son is different. He began his rule by offering an amnesty to his father’s old opponents - then set about fighting disease, illiteracy, and poverty, upgrading educational and health facilities and creating a modern infrastructure. Oman is an oil-rich country and this particular sultan has done the wise thing and shared around some of the wealth. Workers don’t pay taxes and yet they are given free education and healthcare as well as property on which they can build a home as soon as they are married. No wonder they weren’t gathering in the squares of Muscat to overthrow the government last year… So that’s the background and why I say you can go there and travel freely and safely. Now for some of the details of the adventures on offer. MUSCAT Most journeys to Oman begin in the capital Muscat, which is where the modern international airport is and also where the government stages a huge annual beano. This year’s Muscat Festival attracted over 1.2 million visitors – I was one of them and enjoyed my day and night out there, even though the real purpose of my journey was head up into those alluring mountains. At the festival’s heritage and cultural village just about every Omani tradition ever invented is on display and you can watch artisans plying age-old skills as well as visit a working souk, where you can buy woven baskets, pottery and silver and so on. To be honest, though, all this is better done in the city or in the market towns of the deserts and mountains. Muscat’s own ancient souk is a particularly wonderful location in which to duck and dive – a great myriad of a place down by the old harbour where the thoroughfares and byways are covered to protect them from the relentless sun. The result is that the dark alleys and brightly lit shops and stalls take on a thrilling appeal of their own, and meandering around is relatively hustle-free compared with souks in other Middle Eastern cities I’ve visited. Muscat dates from the first century AD when its harbour won a name for itself as one of the main exporters of frankincense to Greece and Rome. You can still buy excellent frankincense there today - I regularly use the stuff on my wood burning stove at home to give the house an oriental aroma. Many centuries later the Portuguese heard about the wealth of this region and in 1507 gained control of Muscat. A century and a half later they were thrown out by local Imam - and so the ding-dong power struggle went on. You can still see old castles and turrets perched all around the ancient part of the city, so that you are left in no doubt that this was a place which required much defending down the years. I was staying up the coast some 40 miles north of Muscat at the Millennium Resort, Mussanah - a luxury hotel with its own apartment complexes and harbour. It was built just a couple of years ago to play host to a massive international sailing competition and the place still acts as a hub for serious water-sports activities now. But the Millenium Resort is also a first class hotel where the food and service is as good as anything I’ve experienced in the region before - although it has to be said that the flat coastal plain on which it is situated is far from lovely. However, my itinerary took me away from the place each day as guides from the excellent Bahwan Travel Group turned up in comfortable, air conditioned four wheel drives to take me exploring. And after a day travelling on rough tracks in the mountains it was more than pleasant to return to the absolute luxury of the resort despite its surroundings. It was the adventures – mainly in the Akhdar Mountain region - that I shall remember for a long, long time to come. The range extends some 200 miles just inland from the Gulf of Oman and is as spectacular a sequence of eminences as I’ve ever seen. The highest point, Jabal Shams (the mountain of the sun), is almost 10,000 feet in altitude and is the highest point in Oman and the whole of eastern Arabia – and I know for a fact that it’s altitudinous because I was taken almost to the summit where you will notice a distinct shortness of breath. These are desert mountains – by which I mean that they are, for the most part, bare rock. However, the higher areas receive a foot of precipitation each year which is enough, in the incredibly deep ravines and valleys at least, for scattered shrubs and trees and allows some agriculture. Hence the name which, translated, means the Green Mountains. A bit of a colourful exaggeration, I have to say… But then, I come from the emerald Westcountry. The green bits you see are mainly where the locals have built complex runnels and aqueducts to irrigate terraced gardens in the valley bottoms. These are magical oases among vast vertical slabs of bare rock which seem to reach high into the heavens. And I saw a great many of the mountains - roaring ever higher up seemingly impossible tracks in our four wheel drive. The most memorable journey was up the amazing Wadi Nakher, located in the depths of Oman's deepest canyon. Believe me, this is the nearest thing you’ll see to the Grand Canyon this side of the Atlantic. Apart from the little villages which cling impossibly to the sides of crags – with their terraced gardens and date palms looking more biblical than anything I’ve ever seen before – the place exudes a sense of eternal ancientness. This is perhaps echoed by the fact that humans have been living in these lonesome places for a very long time – probably as far back as 100,000 years. That makes our own ancient sites on Dartmoor and Exmoor look about as old as a new town on the outskirts of Exeter… Somehow you are aware of this time-immemorial aspect of the landscape as you lurch and bounce along the tracks that pass up through the wadis – which are the river valleys or ravines that man and his domestic animals have been plying up and down since way before the last Ice Age. It’s not all savage scenery – the Jebel Al Akhdar is renowned for its fruit orchards which you find in the aforementioned terraces. Apricots, figs, peaches, grapes, apples, pears, pomegranates, plums, almonds and walnuts are grown up here amid the rocks under the endlessly blue skies. Even better known are the roses of Jebel Al Akhdar - rosewater is distilled in homes across the range and the air in spring is said to be filled with fragrance. Nizwah Perhaps most noteworthy of all is Nizwa - the gateway to the mountain range. The oasis city was the nation’s capital back in the 6th and 7th centuries, which means that it is a place which groans with history and romance. And this in turn means that is the most popular tourist attraction in Oman – although you could hardly say the visitors overrun the many historic buildings or the imposing fort built in the mid 17th century by Imam Sultan Bin Saif Al Ya'ribi. The town has a population of around 70,000 and is almost completely surrounded by an immense palm oasis that stretches for five or so miles along the course of two wadis. At the very heart of the place is the famous, bustling, souq where you buy all manner of locally made copper and silver jewellery. Nizwa, which is sometimes called “The Pearl of Islam”, wasn’t always so welcoming of tourists. Just 60 years ago the British explorer Wilfred Thesiger was forced to steer clear of the place having arrived at an oasis just outside. Back in those days the town was run by an extremely strict regime and Thesiger’s Bedouin companions were convinced that the Nizwah-ites would have his guts for garters. They don’t spurn tourists nowadays but try and sell them some kind of craft item or nick-nack instead. Which is fine – although I have one complaint when it comes to the relationship that Omanis have with their visitors… And that is the food. I’d been looking forward to some kind of local repast in Nizwah, but it was never going to happen. It seems that food preparation in Oman is almost always done by women – but in this Muslim country they are not really expected to be out and about making a living by cooking for strangers. The result is that there are no restaurants selling local food. Eating outside the big international hotels means dining in one of the ubiquitous Indian restaurants that have a complete national monopoly when it comes to cuisine in this country. Which is also fine. I like Indian food – especially the Keralan cuisine which is often served in the road houses out there in the mountains. But I would also have liked to sample Omani cooking. However… This is the one and only downside of this most extraordinary of countries – and it will not for a second stop me planning another trip there as soon as I can. Fact file Martin travelled with Oman Air which offers daily direct flights to Muscat. Call 08444 822309 or visit www.omanair.com. Details of the Millennium Resort – Mussanah can be found at: www.millenniumhotels.com//om/millenniumresortmussanah Tours within the country can be arranged with the Bahwan Travel Group - www.bahwantravels.com For more information about Oman visit www.omantourism.gov.om Muscat Festival: www.muscat-festival.com

A Taste of Tunisian Life in Just 20 Minutes Just 20 minutes - that’s all we had time for as we entered the central medina in Tunis some 20 years ago – and I was fed up because, to do the vast, fascinating, colourful labyrinth justice, you need a day. That was a year ago and I had to be dragged out of the medieval bazaar kicking and screaming, grabbing handfuls of ludicrously cheap herbs and spices as I went. The man from the Tunisian tourist office looked concerned – it hadn’t really struck him that a visitor might find such an untidy, anarchic, place quite so absorbing. He was more accustomed to promoting the conventional sites like the impressive ruins at Carthage, and hosting whirlwind tours of five-star hotels. Living History in Tunisia’s Ancient Medinas I don’t mind a ruin or two, but give me a vibrant living piece of history any day. And that is exactly what you get in the great medinas of Tunisia. They are genuine organisms of the living past, and do not exist solely to pander to foreign tourists. Other North African and Middle Eastern countries have such places, but sometimes you get the feeling that we Westerners are not altogether welcome. Tunisia is different. There is something altogether more relaxed, less oppressive and less threatening about wandering freely and alone around its crowded marketplaces compared to others I have known – especially these days. A Perfect Four-Day Tunisia Itinerary: Culture and Coastal Luxury So when the same tourism official offered me a special four day tour blending visits to the medinas with overnight stays at some of Tunisia’s most luxurious spa beach resorts, I grabbed the trip with all the enthusiasm of an amateur cook let loose in a spice bazaar. It’s the sort of excursion that the more adventurous can enjoy as a long and very exotic weekend. Your days are filled with North African promise, your late afternoons and evenings render you thoroughly pampered. Tasting Tunisia: From Clay-Pot Lamb to Moorish Tiles Arriving at Tunis we were whisked a few miles to the ancient port of Carthage and deposited in the highly sophisticated Corinthia Khamsa Hotel. If you are anything like me, the first thing you want to do upon reaching a country is to taste its cuisine. The experience can somehow set up the trip, and the Corinthia Khamsa was no disappointment when it came to fabulously delicious, authentic, local food. I was attracted by the following item on the menu: “Lamb cooked in a clay spout”. It was just that. The meat stew came rammed into a sort of sealed clay pot which the waiter had to carefully smash with a silver hammer. The cinnamon and other spice flavours which poured forth were intense, but there was also the definite and rather interesting tang of clay. Inside the Medina of Tunis Next morning we were off to the central medina in Tunis. Medina, by the way, means “old town” – and it can be full of various souks (markets) selling anything and everything from cement mixers to spices - taking in clothes, shoes, leatherwork and artwork along the way. The medina at Tunis is everything, and more, that you imagine a Middle Eastern bazaar to be. Forget bothering with a sense of direction – the place is a warren on a huge scale and you must simply wander and hope for the best. We lunched at the famous Dar Bel Haj restaurant which we somehow found in the centre of the medina. It’s an extraordinary old place, tall and cool, lined with thousands of ornate tiles in Moorish style. The food gave us an instant glimpse of Tunisia’s traditional cuisine and also into the generosity of its people. Bowl after bowl of intriguing salads were placed into the middle of the table and we were filled to the brim with strange mixtures of egg, fish and various vegetables long before the meat-laden mains turned up to kill us off. My own best-buy in the medina was a huge, heavy, hooded shepherd’s cloak made from a sort of felt. On cold winter days this 20 euro bargain now provides me with the warmest dressing gown ever invented. Port El Kantaoui: Coastal Calm and Seawater Spas After a day haggling (yes, haggling is almost compulsory when attempting to buy anything in the souk) we travelled south to the modern coastal resort of Port El Kantaoui. An early evening stroll around the marina provided us with the wind-down necessary after two hours spent on somewhat alarming Tunisian roads, and I soaked away a further hour in Hotel Hasdrubal’s wonderful seawater swimming pool which is equipped with any number of muscle relaxing jets and whirlpools. The next morning I strolled down the boardwalk through the dunes and found myself on an endless white beach that was empty save for a man on a moped who dashed along the waters edge as fast as the thing would go. Apart from him, I was utterly alone. Sousse: Food Markets, Medinas and Memories South of Port El Kantaoui we arrived at the ancient coastal town of Sousse where we spent the morning in another vast medina. This one is somehow lighter and more airy than the capital’s old town, but extensively labyrinthine nevertheless. The stall-holders and shopkeepers are a little more used to European tourists and so hit you with a harder sell, but we were soon able to find refuge from both the haggling and the heat in a cool, subterranean bar that seemed to sell nothing but the fresh crushed juice of various fruits. Refuelled, I spent an hour looking around the various food markets and drooled, not only at the vast array of produce on offer, but also at the prices. Fresh fish was piled in small mountains, each of which cost less than a British portion of chips. The vegetables were even cheaper. A pile of multi-coloured carrots caught my eye – they looked for all the world like a sort of ice lollypop I remember buying as a kid. Also impressive were vast piles of the whitest and largest bulbs of fennel I’ve ever seen. The only off-putting section of the market was Sousse’s version of Barnstaple’s Butcher’s Row. Not nice. Sheep heads lay forlornly on chopping blocks with their sad dead eyes glinting in the sun. Everywhere there was blood and bone, tripe and lung. The place yelled death, which I suppose, is what a butcher’s is really all about. Hammamet: Modern Resorts and Ancient Relaxation After Sousse we visited the modern resort of Yasmine Hammamet where we were taken around the brand new medina. I won’t bother describing this – the day’s experience was like walking around Dunster Castle only to be transported to some Gothic mock-up in Disneyland. Then for the ultimate relaxation: we travelled up the coast to the older town of Hammamet where staff at the palatial Nahrawess Hotel had what they described as a “surprise” in store for us. As he led us to the hotel’s £multi-million new spa facility, the manager said he would not tell us what was about to befall us because it would spoil the experience – but he did divulge that it was one of only seven such facilities in the world. The Ghassoul Experience: Mud, Steam and Magic Ten minutes later every inch of me was caked in mud. Five minutes after that I was sitting in a hot, dark, cavern under artificial star-light listening to sounds of wavelets washing gently upon a shore. Aromatic clouds of steam billowed from a large tiled receptacle in the middle of the strange room and I slid further and further into the sculpted seat which was equipped with tiny rivers of water to help you keep cool. The “ghassoul” – to give it the official name – was the most relaxing thing I’d ever done. Weird dreams of Ancient Araby overtook me… Until jets of cold water began to spray from every orifice in the room. At this point white-coated girls entered bearing hosepipes. The mud was blasted from every human surface. All very odd. But strangely, ethereally, enjoyable. Tunisia Travel: Exotic Worlds Within Easy Reach And that, in some ways, is the best way of encapsulating a short break in Tunisia. It’s just three hours flying time from London, but you are plunged deep into a very foreign and exotic world. A world of great comfort if you get the right hotel – and certainly a world of colourful and fascinating mystery. www.cometotunisia.co.uk