One of the great things about getting out and about is that you can see how other people do things and perhaps borrow some of their ideas for use at home. It’s an experience I had last weekend when I was invited down to Madeira to witness an event which they call The Atlantic Festival. It takes place each June to celebrate the coming of the summer, and the various events are staged with much style and panache. So much so, that I spent the three-hour flight back to Bristol Airport thinking what a thoroughly good idea it would be for the South West UK to replicate such a festival. We, after all, are fellow ocean-dwellers. We share the Atlantic with a special group of nations or regions which cling to Europe’s western edges - and celebrating our vast benign, life-giving, temperature-controlling, ocean during the season when it is at its most calm and peaceful seems like a great idea. If you want to see how such a celebration can be done, book yourself a trip to the island 1500 miles to the south next year. The islanders put on an array of events across the entire month - including all manner of cultural events such as concerts and operas - but the highlight occurs each Saturday night when they stage a massive firework competition in the lovely capital city of Funchal. The Madeirans love fireworks, and teams from around Europe are invited each year to stage displays on consecutive Saturday nights. The winner is invited to help put on the really big show at New Year’s Eve, said by many to be Europe’s biggest and best annual pyrotechnic event. Exactly why the good folk of Madeira are so keen on fireworks I have no idea - perhaps it’s something to do with living far out in a vast blank ocean and wanting to leave their mark on the heavens in some way… But, believe me, these shows are no ordinary firework displays - they are bigger, more dramatic and general grander than anything I have witnessed in the UK. Indeed, the Madeira International Firework Competition doesn’t even talk about “displays” - it refers to these explosive events as “pyro-musical shows”. Teams set up their fireworks on a quayside out in the bay in front of Funchal and some 10,000 people or more gather around the harbour-side to watch all the fun. There are all manner of booths and stalls selling delicious Madeiras food, snacks and drinks and there’s a preliminary extravaganza featuring music, dancing or whatever. Last Saturday it was an amazing 45-minute “Circus Art Show” - an avant-garde performance featuring contemporary dance, acrobatics, percussion and circus acts… I’m not really one for contemporary dance, but even I was entranced by the performance, which must have cost a fortune to stage. I mention this because all the entertainment is totally free. If you’re a firework lover, then the display alone is worth the airfare from Bristol. Which, by the way, is pretty much affordable nowadays, added to the fact that aeroplanes have got faster meaning the flight down to Madeira can nowadays take just a little over three hours. What’s not to like about an island rich in British connections 1500 miles to the south? Not much. I absolutely love the place and would happily live there if I wasn’t addicted to my Exmoor homeland. Why? For many reasons, but you have to begin with the island’s sheer physical beauty. It might be relatively small, but Madeira is hugely grand - with mountains climbing more than 6000 feet straight out of the ocean. Indeed, the island very few flat areas, with the exception of one large, rather strange and mystical, high-altitude plain which sits nearly 5000 feet above the ocean. It is the birthplace for many of the famous “levadas” - small irrigation canals many of which were created hundreds of years ago so that islanders could capture water up inn the heights to water their sun-baked farms way down below. To my mind these gravity-defying waterways are one of the wonders of the Western World - exactly how they engineered these little canals along impossible contours and across open cliff-faces, defies the imagination. They ensure the farmers have plenty of water, but they also provide walkers with the most amazing opportunity to enjoy scenic mountain hikes with panoramic views of the ocean, without the need to make lung-bursting climbs or knee-straining descents. Choose your ‘levada’ - either high above the busy southern half of the island or towards the much emptier, steeper and rainier north - and you can stroll for miles along the paths which accompany each tiny canal. Madeira’s vast levada network spans a staggering 2,000 miles on an island that measures just 35 long by 14 miles wide, so you are spoilt for choice. My advice, though, would be to join one of the many guided walks - not all levadas are the same and some will take you to some vertiginous and perilous places. Other guided hikes will take you along one of the old “royal paths” - an extraordinary network of cobbled trails built by the decree of a 19th century Portuguese king who realised that his island subjects required an alternative transport system to the coastal boats which used to be the only link between communities. Although these routes were designed as simple pathways for people or for oxen-drawn sledges, they represent incredible feats of engineering. And many demand a good head for heights - like the one I did (the Caminho Real do Paúl do Mar) from a village perched almost vertically 1800 feet above a small harbour. The cobbled pathway zig-zags its way down an extremely steep gorge and, like I say, you really do need a good head for heights. But the one-and-a-half hour hike does give you some idea of how the folk of this island must have lived before the invention of the internal combustion engine. The cobbled trail not only bears witness to the amazing amount of hard work it must have required, it also shows you how incredibly strong and fit the folk of yore must have been. I have a theory that over many generations Madeirans must have evolved stronger leg muscles and bigger lung capacities by carrying heavy loads up and down these vertiginous paths. It was enough for me to go down that 1800 foot route, I’d have struggled climbing back up carrying nothing more than a mobile phone, let alone a heavy load. It’s when you get out and about in Madeira that you begin to see why they might love to celebrate the coming of summer. Celebrate anything, in fact. I am told that the Madeirans are great ones for any kind of party or festival. And why not? For centuries, life must have been very tough indeed for a people who knew only the world of the steep lung-bursting mountain slope and of the wild and dangerous ocean. The fact that we, as modern day tourists, can go to the beautiful island and join their celebrations is a privilege. And a highly enjoyable one, at that. FACT FILE Martin visited the island as a guest of Madeira Tourism - to find out more visitmadeira.com/e To learn about events such as the Atlantic Festival visit - visitmadeira.com/en/whats-on/event Direct flights to Madeira from the South West: Bristol – Madeira Operated by Easyjet Weekly frequencies – Mondays, Thursdays & Saturdays June 2024 until June 2025 Bristol – Madeira Operated by Jet2.com Weekly frequency – Mondays June 2024 until December 2025 Bournemouth – Madeira Operated by Jet2.com Weekly frequency – Thursdays May 2025 until December 2025

One of the great things about visiting Madeira at any time of the year is the excellent food. The islanders absolutely love their food, they take it very seriously and have a great pride in it. Which is one of the great bonuses of visiting the island’s Atlantic Festival. It’s not at all difficult to find wonderful food, from the classic basic “prego no bolo do caco” sandwich (a local flatbread filled with served with garlic butter and thin beef steak, as well as salad, ham, cheese egg to name but a few additions) through to sophisticated seafood feasts. Not surprisingly Madeira majors in seafood, and they do it very well indeed. It’s not just the amazing local tuna or the strange but delicious “scabbard fish” that creates head-lines on menus. The islanders are addicted to the humble limpet - and when you get to eat a plate-full, you can taste why. Simply grilled with oil, lemon juice and lots of garlic, they are a sensation! Yes, the variety of limpet is a little different from ours (smaller, in a shallower shell) but it does beg the question why one Atlantic people can go mad over a delicious and nutritious dish that another, mysteriously, ignores completely. More fool us, I say. If you really want to see why Madeira food is so wonderful, then all you have to do is visit Funchal’s wonderful old market - especially on a Friday or a Saturday when local farmers come down from the mountains to sell their produce. I have visited a lot of produce markets around the world - in fact, it is the nearest thing I have to a hobby - but I believe it might be true to say that the standard of fruit, fish and vegetables you see in Funchal market is the best anywhere on the planet. Why? When it comes to the stuff they grow, the mountainous island is blessed with the richest of volcanic soils. Add wall-to-wall sunshine, ocean-cooled temperatures and plenty of mountain rainfall and you have a veg gardener’s idea of heaven. As for the seafood, there’s not much fishing competition so far out into the ocean - and the clean extremely deep waters are rich in many species. Spend a week in Madeira and you will only begin to scratch the surface when it comes to what the island can offer, be it with food, wine, scenic walks or simply enjoying a thousand different views. Madeira's cuisine is a reflection of its geographical location and historical influences. Positioned in the Atlantic Ocean, the island's access to fresh seafood is unparalleled. Additionally, the fertile volcanic soil produces a variety of fruits and vegetables that contribute to the local diet. Over centuries, Portuguese, African, and even British influences have melded to create a distinctive culinary tradition. Key Ingredients in Madeiran Cooking The staples of Madeiran cuisine include a variety of fresh fish, meats, tropical fruits, and vegetables. Some of the most notable ingredients are: Espada (Black Scabbardfish): This deep-sea fish is a delicacy in Madeira, often served with banana or passion fruit sauce. Bacalhau (Salted Cod): A Portuguese staple, bacalhau is prepared in numerous ways, including in stews and casseroles. Sweet Potatoes and Yams: These are commonly used in soups and side dishes. Exotic Fruits: Passion fruit, mango, and custard apple are widely grown and used in desserts and drinks. Traditional Madeiran Dishes Espetada: This is a skewered beef dish marinated with garlic, salt, and bay leaves, then grilled over open flames. Traditionally, it is cooked on laurel skewers, which add a distinctive flavor. Bolo do Caco: A round, flatbread made from wheat flour and sweet potato, bolo do caco is typically served with garlic butter and is a must-try. Picado: A popular communal dish, picado consists of small pieces of beef cooked with garlic, wine, and spices, served with fries or bread. Sopa de Trigo: This hearty wheat soup often includes vegetables, beans, and sometimes meat, reflecting the island's agricultural bounty. Lapas: Grilled limpets seasoned with garlic, butter, and lemon are a seafood lover's delight. Unique Beverages of Madeira Madeira Wine: Perhaps the most famous product of the island, Madeira wine comes in various styles ranging from dry to sweet. It is often used in cooking and as a dessert wine. Poncha: A traditional alcoholic beverage made from distilled alcohol (aguardente), honey, sugar, and lemon juice, poncha is both refreshing and potent. This is me trying out poncha in the video. Culinary Experiences in Madeira Visitors to Madeira can immerse themselves in the local food culture by visiting traditional markets, such as Mercado dos Lavradores in Funchal. Here, they can sample a wide array of fresh produce and seafood. Many restaurants and eateries offer traditional dishes, ensuring an authentic taste of the island's culinary heritage. Madeiran cuisine is a vibrant tapestry of flavours and traditions. The island's culinary offerings are a testament to its rich cultural history and bountiful natural resources. From savory espetada to sweet Madeira wine, the food of Madeira provides a delightful exploration for any food enthusiast. When planning a visit to Madeira, be sure to indulge in the local dishes that make this island a true gastronomic treasure. One recommendation I can make is to visit Theo’s - https://theos.pt/ PR 19 - Caminho Real do Paul do Mar - Visit Madeira | Madeira Islands Tourism Board official website Atlantic Festival 2024 - Programme by Visit Madeira - Issuu Madeira Rum - Visit Madeira | Madeira Islands Tourism Board official website Engenho do Norte - Visit Madeira | Madeira Islands Tourism Board official website Frequently Asked Questions About Food in Madeira What food is Madeira famous for? Madeira is famous for its fresh seafood, locally grown fruit and vegetables, and distinctive traditional dishes. Some of the island's best-known specialities include espetada – beef cooked on skewers – black scabbardfish, grilled limpets and bolo do caco, a traditional flatbread usually served warm with garlic butter. What is the traditional food of Madeira? Traditional Madeiran cuisine is based around fresh, simple ingredients, with fish, seafood and meat featuring prominently. Espetada is one of the island's most famous meat dishes, while black scabbardfish, known locally as espada, is a speciality often served with banana. Bolo do caco bread is another Madeiran favourite. What is espetada in Madeira? Espetada is a traditional Madeiran dish consisting of chunks of beef seasoned with garlic and salt and cooked on a skewer, traditionally over hot coals. It is often presented hanging vertically from a stand at the table and served with accompaniments such as salad, chips and bolo do caco. What is black scabbardfish? Black scabbardfish, or espada, is a deep-sea fish closely associated with Madeira. Despite its rather alarming appearance, it has delicate white flesh and is found on menus across the island. One of the most famous Madeiran combinations is black scabbardfish served with fried banana. What is bolo do caco? Bolo do caco is a traditional Madeiran bread with a soft interior and lightly crisp exterior. It is commonly served warm with garlic butter and makes a popular accompaniment to meals. You'll find it in restaurants, cafés and food stalls throughout Madeira. What is poncha? Poncha is a traditional alcoholic drink from Madeira made with sugar cane spirit, honey and citrus juice, traditionally lemon. There are now many variations using different fruits. It is sweet, strong and an important part of Madeira's food and drink culture. Is Madeira good for seafood? Yes. Madeira's location in the Atlantic means fresh fish and seafood feature prominently on restaurant menus. Look out for black scabbardfish, tuna, octopus and limpets, known locally as lapas, which are often grilled and served sizzling with garlic, butter and lemon. Where can I discover local food in Funchal? The Mercado dos Lavradores, or Farmers' Market, in Funchal is one of the best-known places to experience Madeira's colourful food culture. Its stalls display an extraordinary selection of tropical and subtropical fruits, vegetables, flowers and local produce, while its fish market offers a glimpse of the seafood caught in the waters around the island.

The picnic season began weeks ago, thanks to the weather. In fact, you could argue, there’s never been a better year for picnics. All you need is some shade so you can hide from the sun - which is not something you’ve often been able to say in an average British summer. Now, as we reach peak holiday season, picnickers across the region will be dusting off hampers, hunting down tartan rugs and planning outdoor repasts. In your mind you see images of hot beaches, cool riversides or lush green meadows where your picnic rug is laden with wonderful things to eat. But the sheer logistics of preparing a minor banquet at home and carting it over hill and dale does tend to put most of us off, most of the time. A past study carried out by the National Trust uncovered all manner of negative perceptions. More than half the respondents questioned admitted they were deterred by the threat of wasps and insects - a bit of feeble excuse given the grand scale of the great outdoors. More bafflingly, a third of those surveyed claimed they felt restricted about where they were legally permitted to eat outdoors. Which surprised me. I feel mystified when I see people picnicking in lay-bys on the side of busy roads. Surely they could find somewhere more pleasant and peaceful? Historically the pique-nique, as the original spelling indicates, was a French invention - and you could argue that the folk across the Channel are better at executing them. They have the portable meal down to a fine art, whereas the National Trust research discovered that two-thirds of English folk thought it was too difficult and too much fuss to create meals to eat outside. The result has all too often been a national fallback on industrially manufactured pork pies, soggy sandwiches, unripe tomatoes, and perhaps an overheated apple. Now we’re experiencing the warmest summers on record, perhaps we ought to rid ourselves of this negative thinking. Humans have been around for more than 100,000 years, and we have only been dining indoors for a fraction of that time. A good picnic can be a reward for hard work or for enduring months of wintry weather. It is the antithesis of hard slog, the opposite of humdrum, and the enemy of everyday uniformity. The Anatomy of the Perfect Picnic Spot To understand what elevates a standard outdoor lunch into something memorable, you need to look at the structural requirements of the location itself. When Exmoor’s famous medieval clapper bridge at Tarr Steps was named the UK’s best picnic venue by the Sunday Times a few years ago, it was because the wooded section of the River Barle contains all the essential ingredients required for al-fresco perfection. First: superb scenery. Who wants to suffer the physical discomfort of sitting on the ground just to be confronted by something ugly or mundane? Secondly, a premier spot requires natural shelter. I’d normally say the outdoor diner needs a topography that keeps out the prevailing wind and rain but, as I say, this year we need shade. Thirdly, a comfortable bit of nature to sit on - all too often overlooked by those who mistakenly choose pebble beaches or jagged Dartmoor tors. Hard surfaces will suffice provided they are smooth, but a grassy sward is the gold standard. Fourthly, there must be something to stare at. Ideally, as well as a good view, the human eye requires a focal point - a rushing river, a historic ruin, or the entertainment of watching tourists teeter perilously across stepping stones. Finally, a truly great location requires space for children to burn off energy, combined with the possible need for a Plan B - a nearby alternative location of equal merit should the primary spot be entirely overrun by mid-afternoon. Oh, and while we’re on about locations… please please do not use one of those horrible portable barbecues. Not at any time, but particularly not this summer when everything is tinder dry. Six of the Best West Country Locations If we leave out the much-vaunted Tarr Steps, I can, off the top of my head, think of half a dozen locations that fulfil the criteria: 1. Porthgwarra, West Penwith An idyllic hidden cove with the feel of a classic coastal adventure story. Fabulous oceanic scenery sheltered by the massive bulk of Gwennap Head. A cosy cove where children can explore hand-carved tunnels. Plan B: The grand sandy expanse of neighbouring Porthcurno. 2. Fernworthy Reservoir, Dartmoor A combination of wilderness, woodland and water, thanks to Forestry England and South West Lakes Trust. Located in the heart of the moor, yet extensive forest provide shelter and shade from the elements, alongside purpose-built picnic facilities. Plan B: Bellever Forest, with many similar attributes, just down the road. 3. Staple Plain, The Quantocks Moorland mixed with managed forest and expansive views. The ready-made picnic tables installed at the edge of the plantation are well-protected from hot sun and prevailing. Plan B: Holford Glen, which offers even deeper shade and a distinctly poetic atmosphere. 4. Cromwell’s Castle, Tresco One of the most dramatic spots in the Isles of Scilly. The neighbouring island of Bryher protects the fjord-like sound from the worst of the wind. Plan B: The white sandy sweep of Old Grimsby on the opposite side of the island - or the amazing Low-Tide Pop-Up Picnic which is held between the islands each year. 5. Golden Cap, West Dorset For those occasions when only the grandest will suffice. Dining on the South Coast’s highest hill offers vast panoramas of the Devon and Dorset coastlines. Because it is so steep-sided, one flank or the other will always provide shelter from the wind. Plan B: Heading to the beach at Charmouth to search for fossils. 6. Valley of Rocks, Lynton As reported in last week’s feature, the natural drama of the Exmoor coast offers some flat, grassy swards right alongside dramatic jagged rocky knolls, with the bulk of Castle Rock serving as a windbreak. Plan B: The cosy, sheltered beach at nearby Lee Bay. The South West Coast Path is a perfect trail along which to find fabulous picnic spots - to read more take a look at our Coast Path page here Gastronomy of the Hamper If the geography requires careful consideration, the contents of the basket must take absolute precedence. For decades, the default British portable meal has relied heavily on the ready-made items such as a lacklustre shop-bought sausage roll. Good picnic food should be a challenge rather than an afterthought. The alternative to cheap and ready-made is not necessarily to go overly ornate with quail eggs and homemade asparagus tarts but to focus on simple, robust dishes that travel well and even improve when allowed to rest for a few hours. Why not follow a Mediterranean theme? After all, they’ve spent centuries evolving outdoor food for hot weather. The first rule of a classic British sandwich, for example, is to avoid fillings that introduce sogginess to the bread during transit (the solution: pack fillings in a sealed container and assemble sandwiches on-site) - alternatively, you can lean into the continental tradition where moisture is viewed as an attribute. In Provence, the classic pan bagnat relies on allowing flavours to infuse a rustic crust. A large baguette or round boule is split, rubbed with garlic, and drizzled with high-quality, cold-pressed virgin olive oil, then packed tightly with ripe sliced tomatoes, anchovies or tuna, black olives, capers, and sliced peppers. The top crust is replaced, the entire loaf is wrapped securely and placed under a heavy weight for several hours before departure. The result is sublime, structured and mess-free. Italian Al Fresco Salads Salad Type Primary Ingredients Dressing & Herbs Chef's Tip Bollito Misto di Verdure Seasonal vegetables (peas, new potatoes, asparagus, fine beans) steamed separately until al dente. Extra virgin olive oil or rich mayonnaise mixed with capers and chopped flat-leaf parsley. Allow the vegetables to cool completely before dressing to prevent from wilting. Insalata di Riso Long-grain rice, flaked tuna, pitted olives, diced red peppers, peeled tomatoes, artichoke hearts… A sharp, lemony vinaigrette to cut through the richness of the fish. Pack in a wide shallow container to keep the rice from becoming compressed and heavy. Paste all'Ammiraglio Penne pasta, blanched and seeded tomatoes, torn fresh mozzarella, and whole capers. Extra virgin olive oil, sea salt, cracked black pepper, and torn basil leaves. Rinse the cooked pasta in cold water immediately after boiling to stop the cooking process and preserve the texture. As for drink… well, I’m biased being a West Country boy - I like just a slurp of chilled cider. Sandford Orchards has relaunched its English sparkling cider, Katja, in a convenient new 500ml format. A home-grown alternative to English sparkling wine, Katja (6.8% ABV) is crafted from Katy dessert apples at Britain's oldest working cider mill in Devon. By cold-fermenting with white wine yeast, the team has created a sophisticated cider, “ with notes of strawberry, pear and melon”. Radical Picnicking The finest outdoor dining experiences are those that live long in the memory. I was once invited to a picnic in the Isles of Scilly where the schoolchildren of the archipelago gathered for their annual end-of-term outing on the deserted island of Samson. For a day, the ruined crofts echoed with laughter and beach games before the children and teachers departed, leaving the island to its gulls and oystercatchers. But you don’t need a deserted Atlantic island. The most satisfying al-fresco meal of the year can take place in the depths of winter. The secret is a vacuum flask - not for some lukewarm, uninspiring beverage, but filled instead with a steaming leftover curry or a stew reheated from the previous evening. Wherever, whenever you do it, there’s an unexplained chemical or psychological truth that says that food eaten under an open sky tastes superior in some way. Fresh air, the acoustic backdrop of the landscape and the physical effort of actually getting there, somehow combine to create a perfect seasoning. Leave industrially produced pies and grey sausage rolls behind. With a little geographical foresight and a little tie spent in preparation, the West Country picnic can become exactly what it was always intended to be - a small civilised triumph over the wild randomness of nature. Picnic by the River Exe: photo Nick Hook Frequently Asked Questions Q: Where is the best place to picnic in the West Country? A: While Exmoor's Tarr Steps is widely celebrated, premier alternatives include Porthgwarra in West Penwith for coastal scenery, Fernworthy Reservoir on Dartmoor for woodland shade, and the dramatic Valley of Rocks near Lynton. Q: How do you prevent sandwiches from getting soggy on a picnic? A: You can either pack your fillings separately in airtight containers and assemble them on-site, or pivot to continental styles like the French pan bagnat, which uses olive oil and juices to intentionally infuse a rustic loaf under a heavy weight before traveling. Q: Can you have a picnic in the winter? A: Absolutely. "Radical picnicking" in the colder months relies on utilizing a high-quality vacuum flask to bring along hot, robust meals like leftover curries or stews, proving that outdoor dining isn't just for warm summer days.

The grand view of Lynmouth Bay If anyone was ever to compile a list of Very Special Places in the West Country, then the combined communities of Lynton and Lynmouth would have to come near the top. For the pure drama of the landscape, there are few locations in England that can beat this vertiginous corner of the coast. Pass the Lyn River ravine just beneath the pub at Countisbury on the A39 heading west, and you are suddenly confronted with one of the most stunning panoramas to be seen anywhere in the country. There, more than 1000 feet below you, is the curve of Lynmouth Bay, and from this vantage point you can see how the twin-communities sit almost like items on a bookshelf or a bunk-bed. IF YOU ENJOY THS POST CHECK OUT OUR EXMOOR PAGE Looking down from Countisbury at Lynton and Lynmouth Because everything is on the vertical in this landscape. The mighty hills of Exmoor seem reluctant to give way to the ocean until the very last minute - at Countisbury you are still high up on the plateau but from this corner you can see how the Lyn Rivers have cleaved what is almost a gorge between you and those two communities. There’s Lynmouth way down at the bottom on the shoreline and, perched almost vertically above it there’s Lynton some 400 feet above, huddled on its shelf surrounded by yet more hills. Lynmouth seafront, North Devon The Birth of 'Little Switzerland' No wonder the area around Lynton and Lynmouth was given the appellation Little Switzerland back in Victorian times when the first tourists came adventuring west by stagecoach. The Romantic poets Coleridge, Wordsworth, Southey, Hazlitt and Shelley are often named as the world’s first tourists - they went for long country walks purely to admire the scenery – a thing not often done in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. The place they loved to reach by foot and explore was this dramatic coast. Shelley even chose to spend his honeymoon here in 1812. v After the poets, other tourists began to arrive aboard stagecoaches with wonderful names like Katerfelty, Lorna Doone, Red Deer, Benita and Tally Ho (the Minehead-Lynmouth service ran as late as 1921). Then the Bristol Channel pleasure steamers began to call and, in 1898, the Lynton-Barnstaple Railway opened and the day-trippers began to arrive en-masse. Tourism became a buzzword and it was around this time that some bright spark marketing consultant coined the phrase Little Switzerland in an attempt to lure yet more trippers. The area no longer needs marketing consultants or quaint nicknames. It’s still relatively remote and difficult to reach, but when I visit nowadays (which I do often) I rarely find the place empty. Looking west from The Valley of Rocks A Welcome Renewal at The Crown Good news, then, that a lovely old inn up in Lynton has recently seen a completion to extensive renovations which have converted it into a very desirable hostelry offering 21st century food and accommodation. The Crown reopened this spring following a thoughtful restoration, unveiling new and improved bedrooms alongside refreshed bar, restaurant and terrace spaces. Overseen by owners, St Austell Brewery the project restored ten older rooms and introduced five new superior and deluxe rooms to the inn, “blending traditional character with a brighter, more contemporary feel,” according to a spokesman for the brewery. The Crown at Lynton It does just that. I called in for lunch the other day and liked the way in which the refurbishment has been sympathetic, retaining much-loved features from yesteryear - including the collection of iconic Mick Cawston artworks displayed throughout the pub. He was a talented artist who was living locally before his untimely death in 2006. The bar at The Crown has Mick Cawston's amazing images on the walls To quote one source on the internet: “Mick was a master of atmosphere. His countryside scenes - whether of foxes, deer, hares, or the quiet corners of rural Britain - carry a soulfulness that reflects his own relationship with the natural world. You can sense in every brushstroke that he wasn’t just observing nature; he was part of it.” The writer concludes: “Every now and then, an artist comes along whose work doesn’t just hang on a wall - it lives in the hearts of the people who see it. For so many animal lovers, dog owners, countryside wanderers, and art collectors, Mick Cawston was one of those rare talents.” So the renovations at the Crown were carried out around Mick’s work. “We couldn’t possibly have done anything else,” duty manageress, Emily Francis, told me as we admired the late Mr Cawston’s artworks which were painted directly onto the wall of the bar. “If anything happened to these, it would be a crime - no one would dare paint over them,” decreed Emily. “People love the paintings here in the bar and come especially to see them. He had a little studio just up the road and they say he painted them to pay off his bar bill.” We were able to admire Mick’s large wall paintings of musicians playing in-situ in the bar, wild Exmoor ponies, portraits of dogs and foxes wearing Victorian hats and various brilliant sketches of lurchers and other long-dogs, while eating a splendid lunch. One of the revamped rooms at The Crown, Food sits at the heart of The Crown’s new offering, with menus built around a field-to-fork ethos and local ingredients. There’s also a terrace where cocktails and ice creams, including signature knickerbocker glories are served. In short, I’d say The Crown, one of more than 120 leased and tenanted pubs in St Austell Brewery’s South West estate, is ideally placed for walkers, holidaymakers and for those simply wanting a relaxed coastal stay. Good pub food at The Crown Fantasy Architecture and the Valley of Rocks I certainly enjoyed our sunny afternoon at Lynton last week, exploring both the town and the Valley of Rocks just along the road. Our first port of call was the imposing town hall with its extraordinary mixture of architectural styles. Gothic, neo-Tudor and art nouveau all combine to make the wonderful old place look like something dreamed up in some baroque fantasy by Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle. Actually Sir Arthur officially opened the place on August 15, 1900 and, in a way, his man Sherlock Holmes paid for it. The building was funded by Sir George Newnes, part of whose wealth came from publishing Conan-Doyle’s stories. Lynton's Town Hall To the right of the town hall there’s a footpath which takes you west out to the Valley of Rocks - and it does so on the dramatic, perpendicular, seaward side of the hill. I don’t think I’m overdoing it if I advise sufferers of vertigo to avoid this path, although it is paved and quite safe. The coast path at Lynton is not one for folk with a fear of heights It eventually enters the Valley of Rocks at the place where the great defile spills into the sea. The gorge is peculiar in that it has no watercourse and it runs parallel to the shore, rather than directly towards it. The theory is that it was once the main valley of the Lyn Rivers when the sea level was a good deal higher than it is now. The waves and river waters eroded the softer sandstones in the valley and gave an easier route of egress which is the one that now forms the valley down at Lynmouth. Directly in front of us stands dramatic Castle Rock - and a detour up this craggy pyramid is compulsory in my opinion. At the top you can see the jagged hole in the rocks that is known as the White Lady – but only because the outline could look like an old fashioned female in a bonnet, if you ignore the over-stated breasts. Opposite the valley, inland, we can see the Devil’s Cheese-ring – a tall rock-stack that may or may not have been home to legendary Mother Meldrum. IF YOU'VE ENJOYED THIS POST CHECK OUT OUR OTHER LOCATIONS IN DEVON For those who are feeling fit there is a route up, up and up past the rock-stack to the footpath which runs along the very brink of the slope called South Cleave. By turning left along this path you can make your way back to the heart of Lynton. Those who do not fancy the extra, near vertical, 300 foot climb can simply walk back up the bottom of the Valley of Rocks, passing the famously picturesque cricket pitch as they go. Passing also, a pleasant looking tea-room and gardens… Echoes of History Back in Lynton we strolled down a small thoroughfare called Blackmore’s Path, which took us out onto Sinai Hill. A biblical sounding street named after a rock called Mount Sinai, which used to be a favourite viewpoint hereabouts. Where it is now and why it was named after a Middle Eastern height, I have no idea. A quick plug here for the excellent Lyn and Exmoor Museum which is in adjacent Market Street… It is presently closed for a major refurbishment, but is one of the best small town museums in Devon and I look forward to its reopening. If Lynton has an actual centre then it is Church Hill, with its shops on the left as you walk up, and St Mary’s church and the vast Valley of Rocks Hotel on your right. Bertrand Russell apparently stayed in one of the rooms with his wife Dora in 1924, although I can find no mention of what he thought of his visit to this most dramatic of English resorts. North Walk Hill passes between the graveyard and the hotel and leads to the zig-zag path that takes us back down to Lynmouth - or, of course, you can take the famous funicular railway which I have always thought must have been the nearest things the Victorians ever experienced to flying in a helicopter. It both takes off and descends vertically, and is a grand and spectacular way of admiring the vast, vertiginous panorama of Lynmouth Bay. Visitor Information: For more information on The Crown at Lynton visit: www.thecrownlynton.co.uk Rooms start from: £90 per night (room only), based on two sharing a petite double room. Frequently Asked Questions Why are Lynton and Lynmouth called 'Little Switzerland'? The nickname was coined in the late 19th century by tourism marketers to describe the area's dramatic, vertical landscape, steep gorges, and Alpine-style beauty. The label originally grew out of the deep appreciation early Romantic poets like Wordsworth and Coleridge had for the rugged, vertiginous Exmoor coast. What is the difference between Lynton and Lynmouth? While they are closely linked twin communities, they sit at completely different elevations. Lynmouth sits right at sea level along the shoreline where the Lyn River meets the sea. Lynton sits perched directly above it, roughly 400 feet up on a dramatic cliff shelf. How do you travel between Lynton and Lynmouth? Visitors can walk between the two towns using a steep, scenic zig-zag cliff path. Alternatively, you can ride the famous historic water-powered funicular Cliff Railway, which travels vertically up and down the cliffside, offering sweeping views of Lynmouth Bay. What is the Valley of Rocks and how do you get there? The Valley of Rocks is a dramatic, dry river valley running parallel to the coast just west of Lynton. It is famous for its striking geology, wild goats, and craggy rock formations like Castle Rock. It can be reached via a spectacular paved cliffpath that walks out from just to the right of Lynton Town Hall. Who funded the Lynton Town Hall and what is its literary connection? Lynton Town Hall was funded by the wealthy publisher Sir George Newnes and was officially opened by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on August 15, 1900. Because Newnes made a significant portion of his fortune publishing the famous Sherlock Holmes stories in The Strand Magazine, locals often joke that Sherlock Holmes indirectly paid for the building. Where can you see Mick Cawston’s artwork in Lynton? A wonderful collection of original paintings and sketches by the late rural artist Mick Cawston is on permanent display inside The Crown pub in Lynton. Several of his large countryside and animal scenes were painted directly onto the pub's bar walls, and the inn's recent major refurbishment was carefully designed to protect and highlight them.

Travel memories fade faster than most people expect. Photos buried in cloud storage rarely get revisited. Tickets fade. Maps tear. Digital files become disorganised across devices. The best approach is to build a preservation system while memories are still fresh. Combining digital organisation with physical keepsakes creates a collection that remains meaningful years later. Organize Your Travel Archive First Start by sorting every photo after each trip. Create folders by destination and date. Remove duplicates immediately. Rename albums with descriptive titles instead of generic file names. According to a Mixbook survey, nearly half of Americans have more than 1,000 photos stored on their phones, and over one in five feel overwhelmed by the volume. Instead of letting those images disappear into a camera roll, curate them into professionally printed photo books. Printed collections provide context, encourage regular viewing, and reduce the chance of important memories being forgotten. Preserve More Than Photos A memorable trip includes far more than pictures. Save supporting items that help recreate the experience. Consider preserving: Boarding passes Museum tickets Transit maps Restaurant business cards Local receipts Event wristbands Small brochures These objects document places, prices, and experiences that photos alone often miss. Add Context Through Metadata Professional photographers rarely rely on images alone. Metadata improves long term organisation and retrieval. Include details such as: GPS location Date and time Weather conditions Camera settings Names of companions Local restaurants visited Historical notes This information transforms a collection of images into a searchable travel archive. Years later, it becomes much easier to reconstruct an itinerary or revisit favourite locations. Create Everyday Reminders Large albums are valuable, but smaller keepsakes keep travel memories visible every day. Items used regularly trigger memory recall far more often than objects stored in a drawer. A simple souvenir attached to your keys or backpack keeps a destination present in daily life. Many travellers personalise custom keychains using destination names, coordinates, skyline illustrations, or favourite travel photos. Compact keepsakes require little storage while remaining practical. Balance Digital and Physical Storage Digital storage should never exist as a single copy. Follow the 3-2-1 backup strategy used in digital preservation: Three copies of every file Two different storage media One offsite backup For example, store photos on your computer, an external drive, and a secure cloud platform. Physical keepsakes should also be protected from humidity, sunlight, and temperature fluctuations using archival quality containers. Build One Story Instead of Thousands of Images Many travellers take thousands of photos without creating a narrative. Select images that answer simple questions: Where did the journey begin? What local experiences stood out? Which meals defined the destination? What unexpected moments happened? How did the trip end? Limiting each destination to a carefully selected collection often creates a stronger record than storing every image taken. Captions also matter. Recording the reason a photo was taken often becomes more valuable than the image itself. Keep Travel Memories Accessible Preservation is not only about storage. It is about retrieval. Schedule time once or twice each year to revisit previous trips. Update missing captions. Replace damaged storage media. Verify cloud backups. Scan paper documents before they deteriorate. Physical albums deserve the same attention. Store them vertically in cool, dry environments using acid free materials to reduce long term degradation. A travel archive should continue growing without becoming difficult to manage. Document the Small Details The most memorable parts of a journey are often the smallest ones. A handwritten menu from a family restaurant, a local train ticket, or a receipt from a neighbourhood café can capture details that photographs overlook. These items provide context that helps recreate the atmosphere of a destination years later. Consider scanning fragile paper souvenirs before storing them. Save the digital copies in the same folder as your travel photos and label them consistently. This creates a complete archive where every document, image, and note can be located quickly. Voice memos are another valuable addition. Recording short reflections at the end of each day preserves thoughts that are easy to forget once the trip ends. Include observations about local culture, weather, conversations, and unexpected discoveries. When combined with photographs and physical keepsakes, these personal records create a richer timeline that tells the full story of each journey instead of presenting only visual highlights. Make Every Journey Part of Your Story The value of travel memories increases over time when they remain organised and accessible. A structured archive combines photographs, printed collections, personal notes, and meaningful souvenirs into a complete record of each destination. Rather than allowing experiences to disappear into digital storage, preserve them with intention. Years later, those carefully organised keepsakes will provide a far richer reminder of where you have been, what you learned, and the moments that made every journey worth taking.

Why Most Packing Lists Fail Adventure Travellers Generic packing lists don't work for adventure trips. A beach vacation list assumes flat terrain and mild weather. Adventure travel assumes neither. You need gear that survives temperature swings, rough handling, and multiple activities in a single day. The goal isn't packing more. It's packing smarter. Build a Layering System, Not an Outfit Rotation Skip the idea of daily outfits. Build a layering system instead. Base layers manage moisture. Mid layers trap heat. Outer layers block wind and rain. This system lets you adjust to conditions without carrying five jacket options. Durability matters as much as warmth. Cotton fails fast on the trail. It soaks up sweat and takes hours to dry. Synthetic blends or reinforced fabrics hold up better under repeated stress. This is where pant choice actually matters. A pair of tactical jeans gives you rugged construction with stretch panels built for movement, which matters more than people expect once you're climbing over rocks or squatting to set up a tent. Here's what a solid layering kit usually includes: Moisture-wicking base layer top and bottom One insulating mid layer, fleece or synthetic fill A waterproof or wind-resistant shell Reinforced pants with articulated knees A lightweight backup layer for temperature drops at altitude Footwear Is Where People Overpack or Underpack Footwear decisions cause more packing mistakes than anything else. People either bring one pair and regret it, or bring four pairs they never use. The fix is matching footwear to terrain, not to outfits. For most adventure trips, two pairs cover almost everything. One rugged hiking boot with ankle support handles uneven ground. One lightweight trail shoe or sandal handles camp downtime and water crossings. Break in boots before the trip. New boots on day one of a multi-day hike is a common and avoidable mistake. Pack by Activity, Not by Day Forget packing day by day. Pack by activity instead. Group items by what you'll actually be doing: hiking, water sports, cold-weather stretches, downtime. This makes gear easier to find and reduces the temptation to overpack "just in case" items. Compression cubes help here. Assign one cube per activity category. This keeps wet gear separate from dry gear and stops your bag from becoming a single unsorted pile by day three. Adventure trips also tend to run longer and cost more than people plan for. The average adventure trip lasts around eight nights, with a median cost near $3,000 for that stretch, according to recent industry data on adventure tourism spending patterns. That length matters for packing. Gear needs to survive repeated use, not just a single weekend outing. Weather Research Changes Your Whole List Check historical weather data for your destination, not just the forecast. Mountain regions can swing 30 degrees between morning and afternoon. Coastal adventure spots bring humidity that changes how fabrics perform. This research should happen before you pack, not after you arrive and realise your gear doesn't match reality. A few things worth confirming before you finalise your bag: Average high and low temperatures for each day of your trip Rainfall probability and typical storm patterns Altitude changes if hiking or trekking is involved Water temperature if swimming or diving is planned Don't Forget Recovery and Downtime Gear Adventure trips aren't nonstop activity. Rest days and evening downtime need their own gear consideration. This is often the most overlooked category. People pack for the hike and forget what they'll wear at the lodge or during a half-day break between activities. If your trip includes any racket sports, a stop at a resort court, or an evening pickup game, pack something breathable and quick-drying rather than cotton. A custom padel jersey works well here because it's built for lateral movement and heat management, and it doubles as a decent casual layer if you strip the extra padding gear off. Small Essentials That Make a Big Difference The smallest items in your backpack often become the most valuable once you're on the trail. A compact first-aid kit, portable power bank, headlamp, reusable water bottle, and multi-tool can solve unexpected problems without taking up much space. Keep important documents, identification, travel insurance details, and emergency contacts in a waterproof pouch or digital backup. It's also worth packing a few resealable bags for storing wet clothing, protecting electronics, or organising snacks. These lightweight essentials improve convenience, help you stay prepared for changing conditions, and reduce stress when plans don't go exactly as expected. Final Check Before You Zip the Bag Run through your bag one more time before departure. Confirm every item has a purpose tied to a specific activity or condition on your itinerary. If something doesn't have a clear use case, leave it out. Adventure packing rewards discipline, not volume. The best adventure travellers pack the same core system every time and only swap specific items based on climate and activity. That consistency saves time, weight, and stress, and it means you spend less time managing gear and more time actually on the trip.

An atmospheric West Country mystery by veteran journalist Martin Hesp The "Sherlock and Watson" of West Country Journalism: Pair a grizzled, world-weary old-school reporter with a brilliant, tech-savvy young press photographer, set them loose on the rugged Atlantic coast of far West Cornwall, and watch a classic investigative dynamic unfold. About the Book Set in 2002—a transitional era when digital photography was just beginning to shake up local newsrooms—The Cornish Snapper is a fast-paced, evocative crime novel that is equal parts page-turning mystery and love letter to the vanishing world of regional journalism. Newlyn Harbour where the novel begins When a beam trawler Mavis Tregony limps into Newlyn Harbour under the pre-dawn arc lights with two jagged holes punched into her bow, it is flagged as a minor accident. But to Thomas Hamilton—an award-winning, 58-year-old freelance crime correspondent with no pension plan and a habit of rising late—the scene tells a different story. The heavy police presence on the fish-quay points to something far more sinister: the explosive escalation of a bitter, long-running feud between the rival Tregony and Polkerris fishing clans. With a bloodied pick-up truck found abandoned on a lonely stretch of moorland between Penzance and St Ives, and no body in sight, Hamilton smells a major story. Alongside talented young press photographer Veryan Lammoran—who uses her sharp eye and early digital camera gear to capture details the police miss—the duo set out to unravel a tangled web of maritime secrets, ancient family rivalries, and rotten granite. Character Dynamic: Hamilton & Lammoran Author Martin Hesp, a 40-year veteran of WestCountry newspapers, masterfully builds a classic, puzzle-solving partnership that readers of traditional mystery fiction will love: Thomas Hamilton, the reporter in The Cornish Snapper ● Thomas Hamilton (The "Dr. Watson"): The seasoned, cynical, and highly proficient old scribe. Semi-retired to a quiet, creek-side cottage on the River Fal estuary, Thomas is a traditionalist who navigates the waters in a gaff-rigged wooden boat and a small rowing boat. He has the reporter's instinct for human nature but is increasingly feeling the pressures of a changing media landscape. ● Veryan Lammoran (The "Sherlock Holmes"): A sharp, modern, and highly talented young press photographer. It is Veryan’s meticulous attention to visual detail, her mastery of early digital zoom lenses, and her sharp observation of the physical evidence that repeatedly cracks open the secrets that others overlook. Perfect For Fans Of... Perfect For Fans Of... ⚓ Atmospheric Settings Rich, evocative descriptions of the raw Atlantic coast, the bleak moors of West Penwith, Newlyn Harbour fish market, the quiet, muddy creeks of southern Cornwall, and coastal havens like St Ives, Mousehole, and Porthgwarra. 🕵️‍♂️ Classic Detective Duos A brilliant, modern "Holmes and Watson" partnership working within the fast-paced, deadline-driven pressures of regional newspaper journalism. ⛵ Maritime & Coastal Intrigue Traditional gaff-rigged sailing boats, competitive fishing fleets, muddy estuary hideaways, and the tight-knit, secretive world of West Country harbour towns. TO SEE OUR OTHER POSTS ABOUT CORNWALL, CLICK HERE What Readers Say About The Cornish Snapper "A wonderfully evocative and genuine slice of Cornwall. Hesp avoids the over-sanitised, gift-shop postcard tropes to deliver an authentic, gritty, and atmospheric mystery where the rugged landscape itself is a living character." Where to Buy Start your journey into the Far West today. The Cornish Snapper: The Granite Mystery is published by Kingsdown Books and is available in bookshops and on Amazon KDP in Kindle and Paperback formats. 👉 Get your copy of The Cornish Snapper here

Roadwater Station, West Somerset, back in the day How about this for an amazing view of Roadwater Station? Doesn’t look like that any more - as many people who live in the village will tell you - including me. An old friend of mine lives in the attractive little house that was made out of the old station - and another friend lives in the cottage just behind. IF YOU ENJOY THIS POST CHECK OUT OUR OTHER EXMOOR ARTICLES HERE Roadwater's Role on the Old Mineral Line I found the old photo today in my later father’s filing cabinets - although goodness knows where he got it from. The Mineral Line went out of business way way back. Before the lockdown a friend asked me to tell him all about the old railway that used to run through the valley where I live - and we ended up climbing over 1000 feet so his request at least helped burn off some of the calories we’d taken on board during a couple of barbecues. I wanted to show him the winding house that has recently been saved from further dereliction by the Exmoor National Park Authority The "Mineral Line" valley in the Brendon Hills, Somerset The Iron Road Through the Brendon Hills This place was once the scene of much frenetic activity. Trucks full of heavy iron ore would be placed on the down-line while, several hundred feet below – down a three-quarter-mile-long incline - lighter empty trucks would be collected at Comberow on the up-line. With the help of a stationary steam engine in the winding house, the trucks would be shuttled up and down – the full ones being hauled off to the seaport at Watchet where the iron ore was shipped. The entire 13 mile line represented a fantastic feat of engineering, which is sort of sad seeing that it only enjoyed a comparatively short period of use. The massive iron drums which once turned in the winding house only began to revolve in 1860 – and by 1882-3 the Brendon Hill iron mines closed. Remarkably the railway held on, with various levels of service, for another three decades. Having been closed in 1898 it was reactivated in 1907 by optimistic but doomed entrepreneurs who hoped to reopen the mines – and its life was further extended by an Australian company which leased a section in order to demonstrate a revolutionary new system of train control. The West Somerset Mineral Line as it is today It’s all fascinating stuff, well recorded in an excellent book by Roger Sellick. But I at least have reason to be pleased it closed - there was no lane to my cottage before the railway came and after the line was torn up the locals eventually paved the road up the valley. Exploring the West Somerset Mineral Railway: FAQ (2026) What was the West Somerset Mineral Railway? Opened in the late 1850s, this remarkable industrial railway was built to carry iron ore from the mines high in the Brendon Hills down to the port of Watchet. From there, the ore was shipped across the Bristol Channel to the ironworks in Newport, South Wales. The line closed in 1898 once the mines ceased regular operations. Where was Roadwater Station and what remains today? Roadwater was a key intermediate station along the valley section of the line. The Station House: The original stone station building still stands in the village and has been preserved as a private residence. The Route: While much of the old trackbed is on private land, several public footpaths follow adjacent to the line, offering beautiful, quiet woodland walking through the valley. High up on the old incline of the West Somerset Mineral Line today Can you walk the old Mineral Line? Yes! A popular, family-friendly section of the trackbed has been cleared as a public permissive path. The trail runs between Roadwater and Washford, offering a flat, easy-to-follow walk through the peaceful Washford Valley. It is perfect for spotting local wildlife and imagining the steam engines that once rattled through the trees. What was the famous "Incline"? Further up the line, past Roadwater, lies the engineering marvel of the railway: the Combe Row Incline. This was a massive, steep, cable-operated gravity plane that lifted the wagons 340 meters (1,100 feet) up the sheer face of the Brendon Hills. The remains of the incline and the old winding house can still be visited via public rights of way near Gupworthy.

My old friend, the poet James Crowden phoned me this morning to talk about a hike we once did with a friend in West Dorset. And his call reminded of an earlier walk the two of us did together crossing the amazing series of ridges that run down through the same area from Beaminster to Lyme Regis with poetess Catherine Simmonds. I even made a video of the walk all those years ago which you can see here, although you must please forgive the quality - digital cameras weren’t what they are today…. It was one of the best walks I did in 20 long years of walks writing for the newspaper. A journey that took me out of myself - out of my journalistic world. A golden journey that, for the best part of a day had me walking alongside poets living and dead and sharing the heady, pungent, stimulating, inspiring and energising world in which such people live. Walking the Spine of the Dorset Countryside For that is exactly what the best kind of journeys should do: remove you, albeit fleetingly, from your own sphere and introduce you to another so that you can return refreshed, if not a little dazed, by the shock of the new. This journey included wild-eyed pictures created by the likes of Mervyn Peake and Gustav Dore, charming men in charming cottages adorned by 12 foot hollyhocks, the worried daughter of a 105 year old, huge hills, sweeping vales, the worried eloquence of a highly intelligent farmer, a pub where they eat raw nettles, a poetry reading in an altitudinous meadow, jungle-like woodlands, a fisherman who lives in a Le Corbusier house, a poetess having her fingers sucked by 25 rabid mullet, and four freshly caught mackerel for me to take home and eat, along with a Bath-chap. Not that I had much appetite for anything after consuming that lot. I went home stuffed to the brim thinking my 18-mile sojourn could fill a book rather than a page or two of a newspaper. Our ridge walk ended in Lyme Regis It was all the doing of James Crowden who this website has mentioned before. Historian and writer, and one of the finest poets to presently haunt this peninsula. For some time this denizen of the Somerset-Dorset border had been sending emails inviting me to walk the beautiful ridge-ways that strut across the roof of West Dorset. I had the feeling there was something militarily efficient in the way the poet was preparing for the day (“My father will convey us to Beaminster in time for the museum to open and then be in position to collect us at Lyme”) and so looked him up on Google only to find he had indeed been in the army. I can’t help but suspect the Forces have rarely spawned such an unusual and brilliant product. Here’s how James’ website sums up his extraordinary career: “Born in Plymouth in 1954, he was raised on the western edge of Dartmoor. In 1972 he joined the army and served in Cyprus travelling widely in Eastern Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan and north west India. In 1976-77 he spent a winter on the northern side of the Himalaya, in the remote Zangskar Valley in Ladakh. “It was from this experience that he developed a lifelong interest in agriculture and Buddhism…” After describing his various degrees and academic accolades, the site then goes on: “For the last 20 years James has worked in North Dorset and South Somerset as a shepherd, sheep shearer, cider maker and forester. The choice of manual work was deliberate and gave him a deeper understanding of the landscape.” High altitude Views and Prehistoric Landscapes You get the feeling that an 18 mile walk with such a person is guaranteed to be far more than a journey from a-to-b. James may now have given up working on the land, but he certainly knows a lot about it - and like anyone who has travailed in such a way he has an understanding of the countryside which is both universal and exacting. Both minutiae and sweeping panoramas are his canvases, and as for the human content of a landscape you get the feeling there is no person high-born or low, bright or dull, quick or slow, who can avoid - or wish to avoid - his friendliness and interest. And so it was with this polymath that I entered the picture perfect English town of Beaminster while having an in-depth conversation with his fascinating father Guy (who sadly passed away some years ago) about that little known cut of meat, the Bath-chap. The plan was to take a turn around Beaminster Museum’s new summer exhibition in order to get us in the mood for what was going to be a long walk on the hottest day of the year. It’s called “The Ancient Mariner Coleridge Exhibition and the Beaminster Connection” - entry £1 - worth every penny because there’s a room full of fine prints by the likes of the artists mentioned above who, over the years, have provided extraordinary illustrations for that extraordinary poem. After the viewing it was upwards and onwards along the Wessex Ridgeway (after we’d met the man who grows giant hollyhocks) in the intense heat of one of the hottest days this summer. The temperature made climbing the near vertical sides of Gerrard’s Hill an act of mad- dogs-and-Englishman proportions, but the one thing about this long hike to Lyme Regis is that once you are up, you tend to stay pretty much up. It’s not called a ridgeway for nothing. Lambert's Castle Hill, West Dorset High above the attractive village of Stoke Abbott we traversed – a village to which James had earlier diverted his father’s car in order to show me the porch of an ancient church where once a vicar called William Crowe had written a few remarkable some lines that were later to influence William Wordsworth. It was here, by the way, that he spoke to the daughter of a local 105-year-old retired farm worker who was feeling poorly. Past Chart Knolle and Waddon Hill we reached wooded Lewesdon Hill and Burstock Down and this in turn took us around Cockpit Hill to the Pilsdon Pen. At 277 metres this is believed to be the highest place in the county – though James tells me there are debates over the claim. It’ll do me though – the strange flat-topped eminence offers views over half of southern England. It was on the steep slopes of this mountain that we came across a beautiful field gate – and I mean beautiful – it was created by a talented carpenter called Karen Hansen, of Evershot, and is one of a collection of works of art commissioned to adorn various bits of the ridgeway. It is known as the “Wordsworth Gate” because William and Dorothy Wordsworth first set up house together as brother and sister just a mile away in a big old pile called Racedown Lodge – a fact that is central to the story of this journey. Lewesdon Hill, When James was writer in residence for the ridgeway he was commissioned to write a number of poems which he later collated into a book called Dorset Footsteps, and it was from this that he read the following words as we stood at the gate. “She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; And humble cares, And delicate fears Maintained a saving intercourse With my true self, preserved me still. A poet.” Walking west down the hill James explained that while the Quantocks and the Lake District get all the glory when it comes to being the locations where the Romantic Poets were… well, romantic – it was West Dorset that saw the very first glimmerings of the ethos and resultant work that was to come. “It was here that Wordsworth and Samuel Coleridge dallied in the month of June 1797,” writes James in the introduction to his book. “A truly historic and exciting meeting of minds and words… It was here in West Dorset that they first struck up their real friendship and kindled their lifelong obsession with the countryside. An obsession which altered the course of poetry and in many ways influenced the way in which we view the landscape today. The landscape around Pilsdon Pen has much to answer for.” Hesp at Lambert's Castle Hill We walked on down the hill to meet a fascinating local farmer called Ross Dickinson who’s given up dairy cows to pursue his interest in archaeology - and grab a lift the two miles to the Bottle Inn (“home of the World Nettle Eating Championships” - I kid you not). It was here that I was to hear more of this link with the Romantic Poets. It was told me by a tall and elegant poetess called Catherine Simmonds who was to join us on the rest of the walk and who has done a great deal of work and research regarding the Wordsworths’ two year stay in Dorset. Her book We Have Heard Ravens is a collection of thought-provoking poems drawn from Dorothy Wordsworth’s journals - and this is what Catherine told me as we resumed our big walk across the hills to the sea. “Despite her great attachment to her native Cumbria, where she lived the greater part of her life - 'Racedown', Dorothy once wrote, 'is the place dearest to any recollections upon the whole surface of the island; it was the first home I had.' “They didn't have a great deal of money at the time,” Catherine added. “They grew vegetables for themselves in the kitchen garden - William wrote to a friend: 'I have been lately living upon the air and the essence of carrots, cabbages, turnips and other esculent vegetables not excluding parsley’.” By now we had reached the ramparts of Lambert’s Castle Hill, yet another high point of the walk offering fabulous views of glorious tree studded Marshwood Vale and the distant sea. For me, the journey had by this point become a kind of dreamy reverie the likes of which Dorothy and William Wordsworth probably enjoyed with Samuel Taylor Coleridge when he joined them at Racedown for brief holiday and first discovered the huge delights of walking in the countryside. On the edge of Lewesdon Hill, West Dorset There was nothing for it high on Lambert’s Castle Hill but that my two poet pals should read the whole of the Scribes Meet poem from James’ collection (a performance you can hear on the WMN’s website). I was glad the friendly ex-farmer archaeologist arrived in the hot altitudinous meadow to hear it because he seemed most moved – moved enough, indeed, to offer us a lift to the nearest cider-house. This establishment was closed, which was probably a good thing. Set deep in a secret valley somewhere near Monkton Wyld, the cider press seemed to offer the promise of some long lost rural idyll – it was all so beautiful that I do believe I’d still be there had the golden juice been available. Instead we looked around the Marie Celeste-ish farm buildings and orchard where working clothes like overalls were drying in the hot breeze – then persuaded the ex-farmer archaeologist to drive us a mile or so to yet another ridge. This time it was a watershed that introduced us to an almost ludicrously lush and verdant that led south and seawards on Shank’s Pony all the way to Lyme. Which is where my old friend Richard Austin was waiting to photograph us having purloined four fresh mackerel for me from Harry May, a friendly fisherman who pointed to a remarkable Le Corbusier style house by the harbour-side which, he said, had eventually become his home long after half the hill had slipped and moved towards the sea. Max Gollop, owner of the Cobb’s aquarium, introduced Catherine to his mad finger-sucking mullet, we licked ice-creams, took photos, ate cockles - and last of all those two poets couldn’t resist one last reading of one of James’s double-handed works, delivered under the screech of gulls… “Tea shops and ice cream - crab sandwiches and crazy golf The French Lieutenant’s Woman - running her own Patisserie Marine defences, imported sand - crumpet, fish and chip wrappers Dust jackets, waves of tourists - lapping the curved shore…” Upon which word James’ father Guy arrived and handed me that rarest cut of meat of them all – the aforementioned Bath-chap. Completing the Ridgeway Trail Part 3: Up-to-Date FAQ Section Place this practical guide at the bottom of the article to give hikers the exact logistics they need to plan the walk. The South Dorset Ridgeway: Walk Planner & FAQ (2026) What is the South Dorset Ridgeway? The South Dorset Ridgeway is an ancient, elevated trail that forms part of the South West Coast Path. Often described as a "prehistoric highway," the ridge is littered with ancient burial mounds (barrows), stone circles, and hillforts, offering panoramic inland views of the Dorset Downs alongside dramatic vistas of the Jurassic Coast. How long is the walk and where does it start? Distance: The main stretch of the Ridgeway trail runs for approximately 17 miles (27 km). Route: It traditionally runs from West Bexington in the west to Osmington Mills in the east. Terrain: It is a hilly, undulating walk with several steep climbs up onto the chalk downs. Good hiking boots and a reasonable level of fitness are essential. How do I navigate the trail? Because the Ridgeway is an official inland alternative to the coastal stretch of the South West Coast Path, it is well-signed with the familiar acorn symbol alongside the South Dorset Ridgeway name. However, a reliable OS map (Explorer OL15) or a GPS walking app is highly recommended for keeping track of the ancient rights-of-way across the high downs. Are there places to stop for food and drink? On the ridge itself, facilities are practically non-existent. You are walking through high pasture and ancient downs, so you must pack plenty of water and a picnic. However, you can find excellent West Country pubs at either end of the trail: The Club House at West Bexington or nearby country pubs in Abbotsbury. The historic Smugglers Inn at Osmington Mills, which makes for the perfect celebratory pint at the end of the journey. Is the trail dog-friendly? Yes, but with caution. Much of the high ridge path passes through active farmland where sheep and cattle graze. Dogs must be kept on a short lead around livestock, and hikers should watch out for nesting birds on the open downs during spring and summer.

How Farmers Can Solve Climate Change Through Soil Health If farmers all around the world looked after their soils better it would go a long, long way to solving our climate-change problems. It wasn’t a meteorologist or climate scientist who told me that, it was a Devon farmer. If you get a bunch of passionate cheesemakers together, you are pretty much bound to witness a conversation that will go a long way beyond milk and its products. People who farm specially in a way that allows them or their colleagues to make artisan cheeses - and also the people who sell such choice dairy items - tend to be passionate and driven. Although their talk will centre on milk and cheese, it will also drift to the big bad world that surrounds their cows, curds, shops and farms. The Ancient Art of West Country Cheddar Because ‘slow food’ items like artisan cheeses tend to embody an entire lifestyle and belief system. There’s no room for shortcuts or industrial quick-fixes. You must work with nature and respect the way it can change the flavour and quality of the milk and therefore the products you hope to produce. There’s no hurrying it. There’s no blasting it with chemicals to suit your profit and loss account. And there’s no cut-price version which can be sold in big supermarkets under two-for-the-price-of-one offers or any other discounted promotions - a feature of the retail world nowadays which gets the goat of artisan cheesemakers because they believe it sells a cheap untruth to their entire industry. These are things you learn when you gather a group of such people together - something I realised the other day when my colleague and friend Graham Harvey asked if I’d host a series of podcasts he’s producing in his perennial bid to promote a more considered way of farming and producing food. With my other old friend James Crowden, we sat down at the marvellous Pebblebed’s Cellar in Topsham with Devon farmer and cheesemaker Mary Quicke and also Garry and Elise Jungenheim of Country Cheeses, which is a remarkable business that has outlets in Tavistock, Totnes and Topsham. It was Mary who told us about the way in which well nurtured soils could help with climate change… “Humans control 38 per cent of the global land area as farming. Of that probably we control (the upper) 30 centimetres - and if you were to add just one percent of organic matter across the globe that would take 100 parts per million of carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. And we are worried about 200! “If you said to any farmer, ‘This is what we want you to do - put one per cent more organic matter into your soil’ - they would know how to do it. “But actually it’s almost like the whole carbon discussion has been take over by industrial and capitalist solutions,” sighed Mary, whose cows graze outdoors for most of the year, ensuring that plenty of organic matter is being fed back to the soil. “Farmers are being seen as part of the problem, not part of the solution. It’s a bit embarrassing for high flown government scientists to go out and ask people in the fields to go and do what they know how to do.” When the rest of us around the table showed amazement that just a small tweaking of farming and soil nurturing techniques could actually halve the problems behind climate change. Mary said: “It is true. I asked a climate-change scientist - are these numbers correct? He said they were. I asked, why aren’t farmers being asked?” She was preaching to the converted with Graham Harvey, who has been writing about the importance of healthy fertile soils for years. And the Jungenheims said they are keen to tell this story to customers in their shops. The Art and Alchemy of Devon Artisan Cheese Elise said: “It is really important to paint a picture to our customers. We’ve seen such a change - we started 30 years ago and it was hard. It was just when people were starting to want to know more about their food - and that has grown and grown - and is a delight now. We get families in with their children - and they are all so interested. Garry had said earlier: “We feel blessed to be in the cheese industry - artisan cheesemakers are sound people and they are people who care about humanity. And it is always good talking about people you know and you respect. For us to talk about the cheesemakers is not a hardship - you are wanting the customer to know about this particular food. You are giving the information because you really want to.” Mary had commented: “Given milk is so yummy, why would you bother preserving it? In the old days, cows would just be milked in the summer and this is how you got protein through to the winter. All I do is add bugs to ferment the lactose - I add some rennet and do some stuff - and out of those tiny processes all the amazing cheeses arise. It’s extraordinary.” “It is a way of preserving the milk,” agreed James “Even in Ovid there are accounts of shepherds with sieves getting out the curd. I’ve seen it happen in the Hindu Kush - nomads putting the milk in a goat’s skin and churning it for hours until they’re getting the curd and using that as cheese. Also in the Himalayas, I have seen them drying it out on rocks while stopping ravens getting it. Once it’s dried it’s like biltong - and that’s a way of preserving it. It is how cheese evolved - how you preserve the flavours and the protein to get you through the hungry gap.” How Changing Weather Patterns Affect the Pasture By now Mary was in her stride… “There are people going back to old recipes - people who are starting to ferment the milk in the way they used to with natural fermentations. It’s such a vital and exciting world. A very creative world. Especially if you look at America. They are going at it like a bull a china shop. When I first judged cheeses there nine years ago it was a bit boring, but last year there were so many exiting world class cheeses. Because milk is such a flexible thing - you can do the most amazing things with it.” Garry joined in: “If you eat something, part of the joy should be the imagination that goes with it. Imagining this slab of whatever it is - imagining that it has come from a farm and people have actually put love and care and attention - artistry and alchemy - into the product… Suddenly it is marvellous. They are smelling it - looking at it. “I want people to pick up cheese and rub it in their fingers,” he went on. “Because cheese is really sensual and you are losing out if you are just popping it in your mouth. People are getting really excited about what happens naturally - taking this substance on a little journey and nudging it to be something that is edible in a really lovely way.” The Academy of Cheese and the Future of Knowledgeable Eating At this point Mary was able to get in her news about the creation of the Academy of Cheese: “People sell cheese with passion, but if we can sell cheese with knowledge - knowledge plus passion is inspiration. So we have created The Academy of Cheese - based partly on an American model - partly on a UK method of the sommelier programme ending up with a master of wine. “It is very much based on tasting. Level One is 25 cheeses. Level Two is 100 in total… going up to Level Four, which will be our Master of Cheese. We’ve already had nearly 1000 people take Level One. You can take it on the internet and we’ve had people all over the world. “But we have 10 training partners like Paxton and Whitfield who are training consumers as well as professionals. Other people do chefs - some doing cheesemakers or retailers. The idea is that we start creating this knowledgeable group of people who can go out and sell cheese.” If you are interested in cheese check out https://www.quickes.co.uk/pages/academy-of-cheese and also watch out for Garry and Elise’s amazing Tavistock Real Cheese Fair which is a “ homage to artisan cheese and the artists who make it” staged in the town on the weekend of Saturday and Sunday 1o-11 August. Visit www.countrycheeses.co.uk to find out more. From the Hindu Kush to Topsham: A Brief History of Cheese Perhaps as early as 7000 BC the hunters who were rapidly becoming became graziers, and realised that milk could solidify. By evening something happened to the milk they took out in their calf-stomach bags. They weren’t to realise there was a chemical reaction taking place between the milk and rennet, but it worked. Later thistle flowers and green fig juice were used by Romans as rennet and soon ripening techniques were spreading throughout Europe. The French word “fromage” has been used since 1180 when it replaced “formage” - from the slang latin “formaticus” or “made in a mould”. In 1267, in the Doubs region, an early form of dairy cooperative produced the first big wheels of cheese (Beaufort, Emmental, Comté). By the 19th century, a huge dairy industry was thriving in France, and at the beginning of the 20th century, the first large factory opened manufacturing cheese. In 1953, the Stresa Convention, ratified by France, Italy, Swiss, Austria, Scandinavia and Holland protected certain national sorts of cheese like Parmesan, Roquefort, Gorgonzola from counterfeiting. We didn’t join the club, which is why our famous cheddar is now made anywhere from Canada to Australia. Sustainable Farming & Quicke's Cheddar: FAQ (2026) What makes Quicke’s Cheddar unique? Located in Newton St Cyres, Devon, the Quicke family has been farming the same land for fourteen generations. Their award-winning cheese is still crafted using traditional methods: it is handmade, wrapped in cotton cloth to breathe, and matured slowly in their cheese stores for up to 24 months. How does climate change specifically impact traditional cheesemaking? Artisan cheesemaking relies on the perfect balance of nature, beginning in the soil: Grass Composition: Extreme wet periods or prolonged summer droughts alter the varieties of grasses and herbs that grow in the pasture. This changes the cows' diet and, ultimately, the subtle, complex flavor profile of the raw milk. Humidity & Temperature: Traditional clothbound cheeses age in ambient, unconditioned cellars where they interact with natural molds. Shifting seasonal temperatures and humidity levels require cheesemakers to work much harder to maintain the perfect aging environment. What is regenerative farming, and how is Mary Quicke implementing it? Regenerative farming is an agricultural approach that focuses on restoring soil health, capturing carbon, and boosting biodiversity. Mary Quicke has been a leading voice in this movement by: Diverse Swards: Sowing pastures with a complex mix of deep-rooting grasses, chicory, and clover, which are more resilient to dry spells and enrich the soil biology. Rotational Grazing: Allowing pastures time to fully recover between grazing cycles, which promotes deep root growth and traps more carbon in the Devon earth.

You’ve got to play fair - if you mention one Bristol Channel island then you’ve got to do something about the other. I was up on the ridge above our house in the fine weather again today - and this time I was looking across at the isle of Flat Holm - and I recalled visiting the place with my Uncle William several years ago… The boat careered up and down like a rodeo horse, the short steep stubby waves came at us like 10 foot brick walls and the massive currents of the second highest tidefall in the world swirled around like a river in full spate. But it was the warning on the skipper’s electronic navigation screen that rang warning bells. There’s something about the word “whirlpool” that makes you sit up and take notice. “You would see it if it wasn’t for all the waves,” said the captain of the Lewis Alexander. “It can get pretty big. We sailed through it once and it span this boat around.” The Lewis Alexander is not exactly a super-tanker, but it’s big and sturdy enough to carry 45 passengers to and from the island of Flat Holm. And right at that moment I, for one, was very much looking forward to steeping safely ashore on a bit of terra-firma that I’ll admit here and now is not part of the West Country. Sailing to the South of Wales Flat Holm is officially the most southerly bit of Wales – but as it is twin to Somerset’s Steep Holm, and as it is very much part of the Bristol Channel scene and can be spotted from a lengthy section of this region’s coast – it has a rightful place in this series. After all, didn’t it act as a refuge for a bunch of marauding Vikings after they’d been ousted by a group of West Country locals in what must have been one of the region’s proudest ever defensive victories? History has it that a Viking fleet from Brittany - led by two earls, Ohter and Hroald - took refuge on the island following their defeat by the Saxons at Watchet. That’s a story which still goes down well on my native West Somerset coast to this day. So it was a somewhat bitter pill when I discovered I’d have to go all the way to Wales to reach Flat Holm. Our sea journey began in Cardiff Bay and we had to negotiate the great sea-locks that protect to giant new lagoon to reach the real waves. Not that there were many bumpy bits until we’d passed the Victorian pier at Penarth and rounded Lavernock Point. But then… Well, it was as though the old sea-gods of Exmoor’s coast had something to say about one of their minions crossing from the wrong side, so to speak. All hell let loose. But we made it all the same – maybe because the mate of the Lewis Alexander confided that he’d originally been a Watchet man. And the fact that skipper Karl was able to beach the vessel on a surprisingly sheltered shingle strand with great skill. Flat Holm, or Ynys Echni to give it the unpronounceable Welsh name, is a limestone island lying four miles off Lavernock Point, due south of Cardiff – or more relevant to people in West Somerset, seven miles north west of Brean Down. Not surprisingly, being situated plonk in the middle of a busy seaway, the island has a long history, dating at least from the Bronze Age. There have been religious recluses, saints and their disciples, smugglers, farmers, gunnery officers, lighthouse keepers, hotel keepers, the doctors and nurses of a cholera hospital – it was even the founding site of the Bristol Channel Mission, which later became the Mission to Seafarers. Now it is home to a warden and his two helpers, occasional volunteers, occasional campers and work-group members, and gulls. Lots and lots of gulls. Like its sister island already mentioned in this series, Flat Holm is seagull central. Go there at certain times of the year – like now, for instance (he says through gritted teeth) – and you will enjoy the company of gulls. They make a great song and dance about seeing you. They screech, they yell, they even reach for the heavens with joy only to dive down in an attempt to give you a little welcoming peck on the top of the head. Some, rather generously, prefer to offer you the contents of their stomach. “You get used to them,” shrugged Matt Lipton, the island’s warden. “You really do – I don’t take any notice of them at all.” I did, and borrowed a hat. “They are just being good parents,” said Matt. And of course he was right – the lesser black backed and herring gulls have been living on Flat Holm for a good deal longer than humans and they get a bit miffed when you stroll to close to their nests, which they position with no seeming care on the ground just about everywhere. Once the eggs have hatched and the fledglings have gone – which will be soon – you apparently have no problems. Anyway, let’s describe Flat Holm. For a start, it’s not flat. The cliffs at the south-eastern corner of the round-ish isle rise some 160 feet from the swirling waves. It is on this high point that the 90 foot lighthouse stands. There’s been a warning light here for many years - the first one was a simple brazier mounted on a wooden frame. But in 1733 the Society of Merchant Venturers of Bristol claimed it was unreliable and petitioned the authorities to erect a proper lighthouse. Their bid failed, but two years later William Crispe of Bristol submitted a proposal to build one at his own expense. This proposal also failed but negotiations soon resumed in 1736 when 60 soldiers drowned after their vessel shipwrecked off Flat Holm. In just a year the tower was built, and by 1738 it was in operation. The lighthouse was the last signal station in the UK to come out of private ownership - Trinity House finally bought the lease for £15,838.10 in 1822. It was renovated in 1929 to include accommodation for four keepers and was staffed until 1988, when it became fully automated. From what could be described as the island’s summit the ground slopes gently down towards the north and west. And there are the remains of human yesteryear to be found almost every step of the way. Flat Holm’s first human occupants were denizens of the late Bronze Age - more than 1000 years later it became a retreat for Saint Cadoc, who apparently lived on the island as a hermit. His great pal Saint Gildas did the same thing on neighbouring Steep Holm, and legend has it that the two occasionally met up to say a few prayers. After having sailed so close to the whirlpool – which is between the two islands - I imagine they needed all the prayers they could get if they were relying on small leather-clad coracles for their inter-island journeys. Monks, Miners, and Marconi: A Layered History After the saints, came the Anglo-Saxons - who called the island Bradanreolice. “Reolice” is said to come from an Irish word meaning graveyard – adding fuel to the belief that Flat Holm had religious significance as a place of burial to people at the time. Certainly a couple of graves have been found, including one with a Celtic cross. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle records that in 1067, Gytha Thorkelsdóttir, mother of Harold II, the last Anglo-Saxon king of England, stayed on the island before travelling to France after the Norman invasion. Heading in the opposite direction was Lord Robert Fitzhamon - a cousin of William the Conqueror - who formed the Shire of Glamorgan with Cardiff Castle at the centre of his new domain. Flat Holm was made a hereditary property of the Norman Lords of Glamorgan. There’s plenty of archaeological evidence to show that people lived on Flat Holm during these times. Some sandstone roofing tiles and a fragment of a 14th-century glazed ridge tile indicate the possible existence of a substantial medieval building - maybe a chapel. Other records show that the island was farmed. In 1542 King Henry VIII granted the lease to one Edmund Tournor whose family remained on Flat Holm until the end of the 17th century. Like Steep Holm, Flat Holm had long played a cosy host to smugglers. There is even a legend that various secret tunnels were dug around an old mine shaft – certainly I saw what looked to be the ends of a couple of man-made tunnels when we somewhat bumpily circumnavigated the isle. Next came a far more worthy era of island history. John Ashley, a clergyman from Clevedon on the Somerset coast, was ministering to the population of the island when, in 1835, he hit upon the idea of creating a mission to serve seafarers on the hundreds of sailing vessels which regularly used the Bristol Channel. The Bristol Channel Mission would later become the well known national Mission to Seafarers. And talking of sailors, I’ve so far neglected to mention the giant foghorn built in 1906. It was originally powered by a massive engine which gave blasts at two-minute intervals that could be heard by people as far away as Exmoor. The weird looking foghorn still dominates a corner of the isle today. Still on the subject of sailors, we come to the island’s sanatorium – now a ruins surrounded by nettles. It was in 1883 that the steamship Rishanglys left three cholera stricken seamen on the island – it was the sort of inhumane thing skippers did in those days. They had only a canvas tent to be ill in - one of the sailors subsequently died and islanders petitioned for compensation saying they’d lost income from the fact visitors were too frightened to make day trips. They even had difficulty in selling vegetables in Cardiff market. It was obviously a problem and by 1896 an isolation hospital had been built. It is said to be the only isolation hospital sited on a British offshore island. The last patient to die there was a victim of bubonic plague and he was cremated on the island at the end of the 19th century. The sanatorium closed in 1935 and has remained derelict since. Today people go to Flat Holm for fun rather than for medical purposes. The place is a Local Nature Reserve, managed by the Cardiff Council as The Flat Holm Project. The management team operates the Lewis Alexander boat which was purpose-built as the island’s one and only means of transport to and from the mainland. And the project is supported by the Flat Holm Society, a registered charity. While on the island I talked to project manager Natalie Taylor and Matt the warden in one of the converted military buildings. They told me Flat Holm draws around 2000 visitors a year between March and October: “Through the winter we get a few volunteers who help our small team so it is occupied all year round,” said Matt. One of the modern developments is the transfer to greener forms of energy. “We have a diesel generator but we very rarely have to use it – it’s only been on once in the past three months and then only to train volunteer staff,” Matt told me. “The wind turbine charges batteries so that we normally have a supply of at least three days.” “When I was warden out here we used to put generator on two or three hours in the morning then six hours every evening for fridges and freezers,” said Natalie. “Our diesel consumption was huge.” Natalie also told me something of future plans for the island. “We’re planning to try and increase opportunities for birds – we’re looking at more traditional crops we could grow on an arable basis along with some sort of beet that we can feed sheep. We have 92 sheep at the moment - we recently bought some Soay sheep and we've had 22 lambs to add to the population.” “There are plenty of ghost stories and other legends,” said Matt when I asked. “One member of staff won’t even come into this building - there was a soldier who used to stand in that doorway over there.” “There were two generations of Harris family who came from Steep Holm to here to open a hotel,” said Natalie. “It had a skittle alley - everything - a lot of people used to apparently row over for a drink on a Sunday when Wales was ‘dry’. Then there were the Robinsons - father and son - they were well known smugglers and they had a bright red boat, which showed they weren’t particularly scared of the authorities.” I left Natalie and Matt musing over swashbuckling times to go down to the landing beach where I expected to be in for a bit of swashbuckle myself. Fortunately, the tide and wind – though still raging - had done some sort of deal together and the crossing back to Wales was a lot smoother. Later I returned to England having enjoyed what was a fascinating, wonderful and swashbuckling adventure in a foreign country. If you’d like to know more about Flat Holm or find out how to visit the island go to www.flatholmisland.com Flat Holm Visitor Guide & FAQ (2026) If you are planning to cross the water to explore this flat, grassy limestone plateau, the logistics are slightly different from its sister island, Steep Holm. Here is the essential "state of play" for visitors today: How do you get to Flat Holm? Because Flat Holm is managed by Cardiff Council, most passenger vessels depart from the Welsh side of the channel. Main Operators: Bay Island Voyages (departing from Mermaid Quay in Cardiff Bay) and Cardiff Cruises (sailing from Penarth) run regular high-speed RIB trips from March to October. Landing Fee: Note that Cardiff Council charges a £10 cash landing fee per person (collected by the island warden when you step ashore). What is there to see on the island? Despite its small size, Flat Holm is packed with history: The Marconi Connection: This is the historic site where Guglielmo Marconi sent the world's very first wireless radio transmission across open water to Lavernock Point in 1897. The Trinity House Lighthouse: Built in 1737, the striking white lighthouse still stands proud on the island's southern tip. Military Ruins & Cholera Hospital: You can wander among Victorian gun embankments, WWII searchlight posts, and the ruins of the isolated cholera hospital built in the late 19th century. Is there a pub on Flat Holm? Yes! Flat Holm is home to The Gull and Leek, which proudly holds the title of Wales' most southerly pub. It's a fantastic spot to grab a local ale, cider, or hot drink after walking the island. Tip: Both the pub and the island shop prefer cash as backup, as card machines rely on temperamental island Wi-Fi. Can you stay overnight? Unlike Steep Holm, which is strictly day-use only, Flat Holm accommodates overnight adventurers. You can book camping pitches in the farmhouse paddocks or rent out the historic dormitory hostel or glamping pods through the Cardiff Harbour Authority. Are there any restrictions? Because of the massive breeding colonies of lesser black-backed gulls, dogs are strictly forbidden on Flat Holm. There is also no swimming permitted off the island due to the notoriously dangerous, fast-moving currents of the estuary. Part 4: The Flat Holm "Bridge" To link this post to your other island articles and keep readers exploring your site, drop this callout box near the top or bottom of your page: The Sister Isle: Just across the narrow, tide-ripped channel lies Flat Holm's steep, cliff-bound twin. To read about the sheer physical challenge of landing on the English side of this watery boundary, read my story: Steep Holm: Difficult to Reach Even Outside the Lockdown.

Even in normal times there are places which seem just a little too distant. Places which you see in some way then think it impossible that you should ever get to go there. it might be some fantastic foreign location you see on TV - or it could be somewhere much closer that always seems impossibly out of reach. Today on my dog-walk I reached the top of the hill near my house and looked north to the Bristol Channel, which is where I could see Steep Holm looking very distant and very unreachable. The Allure of the Limestone Giant There’s a phrase first coined by Dylan Thomas about a place that’s so remote it’s where gulls go to be lonely. Steep Holm is a bit like that – it is lonely and peaceful in all respects, save for one – it is where lots and lots of gulls go to be sociable, mix with their own kind, breed and generally hang out, busily and noisily. More about Seagull-Central later, the first thing to say about Steep Holm is that it offers lovers of the West Country one of the region’s great adventures. Getting there is an adventure, and somehow being there is like taking part in some kind of ripping yarn featuring the Famous Five. Then, when you leave Steep Holm, a bit of it comes away with you – memories of your island adventure will undoubtedly remain for life. Perhaps it is the kind of Dunkirk Spirit which seems to prevail among the volunteers who run Steep Holm that instils this sense of adventure. It’s maybe the way the island’s indomitable helpers haul great vats of drinking water more than 200 feet up from sea level with the eager promise of putting on the kettle for a “nice cup of tea”, which they produce alongside lashings of homemade cake before going off to take part in archaeological digs or scrub clearance parties. Later you see some of them relaxing with glasses of wine while eating their sandwiches in the old barracks which they’ve helped restore into what passes for the island’s comfy visitor centre. The chairman of the charity that owns and runs the island ambles across to tell you matter-of-factly about the gulls and the number of times he’s had his scalp cut by their razor-sharp beaks when he’s been counting nests. The secretary of the charitable trust joins you in the little exhibition house which passes as the island’s very own museum to tell you quickly and quietly all manner of fascinating facts about the great 48-acre limestone buttress that shoulders its way out of the waves five miles off the Somerset coast. In the near distance a generator “putt-putts” its monosyllabic song like an old pre-war boat, beyond the gulls screech - and far below the violent tides of the second highest tide-fall in the world rip around the island cliffs with all the hiss and rush of a mountain torrent. Somewhere down towards those waves an ancient, long-derelict pub lurks on the edge of a steep woodland, offering the tarry beery memories of the sea-salt stories of yore. The ghost of the dancing wrestling bear which once lived there may still haunt the place. Who drank here and why – is what you wonder when you pass this lonesome place. Not even the dullest of dullards could fail to think of smugglers and pirates - and of the wave-tossed-sailor-Sams and-no-good-boyos of yesteryear’s lawless tide-line. Far above, a rusting Bofors gun is silhouetted as it aims its thin long barrel skywards at gulls it will never shoot - and around it, dotted here and there across the island’s high plateau, great iron canon rest on their massive sides never, ever, to be moved again. Welcome to the region’s biggest fortress – the unsinkable battleship - the mysterious, implacable, immovable, steadfast buttress of an isle that is Steep Holm. Welcome to the island of nightmares and dreams. That, at least, has been my own relationship with the place – and I am told the same goes for many a visitor to climb its mighty ramparts. Steep Holm is a thing you see, but never go to. It is a kind of promised land floating out there on the horizon. Somehow you assume that one day you may go there, but probably never do. It has taken me more than half a century to reach its great and fascinating bulk. “We get a lot of people coming over who say that,” commented the founder of the island’s mainland support group called the Steep Holm Shirkers. “They say – we’ve been meaning to come over for years, but have never got around to it until now.” “I worked in Weston-Super-Mare for 40 years and never stepped foot on Steep Holm once during that time despite wanting to - and despite the fact that Weston is where the ferry goes from,” piped in one of Dave’s willing Shirkers. They, by the way, don’t shirk at all – the Shirkers are a 100-strong support army of volunteers who help the 160-member Kenneth Allsop Memorial Trust look after the island it owns. It’s all done on a shoestring, and much of it is hard work – but having a special connection with your very own island seems to attract a pleasant and willing kind of volunteer. “It does get under a lot of people’s skins,” Joan Rendell told me some years ago when she was secretary of the memorial trust (she might still be for all I know). “People come to the island, they like it, then they want to get involved. It’s a process that happened to Joan and her husband Stan way back in 1976. “We were members of the County Archaeological survey - there had been a survey of the island before the war – but during the war such changes were made on Steep Holm it was felt there ought to be another and we were called in. “It went from there – we did the military, the archaeological, the general history - and we just got stuck.” So much so, that the couple have produced a fascinating book on the island called Steep Holm’s Pioneers as well as an illustrated trail guide. Which brings us nicely to Steep Holm’s geography: where it is, how you get to it, and how to enjoy the island when you reach it... Basically, it is part of a spine of limestone that continues along the Mendips and directly offshore of Brean Down – the great needle of a peninsula that divides Bridgwater Bay from the smaller bay at Weston-Super-Mare. This spine continues across the channel to form Steep Holm and neighbouring Flat Holm, which this series will be visiting later in the summer. But, whereas it is reached from Cardiff, the Steep Holm ferry leaves from Weston. Why Landing on Steep Holm is a Tide-Swept Gamble And a pretty tricky crossing it was too back when i last visited. The skipper of the Bristol Queen, a beautiful old Clyde ferry built in 1938 could only take his 100-seater vessel to the island at certain times of the ferocious tide – and even then had to use well-honed skills to bring her bow up on Steep Holm’s one and only beach. For the first timer, the approach can be alarming as she noses her way around massive Tower Rock at the eastern end of the island to avoid the roaring tide-race that swirls just feet out to sea. Even when her bow is safely onto the pebbles, crew have to urge passengers to depart down the gangplank as fact as they can for fear that the vessel will hold fast on the ebb. For the visitor, it’s then a matter of ascending. Up is the only way to go on Steep Holm, which is skirted by high cliffs around all its oval-shaped coast, save for here at the landing beach. It’s difficult to believe but, because of several vandal attacks, the trust now keeps the island locked. A steel door has been mounted across the steps at the top of the beach and this has to be unlocked before visitors can access the zig-zag path that climbs through the steep sycamore wood past the semi derelict old inn. It seems almost unbelievable that this remote hostelry should have ever had any trade at all, but it did. While in the hands of a couple called Fred and Mary Harris in the 1850s it enjoyed quite a reputation according to Stan and Joan’s book. “Their renowned dish of fresh fish washed down with a glass or two of excise-free alcohol became a byword,” says the book. “And excursionists came not only from Weston, but also from Cardiff and Bristol – sometimes arriving by steam-tug.” The place was also frequented by crews awaiting the tide to take them up channel – sailors who would deliver far more in the way of tax free spirits from places like the West Indies than they drank. The story becomes ever more bizarre, with Fred Harris one day swapping his Newfoundland dog for a bear. This creature became a feature of the inn, and once fought with, and beat, a well known wrestler. It also, alas, attacked an Italian governess who was enjoying a day out from Bristol, and succeeded in maiming her for life. The Raw Isolation of the Bristol Channel You can read many such strange and sometimes rip-roaring yarns in Steep Holm’s Pioneers, but here we’d better stick to the main backbone of the island’s history. Prehistoric man knew a good fishing place when he saw one and there is some evidence that he visited in his various guises; the Romans used the place as a look out station; and a most remarkable carved Cetlic head has been found in the woodland. There was a saint (St Gildas), there were Vikings, warreners, fishermen, builders, Victorian navvies, gunners, coastguards and wardens. The island was fortified in the 1860s and Steep Holm and Flat Holm form part of a line of defences, known as Palmerston Forts, built across the channel to protect the approaches to Bristol and Cardiff. Steep Holm has several gun batteries, and a centralised group of brick-built barrack blocks. These facilities were updated in both World Wars and, in the second, searchlight batteries were erected to seek out enemy planes. All this fortification is very much in evidence as you walk around the half mile long plateau which acts as a kind of flat-ish roof for the island. There’s a circular path which takes you close to the cliff-tops and a central route which leads through ancient fields that are now filled with low scrub. It’s near the eastern end of this that you come to both the ruins of a farm and the remains of an Augustinian priory believed to have been built by monks in the 12th century, and where archaeological work is ongoing. The monks are thought to have introduced plants like wild leek, henbane and caper spurge for medicine or food - some 260 species of plant have been recorded on the island, including several rarities like the wild peony (Paeonia mascula) for which Steep Holm is the only British home. A variety of buck’s-horn (Plantain Plantago coronopus), which occurs along the cliffs, is unique to Steep Holm. But it’s those gulls that you notice longest and loudest, especially at this time of the year. There are some 1800 breeding pairs on the island according to the trust’s bird expert and chairman Tony Parsons – mainly the common herring gulls, then lesser black-backed and a few greater black-backed - along with small numbers of other sea-birds. “It’s the fault of humans that gulls are such scavengers,” Tony shrugged when I pointed out that some people aren’t quite so keen on these elegant marauders. “If people in places like Weston didn’t go around dropping things like pizzas and burgers, they wouldn’t have learned to scrounge.” TAKE A LOOK AT OUR OTHER SOMERSET POSTS HERE He also told me numbers had gone both up and down over the years. At one time there were so many gulls on Steep Holm you could barely take a step without crunching eggs at this time of year – then numbers declined after the introduction of bin-liners caused waste food to heat and rot giving the gulls botulism. Now numbers are back on a more even keel. To the non-gull-lover a visit to Steep Holm at this time of year, when the gulls’ eggs are just hatching, can resemble a scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s movie The Birds. They dive-bomb and mob almost every step of the way. I’d recommend this remarkable island to everyone once the dreaded coronavirus lockdown is over – join the 1000 or so visitors a year and go to stunning Steep Holm without more ado - but if you go in May or early June, take a stout hat. Steep Holm Visitor Guide & FAQ (2026) I wrote the story above after a visit many years ago - please take a look at the following for up-to-date advice... If my story of struggling to reach this wind-scoured rock hasn't deterred you, visiting Steep Holm is one of the most rewarding, rugged adventures you can have in the West Country. However, the "state of play" has changed over the years. Here is what you need to know to plan a modern expedition to the island: How do you get to Steep Holm? You cannot simply row or sail over on a whim. Access is strictly coordinated to protect the island's Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) status. The official partner for all visits is Bay Island Voyages, who operate rigid inflatable boats (RIBs) to the island. Departures: Most trips depart from Knightstone Causeway in Weston-super-Mare, though there are some departures from Cardiff Bay. Booking: You must book well in advance through The Steep Holm Trust. Why is the trip listed as 12 hours long? Because of the extreme rise and fall of the Bristol Channel's tides—the second highest tidal range in the world—boats can only land and depart at high tide using the island’s floating pontoon. This means once you are dropped off, you are on the island for a full 12-hour tide cycle until the water rises enough for the boat to safely return. Are there facilities on Steep Holm? Yes, but they are basic. The Visitor Centre is housed inside the island's historic Victorian military barracks. Food & Drink: There is a small café inside the barracks serving hot drinks, homemade cakes, and a selection of beers, cider, and wine at a licensed bar. Water: You must bring your own fresh water flask. The trust asks that you avoid bringing single-use plastic bottles, as all rubbish has to be carted back to the mainland. Toilets: Modern toilet facilities are available next to the barracks, though the water used is non-drinking reservoir water. What is the terrain like? Steep Holm lives up to its name. Getting from the beach landing to the top of the island requires walking up a steep, moderately strenuous, and rugged path. It is roughly equivalent to walking up a steep, rough road, and is not suitable for those who are unable to walk unaided. Can I bring my dog or fly a drone? No. Because the island is a highly sensitive nature reserve home to nesting gulls, Muntjac deer, and peregrine falcons, dogs, drones, and metal detectors are strictly prohibited.