Why the Fowey Hall Walk is One of Cornwall's Best Circular Walks I've had the pleasure of doing this hike half a dozen times myself, including once with a TV crew and all the heavy equipment. Recently, I've heard from many others who have enjoyed every scenic inch of this wonderful circular walk. Fowey Hall Walk Circular | Cornwall Coastal Walk to Lantic Bay & Polruan You could probably write a book about what makes a truly classic walk. And if you did, you might want to include a chapter titled: "Great Hikes that are as Varied as They are Beautiful." The Fowey, Bodinnick, Hall Walk, Pont Pill, Lantic Bay, and Polruan circular could claim pride of place in such a chapter. This walk has almost every type of view imaginable — save for craggy moorlands. Highlights of the Fowey Hall Walk There are not one, but two ferry rides — and there's something uniquely magical about combining a walk with being afloat, even if only for a short while. This walk offers quaint Cornish street scenes, some of the finest estuarine views in the region, beautiful ancient woodlands, forgotten quays, a historic church, open heaths, stunning coast path sections, and picturesque harbours lined with welcoming pubs. Is there any walker anywhere who could resist such an offering? I think not! So, let’s head to Fowey. This depth-of-winter period is a particularly good time to visit. In summer, Fowey's central car parks fill up fast, so it’s best to use the overflow car park a few hundred yards up from the Bodinnick Ferry. Even now, this is an ideal place to leave your vehicle, as the ferry takes us across to start our walk. Crossing the River Fowey by Ferry A small but powerful boat pushes the ferry across the river towards Bodinnick, where you’ll find the historic Old Ferry Inn and Ferryside, Daphne Du Maurier’s former home. The Old Ferry Inn might not win awards for originality in naming, but its charm and coziness make it a tempting stop — perhaps for another day, as we have more miles to cover! Walking the Famous Hall Walk The Hall Walk, Polruan Climbing up past the inn, look out for the signpost for Hall Walk on your right. This path winds along the top of oak woods towards Polruan at the estuary mouth, providing breathtaking views every few steps. You'll pass a war memorial and, as the path swings into Pont Pill, a stone marking the life of Sir Arthur Quiller Couch, a noted Cambridge professor and author who lived in Fowey. I once interviewed writer Tim Heald for an ITV Westcountry segment here. He shared stories of Quiller Couch, who would row across the river to climb to this very vantage point — a tradition that adds even more depth to an already splendid route. Pont Pill and Lanteglos Church Continuing to Pont Pill, the path leads you into the serene heart of rural Cornwall, despite being so close to the lively towns of Fowey and Polruan. It’s hard to believe this peaceful spot was once bustling with sailing ships, trading goods up and down the creek. Our next climb takes us due south to Lanteglos-by-Fowey Church, where we turn left to reach the National Trust car park up on the Polruan-Lansallos road. After a short walk along the lane, we’ll arrive at the coast path — the gateway to even more spectacular scenery. Coastal Delights: Lantic Bay & Polruan 🏖 One of the walk's highlights is the stunning section of coast near Lantic Bay. From here, the view is spectacular: Great and Little Lantic Bay lie below, two hidden coves that seem to encapsulate the best of the South Cornish coast. We head west, passing Blackbottle Rock and Washing Rocks, eventually descending to Polruan. As we reach the harbour, the famous old Blockhouse comes into view — a nod to the town's rich history. Finishing the Walk in Polruan and Fowey All that remainsng the Walk with a Pint 🍻 is to board the lower-ferry (foot passengers only) back to Fowey. While waiting, why not enjoy a pint at the Lugger Inn? After crossing the river, it’s a leisurely stroll through Fowey’s charming streets back to where our adventure began. Fact File 📏 Basic Walk: From Fowey across the Bodinnick Ferry, through Hall Walk to Pont Pill, over the hill past Lanteglos Church to Lantic Bay, and west to the lower ferry at Polruan, ending back through Fowey. Recommended Map: OS Explorer 107 St Austell and Liskeard. Distance and Difficulty: Four miles, easy-going. FAQ section How long is the Fowey Hall Walk? The classic Fowey Hall Walk circular is around four miles long and is generally considered an easy to moderate walk with several hills and two ferry crossings. Is the Fowey Hall Walk suitable for families? Yes. Many families enjoy the route, although some coastal sections and climbs may be challenging for very young children. Do you need to use ferries on the Hall Walk? Yes. The classic circular route includes the Bodinnick Ferry and the foot ferry between Polruan and Fowey. Is Lantic Bay worth visiting? Absolutely. Lantic Bay is one of Cornwall's most beautiful hidden beaches, with turquoise water, dramatic cliffs and magnificent views from the South West Coast Path. Where can you park for the Hall Walk? The most convenient parking is in Fowey, where several public car parks provide access to the Bodinnick Ferry and the start of the route. Is the Hall Walk open all year? Yes, although ferry timetables vary by season and the paths can become muddy after prolonged rain. Are there pubs on the walk? Yes. Both Fowey and Polruan have excellent pubs, cafés and restaurants, making this one of Cornwall's best pub walks.

The thing about belting around travelling here, there and everywhere is that you can miss important things which happen back at home. For example, after one trip abroad this summer I was sitting in our living room with the local news on in the background, when I spotted a very good friend dominating the TV screen. It was Ian Macnab aboard his boat the Duchess of Cocklemoor - so I turned the sound up and was appalled to hear that this wonderful old vessel had been vandalised. By the time I could hear what he was saying, Ian was telling the TV reporter how people had been so generous in their donations after the boat had been damaged, he and his team had been able to fully revamp and repair this much-loved community asset. An Optimist’s Take on a Cruel Act One of the things I love about my friend is that he is one of the few perpetual optimists I know in this often mean and cruel world. So many people (probably me included) would have focussed on the fact that some idiots had seen fit to wreck a lovely old vessel when it was moored in the middle of its home-town, Langport. A boat which Ian and his team had spent so many thousands of unpaid hours turning into a thing which gives so much joy. But Ian’s entire take on the matter was the reverse. Instead of being angry with the vandals he was massively heartened by the public response. “Isn’t it wonderful that there are so many kind and generous people around,” he told me this week. “I’ve been involved with The Duchess for years now and, if I’m honest, I’d become a little weary with it all. There were times recently when I wondered if all the effort had been worth it - and suddenly here was this outpouring of kindness and support from the community and beyond. It turns out people love the idea of the Duchess and, thanks to their generosity, we’ve been able to completely revamp and repair her. “I always believed the Duchess of Cocklemoor represented a good thing - and when good things are done, then perhaps good things continue to flow from that. The Duchess proves it.” From Ferry No.2 to a Somerset Community Treasure It was nearly ten years ago that this newspaper first reported that a Langport town councillor had decided to use his own funds to purchase a semi-derelict vessel - one that, with a fair wind and a lot of hard work, might eventually be used as a community asset. I wrote then how many readers might have recollections of this particular vessel in her past life when she was known as Ferry No2 - one of a pair that spent decades plying between Teignmouth and Shaldon. Similar ferries still link the two Teign estuary communities today, but dear old No2 was condemned more than 20 years ago. Ian, a man of boundless enthusiasm, purchased the wreck with a plan to get her going again and launch her on a section of the River Parrett above Oath Lock. This riverine lockgate, in the heart of the Somerset Levels, effectively prevents anything upstream being tidal, which means the river tends to be full of water. Which, in turn, means it is navigable. And that is partly why Ian’s plan was such a wonderful idea - because, along much of this five-mile length, the river is elevated above the surrounding flat-lands on raised banks. Which means a voyage hereabouts is the boating equivalent of riding on the upper deck of a double decker bus. It’s all very wonderful indeed. One of the best and most genteel boat voyages in the region. How The Duchess of Cocklemoor Was Restored “For about 20 years I’d been discussing the idea of boats on the river,” Ian told me at the time. “But people discuss things and nothing gets done - we’ve had various river festivals over the years and I felt if you don’t do anything, then nothing ever happens. It needs a team effort really, but some mad person needs to kick it off. And that, in this particular case, seems to be me. I took the jump and bought Ferry No2 after seeing her for sale on the internet.” A massive refurbishment was duly carried out - and during the intervening years the renamed Duchess of Cocklemoor has taken thousands of people along this lovely stretch of river. “She is used as a community asset,” says Ian. “There’s a whole team who help and what happens is that groups of interested people - WI’s, University of the Third Age, and the like - book a trip and make a donation. “When I saw her lying half-sunk at the bottom of the river a day or two after she was vandalised, I thought at best we’d have to massively increase the amount we recommend these groups make as a donation. Which is not what it’s all about because we’re non-profit-making and we always want the joy of a river voyage to be affordable. Now though, thanks to all the generous donations, we’ve been able to repair her and fix everything without having to borrow funds and be forced to ask our groups for more.” A Green Future: Cedric Lynch’s Electric Motor Innovation Six years ago, Ian turned to his friend Cedric Lynch—brilliant inventor and pioneer of electric motor technology. Cedric converted the Duchess to run silently on electricity, powered by solar panels on her awning. The result? A whisper-quiet, eco-friendly community boat that glides along the Parrett using sunlight. As Ian proudly puts it: “We’re not about making money—we want to set an example of eco-friendly community boating for others.” Langport’s Riverboat: A Symbol of Kindness and Community Today, thanks to the outpouring of generosity, the Duchess of Cocklemoor is once again sailing proudly. She remains not just a boat, but a symbol of what happens when community spirit overcomes cruelty. “She’s designed to trickle wealth into town,” Ian says. “She proves that when good things are done, good things continue to flow.” To find out more about the Duchess visit - https://duchessofcocklemoor.co.uk/ The Story of the Parrett Before it Reaches Langport The River Parrett originates in the low hills above Crewkerne, near the hamlet of Chedington. Unusually for this area, the river flows north, crossing the peninsula to empty into the Bristol Channel rather than taking the easier route to the English Channel. This journey is mirrored by the 50-mile-long Parrett Trail. The river seems to fight shy of people wherever it can. It wriggles its way between North Perrott and the town of Crewkerne and skirts around communities such as Merriott, West Chinnock, South Pertherton, Stoke-sub-Hamdon and Martock. Once it has passed this linear old town, built from local golden hamstone the Parrett enters the great flatlands of the Somerset Levels. This peaceful stretch of the river passes through an area once covered in apple orchards around Kingsbury Episcopi, a tradition which is still, happily, upheld by local cider makers today. On its way north it touches the hamlets of Thorney and Muchelney - the ‘ney’ parts of their names denoting that these were once, back in Saxon times, small islands in a great swamp. Muchelney always seems to me to have an air of ancientness about it, with its ancient Benedictine Abbey and thatched buildings. When great sheets of water lap against the hamlet during the regular flooding of the Levels, it really can feel like an island. From here, the Parrett meanders a rather wonderful and scenic mile to reach Langport, a town whose name, meaning "Long Port," aptly describes its lengthy main street. I think it’s fair to regard Langport as the heartland of the river - located, as it is, halfway along the Parrett Trail. It’s a wonderful town to visit, with good restaurants, pubs, cafes and a centre offering bike rentals so that you can get out and explore the flat-ish wonders of the local landscape. FAQ section What is the Duchess of Cocklemoor? The Duchess of Cocklemoor is a restored community riverboat offering cruises on the River Parrett from Langport in Somerset. Where does the Duchess of Cocklemoor sail? The boat operates from Langport and explores peaceful stretches of the River Parrett through the Somerset Levels. How long are the cruises? Cruises vary depending on the event, but most offer a relaxing journey through the beautiful Somerset countryside with commentary on local history and wildlife. Is Langport worth visiting? Yes. Langport is one of Somerset's most attractive market towns, known for its riverside setting, independent shops, cafés and easy access to the Somerset Levels. What wildlife can be seen on the River Parrett? Depending on the season, visitors may spot kingfishers, herons, swans, ducks, egrets and other wetland birds that thrive on the Somerset Levels. Can families enjoy the Duchess of Cocklemoor? Yes. The boat is a popular community attraction suitable for families, visitors and anyone wanting to experience the River Parrett from the water. Why are the Somerset Levels famous? The Somerset Levels are renowned for their wetlands, rich wildlife, historic drainage system, walking and cycling routes, and peaceful river landscapes.

Discover one of Exmoor's highest villages on a dramatic circular walk from Hawkridge to Tarr Steps, passing ancient woodland, legendary huntsmen and one of Britain's oldest clapper bridges. Tarr Steps "I will go to the highest, wildest, windiest place I know and I shall feel the sting of the rain upon my cheeks, rather than the tears of self-pity." Into Exmoor's Wild Heart Villages don't come much higher, wilder or windier than lonely Hawkridge, perched 900 feet up in the vastness of Exmoor's ancient Forest. If Heathcliffe hadn't haunted Bronte Country's Wuthering Heights, then this would have made an ideal location for his brooding shenanigans. On a winter's day when the rain is coming off the Atlantic horizontally, nowhere is more grim. The car shook in the teeth of the gale that lashed its way down what passes for the hamlet's main street. My camera refused to raise itself off its lowest setting: a 30th of a second at an aperture of f2.8. Darkness at midday. "Oh Jesus," I thought, peering out at the squat black tower of St Giles hunched against the storm. "Do I really have to get out and walk?" That was when I felt the shame of it. The wimpishness of a modern-day purveyor of words. You see, down the centuries Hawkridge has been famed for its tough hunting parsons, and I could feel them mocking me across that forlorn, windswept churchyard. Parson Boyse, the Reverend Joseph Jekyll and my favourite—the mellifluously named Rev. D.S. Sweetapple-Horlock—not one of them would have given a toss about a full-blown blizzard, let alone a dampish gale. Putting on my stiffest upper lip, I vacated the trembling car. Five minutes into the hike, I was damn well glad to be out of doors, breathing the finest, purest air in Europe, exciting the blood corpuscles in an ecstasy of activity and kicking the sleepy, but observant, parts of the brain into a rapture of countryside. If you are enjoying this hike, take a look at some of our other Exmoor articles here St Giles Church and Exmoor's Hunting Parsons Almost at once I was stopped short by the bolted door of the church. It is a sad sign of the times when isolated temples such as this have to be locked against the long arm of crime. Anyway, I did see the gravestone of Ernest Bawden—a man who most certainly would have shrugged off this little hurricane with the merest contempt. Ernest was a legendary huntsman who would sometimes ride with his hounds until long after the moon had ascended into cold Exmoor skies. Whether you agree with the sport or not, there is something swashbuckling about the art of venery—or at least the way it was practised in days of yore. On one memorable occasion Bawden's hounds followed a stag over the sea cliffs at Culbone. They disappeared in the pale light of a new moon and the stag, together with a handful of hounds, were never seen again. Each of the parsons mentioned above was crazy about hunting. Sweetapple-Horlock even used to attend sermons wearing riding boots beneath his cassock. It is therefore a little ironic that the church in this village of venery should be dedicated to the saint who saved a hind from hounds. Walking from Hawkridge to Tarr Steps The moors near Hawkridge, A hundred metres to the left of the church gate, a lane leads north-west towards Hawkridge Cross. Follow it for about a minute until a footpath heads due north across the fields. This section forms part of the Two Moors Way and skirts Hawkridge Common above the upper slopes of Great Cleave Wood. After a while the woodland on your right becomes Row Down Wood, where the path reaches the end of a surfaced lane. A former RUPP continues downhill through the trees towards Penny Bridge, but I continued straight ahead through woodland to Parsonage Farm. There are several paths here, but continue east around the hillside before descending across fields towards one of Exmoor's best-loved landmarks. Tarr Steps: Exmoor's Ancient Clapper Bridge I have written about Tarr Steps before, so let me simply remind you that this remarkable 180-foot-long, 17-span clapper bridge is widely believed to date from medieval times. Occasionally floods carry away the enormous stone slabs—what the writer Richard Jefferies called the "stone planks"—but today each slab is carefully numbered so National Park workers can rebuild the bridge after major floods. A Welcome Stop at Tarr Farm Just across the bridge stands Tarr Farm, one of Exmoor's finest places to pause for refreshments. On a winter's day the roaring log fire provides a glorious refuge from the Atlantic gales. While enjoying a bowl of soup you might reflect on the remarkable story of George Williams, born at nearby Ashway Farm, who went on to found the Young Men's Christian Association (YMCA). Returning to Hawkridge To complete the circular walk, cross back over Tarr Steps. The surfaced lane—which enters the ford beside the bridge (do not attempt this in anything other than a four-wheel-drive vehicle, and avoid it altogether in winter)—heads south-west past Tarr Steps before rejoining the River Barle on its journey towards Penny Bridge. Road and river curve gently south-east as the valley widens beneath Marshclose Hill. This is one of the loveliest stretches of Exmoor National Park and, when open, riverside footpaths continue all the way to Dulverton. Our own route, however, climbs steadily for about a mile back to Hawkridge. It's a proper hill. No matter. You return to the car with that delicious mixture of aching legs, rosy cheeks and complete contentment. "I feel sorry for you lot," I crowed to my family when I returned. "Here you are stuck in this stuffy cottage while I—father, husband and earner of crusts—have been out to wild Hawkridge to breathe the pure air of the hills." They gave me a withering look. Not for a single moment did they envy my adventure. But I know that you, dear readers, are made of sterner stuff. Walking Information Hawkridge to Tarr Steps Circular Walk Starting Point: Hawkridge, between Dulverton and Withypool Distance: Approximately 4 miles (6.5 km) Difficulty: Easy to moderate Terrain: Woodland paths Moorland tracks Some muddy sections after rain One sustained climb back to Hawkridge Highlights Hawkridge village St Giles Church Hawkridge Common Great Cleave Wood Two Moors Way Tarr Steps River Barle Tarr Farm Map Ordnance Survey Explorer OL9 – Exmoor National Park. Before You Go Walking boots are recommended. Expect mud in winter. Check weather forecasts before setting out. Rivers can rise rapidly after heavy rain. Please follow the Countryside Code and keep dogs under control around livestock.

Discover the Enchanting Valley of Rocks: A Walk Through History and Natural Beauty ⛰️✨ What can one say about the Valley of Rocks that has not been said before? This mystical landscape in North Devon has inspired countless visitors over the centuries. The poet Coleridge referred to the "commotion of the elements" here, while William and Dorothy Wordsworth called it "The Valley of Stones." R.D. Blackmore immortalized it as the setting for Mother Melldrum's cave in Lorna Doone, but it’s Robert Southey's poetic words that truly capture its essence: "The palace of pre-Adamite kings," containing "the very bones and skeleton of the earth." (To see more Exmoor walks click here) The Lynton-Lynmouth Funicular The Valley of Rocks is a place where history, myth, and natural beauty converge. Its towering rock formations, jagged cliffs, and the ever-changing sky above make it a true gem of the West Country. It's no wonder poets and writers have been inspired by this dramatic landscape, where the raw beauty of nature feels almost timeless. Whether you're here for the literary connections or simply for the stunning scenery, the Valley of Rocks promises an unforgettable experience. A Journey to the Valley of Pre-Adamite Kings ⚡️ As I found myself in Lynton, having brought my son to play for the local football team, I decided to explore this timeless valley while the match unfolded. The Valley of Rocks, with its dramatic landscape, offers numerous public rights of way—the challenge lies in choosing which one to take. A footpath behind the football pitch caught my eye, one I’d never walked before, so I set off along its steep, perpendicular course. To find the path, I walked a hundred yards or so from the playing field towards the Valley of Rocks, turned left, and took an unofficial track past Lynton's overflow cemetery. Above the gravestones, the climb steepened until I reached the main South Cleave path issuing from southern Lynton. As I climbed further, I reached a scenic bend high above the valley, and from there, I could survey both Lynton and the iconic Valley of Rocks. This path offers one of the West Country's most awe-inspiring aerial views—all while keeping your feet firmly on terra firma. The feeling of standing at that height, with the valley stretching out below, is something hard to describe. The air is crisp, the wind is invigorating, and the panoramic views make you feel like you're on top of the world. It's moments like these that remind us why we venture out into nature—to find a sense of wonder and connection that is often missing in our daily lives. A View Like No Other 🛩️ As you round the corner, you’re greeted by a bird’s-eye view of the world's most dramatically positioned cricket pitch. Perched above Lynton, this wicket is one of the most photographed in England, second only to Lord's. The Valley of Rocks itself is unusual; it has no watercourse and runs parallel to the sea, rather than directly towards it. It’s believed that this valley once formed the main course for the Lyn rivers when sea levels were much higher. Today, the valley's floor sits some 500 feet above the current sea level. It’s easy to imagine the ancient waves and rivers carving their path through this land, giving rise to the mysterious valley we see today. One can't help but ponder if, when the next ice cap melts, the pre-Adamite kings might be awakened by saltwater once more. The geology of the Valley of Rocks is fascinating, with its layers of sandstone and quartzite revealing the story of millions of years of Earth's history. The valley's rock formations have been shaped by the forces of wind and weather, giving them their unique, almost otherworldly appearance. As you explore, it's easy to see why the landscape has inspired so much folklore and legend—there's an undeniable sense of magic here. From Lee Abbey to the Devil’s Cheese-ring 🧀 After enjoying the spectacular view from South Cleave, I continued towards Lee Bay. To descend from the path's 1,000-foot heights, a series of zigs and zags brought me to woodland near Lee Abbey. At Six Acre Wood, there’s a choice: either head down to the abbey itself or continue through the trees into Caffyns Heanton Wood. Lee Abbey itself is a tranquil retreat, with its beautiful gardens and historic buildings providing a sense of peace and reflection. The abbey, which serves as a Christian retreat, is nestled in the valley and surrounded by lush woodland, making it a perfect place for those seeking solace in nature. As I walked through the grounds, I couldn't help but feel a sense of calm—a stark contrast to the rugged wildness of the valley above. From Lee, the toll road doubles as part of the South West Coast Path, eventually bringing me to the centre of the Valley of Rocks. On quieter days, it’s a pleasant walk, though in summer the road can become frustratingly busy. Here, I paused to pay my respects to Mother Melldrum, who is said to still lurk among the rocks of the Devil's Cheese-ring. This towering stack of stone, though dwarfed by the surrounding cliffs, is the legendary winter home of R.D. Blackmore’s old witch. The Devil's Cheese-ring is one of the valley's most iconic features—a massive stack of rock that seems to defy gravity. It's easy to see why Blackmore chose this spot for his fictional witch; there's something eerie and mysterious about the way the rocks are piled, as if placed there by some ancient force. For those brave enough to scramble up to it, the Cheese-ring offers a closer look at the valley's geological wonders and a chance to feel the raw power of nature. Practical Information for Your Adventure 🌍🚶‍♂️ Basic Hike: From Lynton, over South Cleave to Lee Abbey, and back via the toll road and Valley of Rocks paths. Recommended Map: Ordnance Survey OL9 – Exmoor. Distance & Terrain: Approximately four miles; expect steep sections. Best Time to Visit: Spring and autumn offer the best weather for hiking, with fewer crowds and cooler temperatures. What to Bring: Good walking boots, plenty of water, and a camera to capture the stunning views. Whether you're inspired by poetry, literature, or the sheer beauty of this ancient landscape, the Valley of Rocks never fails to enchant. Its combination of dramatic scenery, rich history, and peaceful spots for reflection makes it a destination that offers something for everyone. From the thrill of standing on a high cliff to the quiet beauty of Lee Abbey, every corner of the valley has a story to tell. Ready for your own adventure? The Valley of Rocks awaits, with its timeless beauty and enchanting tales. Whether you're an avid hiker, a history enthusiast, or simply someone looking to escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life, this magical place will leave you with memories to cherish. So lace up your boots, grab your map, and set off on a journey through one of North Devon's most captivating landscapes.

1. The Luxborough Circular: Wooded Coombes & Local Lore The Pub: The Royal Oak, Luxborough Luxborough in snow - you can just make out the roof of the pub in this image Luxborough really does offer some of the best walking country in the South West, surrounded by an extensive network of tracks that stitch together the three-part community of Kingsbridge, Pooltown, and Churchtown. This spectacular eight-mile circumnavigation begins at Kingsbridge, right near the village hall and the ancient, thatched timbers of the Royal Oak. Following the lane south to Pooltown before swinging up the steep Dunster road, you drop onto a track past Hall Farm that ascends gently through delightful meadows. High above, nestled beneath a giant cedar tree, sits splendid old Chargot—my home for over a decade, where the late Sir Edward Malet and I once shared long, decadent evenings over immense tumblers of Scotch, trading Boy’s Own tales of flying boats on the Nile. Chargot Manor Pressing on into the deep, wooded coombe of Chargot Wood, the route climbs westwards toward Collyhill Wood and the high crest of Kennisham Hill. A century ago, this peaceful woodland was a bustling industrial zone riddled with iron mines; today, an old chimney stack peering above the trees is the only obvious evidence left that such an enterprise ever existed in the middle of nowhere. Reaching the wide, breezy expanse of Lype Common, you are treated to a maze of rights of way. The path turns north, descending sharply into the quiet of the valley before making a short, crisp climb up to Churchtown. IF YOU'RE ENJOYING THIS POST CHECK OUT OUR EXMOOR HUB PAGE FOR MORE EXMOOR IDEAS Entering the graveyard of St Mary's Church, with its distinctive saddleback tower, is always a nostalgic journey down memory lane for me. Three of my old friends lie in this unspoilt resting place: dear Ned Malet, a man named George who operated in the world of clandestine intelligence, and an academic named Mike who famously left £500 behind the bar of the Royal Oak to hire a jazz band for his wake. Leaving these sober thoughts behind, you head west from the churchyard and cross three open fields to meet the massive, pine-crowned slopes of Croydon Hill—a soaring walking zone so vast you could hike it for a week and never take the same path twice. Luxborough Church in snow Skirting the higher flanks of Perley Coombe, the route leads to a crossroads of tracks on the edge of Withypool Common, where a quick glance northward reveals a stunning panorama of the Bristol Channel and the West Somerset coast. From here, you turn sharp right to begin a long, steady descent down the eastern edge of the coombe, dropping through the border of pine forest and fields. The track guides you past the old Forestry Commission headquarters and onto the home stretch, leaving you just a short, quarter-mile stroll back to Kingsbridge. It is a walk guaranteed to build up a formidable thirst, best quenched by heading straight through the doors of the Royal Oak for a well-earned drink. Walk Rundown Start/Finish: Kingsbridge (near the village hall/The Royal Oak), Luxborough. Distance: 8 miles. Grading: Moderate to strenuous, with a few steep climbs up the coombes and forestry tracks. The Route: Kingsbridge → Pooltown → Hall Farm track → Chargot Wood → Kennisham Hill → Lype Common → Churchtown (St Mary's Church) → Croydon Hill flanks → Perley Coombe → Kingsbridge. Alternative Route (Longer): From Lype Common, head west to Heath Poult Cross, down to Old Stowey, and loop east past Throat Cottages and Westcott Farm. Featured Pub: The Royal Oak, Luxborough. Map: Ordnance Survey Outdoor Leisure 9 - Exmoor. Luxborough from Perley Combe - without the snow 2. The Dunkery Beacon Loop: The Roof of the West Country The Pub: The Rest and Be Thankful Inn, Wheddon Cross It’s always good to have an excuse to walk on Dunkery because it is an Exmoor giant that boasts without doubt the best views in the region—a sweeping panorama stretching from the Pembrokeshire Coast all the way to the English Channel sparkling through the Sidmouth Gap. This spectacular loop pairs perfectly with a day out from the excellent Rest and Be Thankful inn at Wheddon Cross. The cairn on top of Dunkery Beacon Ascending from the little car park at Rex Stile Head, the climb to the summit is easy going, offering a dramatic vantage point before you head west along the lonely, panoramic ridge path towards Great Rowbarrow. This high country is steeped in haunting tales that linger in the mind as you walk. Look down over the remote vastness of Codsend Moors and you might recall the two wretched Huguenot ladies who fell on hard times and chose to perish here away from scornful eyes. Further down in Bagley Combe, the ruins of a plague-struck hamlet hide the tragic story of an innocent solitary man who took his own life after a cruel practical joke by drunken revellers from Porlock, leaving a ghost that ensured no one would ever live there again. Yet the moor quickly shifts from the melancholy to the sublime as you roam down over Goosemoor Common and turn into Sweetworthy Combe. Sea view from the top of Dunkery Beacon This is a place to dream of when you are homesick—a secret rim where red deer graze silently, the rivulet tinkles like distant memories, and the lonely song of the skylark and harrier fills the air. It is a landscape alive with deep history, surrounded by ancient enclosures and settlements where archaeologists have unearthed the mysterious stone rings of early chieftains' huts. Your return route follows the winding beauty of Dicky’s Path, passing the legendary waters of Birchanger Spring, once reputed to have healing qualities that stayed warm in winter and cold in summer. Eventually, the path deposits you onto the road just under Easter Hill, completing a loop that fills both the lungs and the imagination. It’s a walk that provides the ultimate excuse to head back to Wheddon Cross, pull up a chair, and toast the high moor. The weather can change rapidly up on Dunkery Beacon Walk Rundown Start/Finish: Rex Stile Head car park (on the Cutcombe to Luccombe road). Distance: 6 miles. Grading: Easy going along the ridges and combes, with a steep pull at the very end. The Route: Rex Stile Head → Dunkery Beacon → Great Rowbarrow ridge path → Goosemoor Common → Sweetworthy Combe → Bagley Combe → Dicky's Path → Easter Hill. Featured Pub: The Rest and Be Thankful inn, Wheddon Cross. Map: Ordnance Survey Outdoor Leisure 9 - Exmoor. 3. The Exford to Winsford Meander: Along the River Exe The Pubs: The White Horse Hotel (Exford) & The Royal Oak (Winsford) An eight-mile meander through the very heart of Exmoor, this atmospheric hike captures the true essence of the West Country moors, linking the hunting capital of Exford with picturesque Winsford. By following the River Exe along its loveliest section, where it cuts and curves through the great contours of the wilderness, you step right into prime red deer territory. It was along the crags of Curr Cleeve that I once saw a magnificent 'royal' stag lord it over the rocks like something from a Landseer painting—a quintessential icon of England's wilderness that leaves a wonderful, indelible image marked deep inside your mental film. The village of Winsford Before setting off from the bustling crossroads of Exford, pause to imagine the village on the catastrophic night of the August 1952 Lynmouth flood, when a wall of water rushed south from the high moors. It was here at the White Horse Hotel that Police Constable E.J. Hutchings saved the landlord's young son from the surging tide by famously hooking him onto a coat peg by his jacket as the water rose to the ceiling. Fortunately, you will encounter no such tidal waves today as you pass the village school and join the peaceful riverside track heading east toward the lonely old farm at Lyncombe. Signpost next to the young River Exe From here, the Exe veers into the deep, steep, and beautifully remote sanctuary of Nethercote, an ancient Exmoor farmstead that feels as secluded as any dwelling in the West Country. Respecting the privacy of the people who live here, hikers follow the signposted alternative route through the meadows before eventually meeting the Winsford road. Rather than braving the tarmac, a riverside footpath escorts you straight into picturesque Winsford—an idyllic village that boasts both a welcoming tea-room and the thatch-roofed comfort of The Royal Oak. The depths of the valley between Exford and Winsford For the return leg, the choice of high hills is yours, each offering expansive views that guarantee you'll be in the mood to wax lyrical by the finish. My preferred route climbs west out of Winsford up Bye Hill, diving down over Bye Common back toward Nethercote to retrace your steps along the valley. Alternatively, you can ascend up to Comer's Cross and follow the paths down over Room and Road Hills, dropping back into Exford just in time for a well-earned pint beside the fire at The White Horse. The Exe valley halfway between Exford and Winsford Walk Rundown Start/Finish: Exford village centre. Distance: 7 to 8 miles. Grading: Moderate. Easy going along the valley floor, with some steep, muddy climbs on the return over the common hills. The Route: Exford → Lyncombe → Curr Cleeve → Nethercote meadows → Winsford → Bye Hill → Bye Common → Nethercote → Exford. Short Shortcut: Turn up Kemp’s Lane at the end of the Nethercote track to Staddonhill Road for a direct, abbreviated return to Exford. Featured Pubs: The White Horse Hotel (Exford) and The Royal Oak (Winsford). Map: Ordnance Survey Outdoor Leisure 9 - Exmoor. The Lynmouth walk takes you up over the hills in the distance to Countisbury 4. The Lynmouth & Countisbury Loop: High Cliffs & Viking Legends The Pubs: The Blue Ball Inn (Countisbury) & The Rising Sun (Lynmouth) If you had to choose just one coastal walk in this region that boasted truly stunning views, then the lofty lope around altitudinous Countisbury would, quite literally, be up there at the top of the list. High above Lynmouth Bay there’s not much save for St. John the Evangelist sitting snug on its shelf in the hills, and the Blue Ball Inn—an excellent, cosy roadside pub that serves as the perfect mid-walk refuge. Setting off from the picturesque harbour at Lynmouth on a fine sunny day with my wife and daughter, we headed up the inland path that hugs the northern banks of the East Lyn River. As the stream curves around Wester Wood, various paths strike upward through the trees, eventually delivering you onto the dramatic, high flanks of Wind Hill. View looking down to Lynmouth from Countisbury The summit of Wind Hill plays host to a remarkable legend concerning Ealderman Odda and the local Saxons who were chased up into the ancient hill-fort here by Hubba, the marauding brother of the Viking chief Ivan-the-Boneless. Believed to be the historic Arx Cynuit, this was where the trapped West Country men launched a desperate, suicidal charge that caught the Danes completely off guard. Hubba was killed, his feared Black Raven banner was seized, and today's hikers can ponder this bloody triumph while walking down the walled track toward the main road to join the spectacular South West Coast Path, where magnificent vistas of Lynmouth Bay unfold. Countisbury hill fort can be seen in the winter sun From here, you face a choice between a quick loop or a thrilling extension out toward the North Devon Foreland. The longer route presses east around Butter Hill, but be warned: the narrow coast path hugging the cliffside is strictly for non-vertigo sufferers. For a less alarming descent, you can follow the steep gut that drops east into Coddow Combe down to the Foreland Lighthouse. The church at Countisbury The Trinity light still flashes automatically over the Atlantic, though the old keepers’ cottages have long since been converted into holiday homes. The return journey from the lighthouse follows the paved access road all the way up to Barna Barrow, where a heather-clad footpath heads west across the moor back toward Countisbury. After an 1,100-foot climb, a long stop by the fire at the Blue Ball Inn is thoroughly deserved before you rejoin the coast path for the steep, breathtaking descent back down to Lynmouth. By the time you reach the harbor for a final pint at the Rising Sun, the massive dual climbs will have completely blown the cobwebs from even the most jaded of souls. Walk Rundown Start/Finish: Lynmouth Harbour (or Countisbury for a high-level start). Distance: 6 miles (extended version). Grading: Strenuous. Features two major 1,100-foot climbs and some narrow, precipitous cliff paths. The Route: Lynmouth → East Lyn River path → Wester Wood → Wind Hill fort → Countisbury → Butter Hill (or Coddow Combe) → Foreland Lighthouse → Barna Barrow → Countisbury (The Blue Ball) → Coast Path → Lynmouth. Vertigo Alternative: Skip the lighthouse loop entirely; head straight to the Blue Ball from Wind Hill, then return to Lynmouth via the main coast path. Featured Pubs: The Blue Ball Inn (Countisbury) and The Rising Sun (Lynmouth). Map: Ordnance Survey Outdoor Leisure 9 - Exmoor. Lynmouth seafront 5. The Withypool & Landacre Circular: Heart of the High Moor The Pub: The Royal Oak, Withypool High moors in summer offer an exhilaration that is closer to heaven than any other parish in Somerset, and this splendid eight-mile perambulation captures that magic perfectly. The river bridge at Withypool on Exmoor Beginning in the beautiful village of Withypool, where flower-bedecked lanes soon give way to frolicking lambs, you quickly pass through a gate and step out of man's ordered domain onto the wild, breeze-blown tops. Following the blue blur of a cobalt butterfly into a moorland dream, you climb north from the arched village bridge, twisting past private gardens and the old village school into the gently ascending meadows that lead to historic Kitridge Lane. Withypool deep in the heart of Exmoor This ridge-back thoroughfare offers fine views at every step, made famous by the annual Exmoor Pony drive where the wild common herds are driven down to Foxtwitchen for scrutiny and branding. Looking north across Pennycombe Water, you gaze over the great, empty massif of Exmoor’s loneliest expanse, populated by nothing save for dolmen and deer. To the south, across the broad ravine of the River Barle, the eye traces the slopes of Withypool Common rising beyond the mysteriously named Tudball’s Splats toward Porchester Post. Walking a section of the Two Moors Way, you will eventually reach the massive, stone-walled traps used by the commoners to enclose the wild ponies when the drives come in. The Barle at Withypool on Exmoor Where the track divides out on the high moor near Pickedstones, the route takes the left-hand path to begin an easy, mile-long descent toward the sparkling waters of the Barle. Reaching the stream brings a bit of an adventure—and a confession: it’s time to get your feet wet. In dry weather, you can wade across barefoot through the surprisingly warm waters, though after heavy rains it's wiser to stick to the northerly bank. Crossing over brings you to Sherdon Hutch, a riverside knoll and favourite local wild swimming pool that does a fine impression of Paignton Beach on a hot summer’s day. High on Withypool Common, Exmoor From the Hutch, you strike the road near the famous, multi-arched Landacre Bridge, where a rugged path heads east across the moors to escort you all the way back to town. It is hard to imagine the tenants of the old Royal Forest once gathering on these empty, bracken-covered banks to hold their ancient Swainmote court. In later years, the historic Court Leet wisely moved its business to the far more comfortable surroundings of the village. Following the river path straight back into Withypool, you can do exactly the same—repairing immediately to the wood-fired comfort of The Royal Oak to toast a perfect day on the high moor. Landacre Bridge in the heart of Exmoor Walk Rundown Start/Finish: Withypool village car park (just south of the arched bridge). Distance: 8 miles. Grading: Moderate. Features a steady initial ridge climb and a shallow river wading point. The Route: Withypool → Kitridge Lane → Two Moors Way → Pickedstones moorland track → Barle river crossing → Sherdon Hutch → Landacre Bridge road → South bank moorland path → Withypool. Welly Warning: The crossing at Sherdon Hutch requires wading; bring a small towel or opt to stay on the northern bank path down to Landacre Bridge during high water. Featured Pub: The Royal Oak, Withypool. Map: Ordnance Survey Explorer OL9 - Exmoor. The church at Withypool, Exmoor Frequently Asked Questions About Exmoor What is the highest point on Exmoor? The highest point on Exmoor is Dunkery Beacon, which sits at 1,705 feet (520 meters) above sea level. It is the highest point in Somerset and offers vast, sweeping views that, on a clear day, extend from the Bristol Channel and the Welsh coast all the way south to the English Channel. Where can you see wild red deer on Exmoor? Wild red deer roam freely across the national park, but they are most frequently spotted in the secluded river valleys and steep woods of the Exe Valley (around Exford and Nethercote), the quiet combes surrounding Dunkery Hill, and the deep oak woodlands of the Horner Valley. What are the best traditional pubs for walkers on Exmoor? Exmoor is famous for its historic, thatch-roofed inns. Some of the most celebrated for hikers include The Royal Oak in Withypool (ideal after a walk along the Barle), The White Horse Hotel in Exford, the ancient Royal Oak in Luxborough, and The Blue Ball Inn at Countisbury, which sits high above the coast path. Is walking on Exmoor difficult? Exmoor offers a diverse mix of terrain. While ridge-top paths like Kitridge Lane or the tracks around Luxborough offer relatively easy, level going, the landscape is defined by deep river valleys (coombes). This means many circular walks involve short, steep climbs out of the valley floors, and coastal routes near Lynmouth feature significant elevation changes. Proper walking boots and an Ordnance Survey map (Explorer OL9) are highly recommended.

Hidden on the wild northern edge of Exmoor National Park, Wild Pear Beach lies beneath the towering cliffs of Great Hangman, England's highest sea cliff. Wild Pear Beach is one of North Devon's best-kept secrets. Hidden beneath the towering cliffs of Great Hangman and Little Hangman on the spectacular Exmoor coast, it offers adventurous walkers dramatic scenery, fascinating wildlife and one of the wildest stretches of the South West Coast Path. Wild Pear Beach in Exmoor National Park Here's a visit to twin hills that have every good reason to appear in any West Country listing of great eminences – indeed one has a place in the altitudinous record books as we will reveal later – but sometimes you go to a place simply because it has some hold over you. You see it - perhaps from a car window, perhaps in the distance as you walk - and it haunts you and so you must go there and exorcise the vague, indeterminate obsession that has been lurking in your dreams. IF YOU ENJOY THIS POST CHECK OUT OUR EXMOOR WALKS PAGE Such a place, for me, is the Great Hangman, which looms above Combe Martin like a mountain by the sea. If you climb west out of England’s longest village towards Ilfracombe and look back over your shoulder you will be treated to a fine view of it – and also of it’s slightly smaller brother, The Little Hangman, not to mention romantically named Wild Pear Beach. They are all the sort of places that beg to be explored. How do you get to Wild Pear Beach? I went to Combe Martin on a cold end-of-winter day to climb the mighty peaks - and, believe me, they do seem pretty mighty when the wind is whipping in off the Atlantic like a knife. The little North Devon resort at the foot of the Hangmen (if I can use the plural term to describe them both) was completely and utterly empty. It was difficult to imagine that Combe Martin was once regarded as a port. The last commercial cargoes were landed in the 1930's and, before that, largish boats were actually built there. To reach the Hangmen from the resort you must climb east, up past Lester Point, and head east along Lester Cliff. Far below is Wild Pear Beach. If you like your strands empty of folk, then this is the place for you. Even on the hottest balmiest summer days you’ll only find a few hardy souls down there under the looming mass of the Little Hangman. The demure among you might like to note that the majority of these lonesome beach-lovers will be nudists. Quick Guide 📍 Location: Near Combe Martin, North Devon 🥾 Walk length: Varies according to route ⭐ Difficulty: Moderate to strenuous 🌊 Best for: Coastal scenery, photography, wildlife 🐕 Dog friendly: Yes (check seasonal restrictions) ⛰ Highest point: Great Hangman Check out this post on the West Country's Best Beaches Walking to Great Hangman and Little Hangman I do not know why The Hangmen were given their somewhat gruesome appellation. I have never seen a hangman, and never wish to, but I cannot imagine that even the biggest, fattest, executioner ever looked in the least bit like either of these magnificent hills. There is nothing little about Little Hangman. It's a great big chunk of a thing that lords it over Combe Martin like a miniature Matterhorn. To be precise, it's lofty top measures an impressive 715 feet (218 metres). And that is impressive when there's nothing between it and the waves that lap at the mighty, cavern-riddled, skirts below. I had a friend, the late Kestor Webb, who made it his business to explore and to map all those caves, and for years I've been attempting to summon up enough courage to ask him for a guided tour. Approaching those vast caverns needs a great deal of skill, local knowledge and an iron nerve - and I am sadly lacking in all three. Why Wild Pear Beach is One of Devon's Best Secret Beaches North Devon's spectacular cliff base zone is in a world all of its own. It is a strange, daunting and magical place accessible only to a handful of local experts whose visits are aided by a good deal of professional equipment. Do not, under any circumstance, be tempted to go clambering down there on your own. The Story of the German U-Boats The best and safest way to see it is by boat. I once travelled along here with Ilfracombe boatman Alan Kift who is a great expert on the otherwise secret zone under the Hangmen hills. “You can’t really see this area any other way but by boat,” Mr Kift told me as we cruised close-in under the mighty twin hills. “My interpretation has been to call it The Hidden Edge of Exmoor. I’ve walked most of it and you can’t see much from the land side.” Alan was right. Even the cliff-hugging coast path up at the top affords few vantage points of the boulder beaches far below, because the great hills fall away in increasingly steep slopes so there’s very little opportunity to peer directly over the edge. Which is probably why the local Home Guard failed to spot the German U-boats which used to occasionally visit this remote coastline during the Second World War. It’s a story that has been told me several times by different people, including Mr Kift. Apparently the U-boats were always well stocked with diesel, but were forever facing shortages of freshwater - by filling up from Exmoor’s isolated waterfalls the German skippers avoided having to make the dangerous trip back to mainland Europe. “I know it’s a fact they used to call in here because I met the son of one U-boat captains,” Mr Kift told me. “He was called Wolfgang and he used to bring groups over from Germany for several years. They’d come for a boat trip and he was the one who told me he wanted to see the waterfall at Sherrycombe (tucked under The Great Hangman). “When I asked him why, he told me his dad used to go there in the war to get fresh water. I’ve done a bit of research on all this and I’ve got all the numbers of the U-boats that used to do it at home somewhere.” Take a look at these walks which include a fabulous hike close to Combe Martin Way, way, up from the waves, the summit of the not so diminutive Little Hangman offers stunning views to the west. A climb up here at sunset would be well worth the effort, though you'd have to watch your step on the way back down as the light faded... The Great Hangman is exactly 328 feet (100 metres) higher than its little brother and the path slowly ascends to it high above Rawn's Rocks, which you can see when the tide is low, and Blackstone Beach - a strand frequented by no humans save, perhaps, for Mr Webb and his climbing friends. The Great Hangman is a big hunched dome of a hill with no real obvious peak or summit - if you are walking up there and have any doubt as to the whereabouts of the top, a cairn marks the spot. And if you are wondering why I should have chosen these two coastal hills for inclusion in this series, I do have one excuse that comes from the record books - apart from their amazing vertiginous seaborne drama, despite their gruesome name - these hills boast the most sensational cliffs you will ever see. Indeed, it is a little known but true fact that The Great Hangman plays host to the tallest sea-cliff in England, a mighty Alpine thing which measures 800 feet (244 m) from windy tip to watery toe. Go up to that cairn at the very top of the hill and you will see that it has an altitude of 1,043 feet (318 m) making it the highest point along the entire 630-mile South West Coast Path. You don’t need an excuse to fall in love with hills, but it’s always good to have the odd superlative to make your climb all the more worthwhile. Frequently Asked Questions about Wild Pear Beach and Great Hangman Where is Wild Pear Beach? Wild Pear Beach is a secluded cove on the dramatic Exmoor coast within Exmoor National Park, between Combe Martin and Heddon's Mouth in North Devon. It lies beneath the towering cliffs of Great Hangman and Little Hangman and is only accessible on foot. How do you get to Wild Pear Beach? The beach is reached via footpaths from the South West Coast Path. The walk involves steep descents and climbs, making it more suitable for reasonably fit walkers wearing sturdy footwear. There is no direct road access. Is Wild Pear Beach suitable for families? Wild Pear Beach is best suited to experienced walkers and adventurous families with older children. The steep coastal paths and lack of facilities mean it is not ideal for pushchairs or anyone with limited mobility. How difficult is the walk to Great Hangman? The walk to Great Hangman is considered moderate to strenuous because of the steep climbs and descents typical of the Exmoor coastline. However, the panoramic views across the Bristol Channel and along the rugged coast make the effort well worthwhile. Why is Great Hangman famous? At 318 metres (1,043 feet), Great Hangman is recognised as the highest sea cliff in mainland England. It forms one of the most spectacular sections of the South West Coast Path and offers breathtaking views over Exmoor National Park and the North Devon coast. Can you swim at Wild Pear Beach? Swimming is possible in calm conditions, but visitors should exercise great care. There are no lifeguards, the beach is remote, and sea conditions can change quickly. Always check the tide and weather before entering the water. Are dogs allowed on Wild Pear Beach? Dogs are generally welcome on Wild Pear Beach and the surrounding coastal paths. Owners should keep dogs under close control, especially during the bird nesting season and when livestock are grazing on nearby farmland. What is the best time to visit Wild Pear Beach? Wild Pear Beach is beautiful throughout the year, but late spring, summer and early autumn usually offer the best walking conditions. Early mornings and evenings provide wonderful light for photography, while spring brings colourful wildflowers to the Exmoor cliffs.

A Travel Novel of Love, Loss and Second Chances By Martin Hesp From the wild hills of Exmoor to the sunlit shores of Greece, the vineyards of northern Italy and the snow-covered peaks of Switzerland, The Lemon Tree Forest is an epic journey across Europe – a story of love, memory, danger and redemption inspired by the landscapes Martin Hesp has explored over a lifetime. When the past refuses to stay buried... Forty years after a devastating night changed his life forever, Sebastian Franklin sits alone in the crumbling manor house he now calls home on the edge of Exmoor National Park. A succession of violent winter storms has finally brought down part of the ruined west wing, forcing him to confront the memories he has spent decades trying to forget. Dusting off old notebooks, diaries and letters, he begins piecing together the extraordinary story that led him there. What emerges is far more than a tale of first love. A journey that begins in Greece Years earlier, Sebastian had been living beside a remote stretch of the Greek coast known as The Lemon Tree Forest. Hoping to leave his past behind, he instead finds himself drawn into an unforgettable romance with Sasha, a young Italian woman whose arrival changes the course of his life. Their relationship carries them from hidden Greek coves to the elegant streets of northern Italy and across the mountains into Switzerland. But powerful family loyalties, dark secrets and dangerous enemies soon threaten everything they have built together. Back to Exmoor As Sebastian tries to build a new life among the colourful characters of an isolated West Country valley, the past refuses to release its grip. The old manor becomes a place of healing, mystery and unexpected friendship. Yet the memories of Greece continue to haunt him, and the two stories gradually begin to merge until they race towards an unforgettable conclusion. Inspired by real landscapes Drawing on Martin Hesp's fifty years as an award-winning travel writer, The Lemon Tree Forest blends authentic locations with unforgettable characters. From the dramatic coastline of Greece to the rolling hills of Exmoor, every setting is rooted in places the author has explored, photographed and written about throughout his career. Perfect for readers who enjoy Character-driven literary fiction Epic love stories Travel-inspired novels Atmospheric settings Family secrets and mystery Europe brought vividly to life Begin the journey today. Available in Kindle and Paperback. About Martin Hesp Martin Hesp has spent more than fifty years travelling throughout Britain and Europe as an award-winning journalist and travel writer. The Lemon Tree Forest draws on many of the landscapes, cultures and communities he has explored during his career, blending authentic locations with an unforgettable story of love, memory and second chances. A dinner in Vitznau, Lake Lucerne, which the author really did attend and which helped to inspire the book Frequently Asked Questions Is The Lemon Tree Forest based on a true story? While the characters are fictional, many of the locations are inspired by real places Martin Hesp has visited and written about during his fifty-year career as a travel journalist. Where is The Lemon Tree Forest set? The novel moves between Exmoor in south-west England, the Greek coast, northern Italy and Switzerland. What genre is The Lemon Tree Forest? It combines literary fiction, romance, mystery and travel writing, creating an atmospheric novel inspired by some of Europe's most beautiful landscapes. Is The Lemon Tree Forest available in Kindle and paperback? Yes. The novel is available in both Kindle and paperback editions through Amazon. Who would enjoy reading The Lemon Tree Forest? Readers who enjoy evocative settings, character-driven stories, European travel, romance and mystery are likely to enjoy the novel.

Life on the vertical. That is one way of describing the stunning Amalfi coast. Other words are a waste of time here, because everyone has heard of Italy’s mountainous World Heritage shoreline which grandstands its way south of the Sorrento Peninsula. That great finger of rock itself is dramatic enough - terminating, as it does, the massive, blue, Vesuvius-dominated, sweep south of the Bay of Naples. But around the corner - around the massive limestone crags where the Sirens used to lure their sailor pray - you come to the vertiginous littoral that has been attracting mankind for millennia. Which might seem strange to anyone whose world is more horizontal than vertical. To a person from plains, fenlands or river deltas, the proposition of surviving - let alone flourishing - in such an abruptly steep place would seem impossible. But people have been clinging to these maritime cliffs and gorges for thousands of years, and a rather enviable time they’ve had of it compared to the historic lives of many local civilisations. There is plenty of fertility in the tiny pockets of more level land which have collected the fertile volcanic soils - and lemons, grapes and just about anything else vegetal that you can plant, including tomatoes and aubergines, seem almost to leap out of the sun-warmed canyons and defiles. Linking these pockets of land, and the villages and hamlets that go with them, are ancient packhorse trails which weave their way up from seaside to mountain-top - often in a seemingly impossible and overly optimistic series of switchbacks and tucks and turns. But somehow these old pathways - laid, in many cases, by the Romans - pull off the impossible and get you either to the top of the crags, or to some hidden beach far from the madding summer crowds. They are public rights-of-way that most visitors never see and probably do not even dream exist. The tourist buses go chundering along the famous twisting and turning single road that links the towns of Positano, Amalfi and Salerno and passengers oooh and aaah at the terrifying drops below them rather than look upwards into the mountains. If they do look upwards, they’ll find it hard to imagine that paths wend their way up into the great clefts, or that hiking along them can be a hugely enjoyable thing to do. I once enjoyed a trip there with Rambler Worldwide Holidays, which organises a week-long tour that embraces both of these worlds. In other words, a vacation that gives you plenty of chances to ride on buses and do a bit of vertical sightseeing with all the other tourists - and also explore the extraordinary landscape in more depth by striding out along some of the paths. Taken as an entire weeklong experience, this allows you to enjoy one of the world’s most beautiful holiday hotspots in a way that affords a much more satisfying, more interesting, holiday than if you were to stick to the well-travelled tourist trail. You begin to understand how life on the vertical works, how it has flourished down through the ages, and how local farmers and fishermen have adapted to the modern world. Oh, and you are treated to much, much, better views than the ones you can enjoy from the overcrowded lay-bys where the luxury coaches stop for ten minutes. If all this talk of abysses and vertiginous mountainsides is enough to scare the living daylights out of you, then please note that the old Roman road-makers who paved the donkey trails were masters at civil engineering - indeed, it is an intellectual treat to walk along their safe secure paved tracks that somehow avoid sheer cliffs and terrifying drops. For those who haven’t been there, we’d better offer a brief explanation of the local geography because - despite being world famous - it does come as a bit of a surprise. Where the Bay of Naples sweeps south it veers abruptly west to come to its final, rocky, lands-end near a town called Marciano. This mountainous finger - which points a few miles across the Mediterranean to the Isle of Capri - is the Sorrento Peninsula. But then what the Amalfi Coast does is to change violently in direction to sweep back inland in an easterly march as it creates the northern shores of the Gulf of Salerno. this is the section known as the Amalfi Coast. And what this means is that if you were to climb the mountains - either from the Sorrento side or from the Amalfi side - you’d actually find yourself looking down onto yet more sea once your reached the top and looked over the other side. This comes as a bit of surprise if you go there before studying a local map. And it is a fabulous revelation of the kind only slender peninsulas or thin islands can give. And, indeed, a surprise of panoramic proportions that you can enjoy on the holiday.

Funny how things you conceptualised as a kid can linger for the rest of your life. That’s the way feelings about the county of Dorset have developed and remained for me, thanks to my father and the works of Enid Blyton. Enid Blyton, Dorset, and Childhood Impressions My neighbouring county has always felt vaguely like a distant land to me. Why? Because my dad, in his literary way, detested the works of Ms Blyton (who loved and wrote about Dorset) and, most unlike him, he banned them from the house. So devoted was the writer of children’s books to Dorset you can now follow the Enid Blyton Trail through miles of her favourite landscapes around Purbeck and Corfe. Class Divides and the Perception of Dorset My father relented years later and explained that he’d been suffering from a kind of inverted snobbery. I grew up with the vague impression that coastal Dorset was where rich folk from London went on holiday and consequently it was not really a place for working-class Westcountry oiks like me. Walking the Wessex Ridgeway: Dorset’s Stunning High Ground Sorry, I really must go and see a psychiatrist one of these days. Because my mission in today’s Hesp Out West is to shout the glories of Dorset from the rooftops. Or, quite literally, from the ridge-tops. One hot summer day, poet James Crowden and I marched along the 18-mile ridgeway that starts in Beaminster and ends in Lyme Regis. Poets on Lewesdon Hill The Wessex Ridgeway: A Trail Through Dorset’s Past and Present What we were following (more-or-less) was the southerly end of a magnificent ridge-top route crossing Dorset’s rural heartland, known as the Wessex Ridgeway Trail. The temperature made our first climb up the steep sides of Gerrard’s Hill, just west of Beaminster, an act of mad-dogs-and-Englishmen proportions. Dorset’s Highest Points: Pilsdon Pen and Lambert’s Castle 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 Dorset – though James told me there were debates over the claim. It’ll do me though – the strange flat-topped eminence offers views over half of southern England. Poetry and History Along the Wessex Ridgeway It was on the steep slopes of this Westcountry mountain that we came across an elegant field gate, created by a talented carpenter called Karen Hansen, of Evershot. It is known as the “Wordsworth Gate” because William and Dorothy Wordsworth first set up house together just a mile away in Racedown Lodge. When James was writer-in-residence for the ridgeway, he was commissioned to write poems which he later collated into a book called Dorset Footsteps. Dorset’s Literary Connections: Wordsworth and Coleridge We walked on down the hill to meet Ross Dickinson, a fascinating local farmer-turned-archaeologist. It was here that I was to hear more of the Romantic Poets’ link to Dorset. This was outlined by poetess Catherine Simmonds, who has done extensive research on the Wordsworths’ two-year stay in Dorset. The Bottle Inn: Home of the World Nettle Eating Championships We proceeded along the two miles to The Bottle Inn (once home of the World Nettle Eating Championships). The pub was closed last time I passed, but I understand it is due to reopen soon. Crossing Dorset’s Landscapes: Marshwood Vale and River Lim We reached the ramparts of Lambert’s Castle Hill, yet another high point offering fabulous views of glorious tree-studded Marshwood Vale and the distant sea. Our final stretch took us along the verdant valley of the River Lim, leading us southwards to Lyme Regis. Arriving in Lyme Regis: A Seaside Welcome Which is where photographer Richard Austin was waiting for us, having purloined four fresh mackerel for me from Harry May, a friendly local fisherman. Max Gollop, owner of The Cobb’s Aquarium, came out to greet us and introduced Catherine to his school of finger-sucking mullet. A Perfect Dorset Walk: Poetry, Cider, and Fresh Mackerel Upon which word James’ father, the late Guy Crowden, arrived and handed me that rarest cut of meat of them all, the aforementioned Bath-chap—and I went home a very happy and exhausted fellow. Not so much Five Go Mad in Dorset, but Three Walk Themselves Weary in The Land of Chalk and Ridges. If you ever feel in need of a long, airy hike with fabulous views, this would take some beating. Plan Your Wessex Ridgeway Adventure To find out more about the Wessex Ridgeway, visit: Dorset Council - Wessex Ridgeway

With Britain sweltering through another exceptional heatwave, thousands of people are heading for the beaches of Devon and Cornwall. The trouble is that the most famous stretches of sand can become packed before lunchtime. Polzeath After decades exploring the South West coast for newspapers and magazines, these are the Best Beaches in Devon and Cornwall I return to—whether I'm looking for family-friendly sands, dramatic scenery, swimming or somewhere to escape the crowds. Chapel Porth beach in Cornwall Why Devon and Cornwall Have Britain's Best Beaches Mid-June is traditionally a time when people really begin to think of the true summer to come and start making plans about which beaches they may visit when the sun does decide to shine in heated earnest. Few places in Britain can rival the beaches of Devon and Cornwall. From vast surfing strands and family-friendly sands to tiny coves hidden beneath towering cliffs, the variety is extraordinary. To me, it's some of those tiny coves that come top of my wishlist. The tiny cove at Porthgwarra Much of this remarkable coastline is protected by the National Trust, ensuring that many of its finest beaches remain unspoilt and free from overdevelopment. Better still, the 630-mile South West Coast Path follows virtually every mile of the Devon and Cornwall coastline, allowing walkers to discover secluded coves and spectacular viewpoints that are inaccessible by road. It's this unique combination of natural beauty, careful conservation and easy access that makes the South West England's finest beach destination. Of course, it is impossible to make such a list, but here’s what I came up with. And in this glorious weather I’d like to be on any one of them… Walking across the sands at Rock Pedn Vounder: Perhaps my No 1 favourite. Just thinking of its perfect rocks, sea and sand makes me want to jump in the car and drive the 160 miles it would take to reach this westerly spot. Pity it’s so distant in furthest West Penwith - and, be warned, the climb down requires you to hang on to a rope. Hesp at Pedn Vounder years ago Woolacombe: The antithesis to Pedn Vounder. Easy-to-reach, huge, extremely popular… But the crowds don’t go there for nothing - fabulous sand and surf, this is England’s answer to California. And you can always escape the hordes by walking along the dunes to Baggy Point. North Devon is rich in wonderful beaches. View from Baggy Point looking down at Woolacombe sands Beer: Not the booze but the wonderful old-fashioned cobble beach under the East Devon village of that name… Think: excellent tea-shops located in wooden beach huts, clinker-built motor-boats you can hire, fishermen hauling their crab boats up on winches and local families who’ve been hanging out here for summertime decades. East Devon is another area eich in wonderful beaches. Summer crowds on Beer beach St Martins Bay, Isles of Scilly: Simply the best, finest, white sand to be found anywhere in Europe. This is where the West Country turns into the Caribbean - the blue-green waters are so clear you can see that fine white sand 40 feet down when you are snorkelling. St Martins is remote. Beautiful. Unforgettable. The white sands of St Martins Maceley Cove: If you adore distant, empty coves where a small horseshoe of sand is bordered by rocks and pools and a restless, crystal-clear sea, then Maceley Cove is for you. So wonderfully wild, picturesque and oddly foreign are the environs around the charming little village of East Prawle - that the area long ago ascended straight to the top of my list of favourite places. Maceley Cove in shadow on the south Devon coast Saunton Sands: so wide and smooth and wonderful I have even seen large Hercules aeroplanes landing here. So large, you can always find a quiet corner for yourself. Also at Saunton Sands you can visit the amazing Braunton Burrows dunes – an officially classified 'biosphere'. The wide stretch of Saunton Sands Porthcothan: One of the finest beaches on the North Cornish coast. Great sand and surf, with plenty of alluring rock pools when the tide goes down. You might even recognise the place where Ross Poldark in the recent TV series forever galloped along the top of the cliffs. Porthcothan is where I used to take my family on most of our beach holidays. The beach at Porthcothan, Cornwall Lantic Bay: Another small horseshoe of sand bordered by rocks and pools and crystal-clear sea classic… And like Maceley and so many other coves, a bit difficult to reach on foot from nearby Polruan. Which is why this one is so popular with boating beach-goers all summer long. The empty beach of Lantic Bay, near Polruan Portheras Cove: Another West Penwith special. Portheras, tucked away under the Pendeen Watch Lighthouse, is a jewel among coves. A golden sand beach of near perfect proportions. A remote bit of rocky littoral that hangs in the mind like a beautiful dream. A fabulous, oceanic, ozone-filled dream… Portheras Cove down in West Penwith Stoke Beach: Down in the South Hams west of Mothecombe Beach on the Erme Estuary - it’s just about all the sandy same when the tide is out and you can paddle and sunbathe in one of the most peaceful places in the region. If the tide is in, take a canoe and explore the fabulous local coast . Stoke Beach on the South Hams coast in Devon And another for good measure - the beach at Bedruthan Step...

Can you imagine a world in which rogues in London would sell sparkling West Country cider as French champagne? Can you believe that some Devon cider-makers used to add mustard to their sparkling bottled products to give the drink an extra “bite” - or that most of the region’s cider producers used to burn sulphur or brimstone in their barrels in attempt to keep out microbes and other nasties? All these dodgy things - and a great many weird and wonderful things besides - were going on in the region 120 years ago, according to a tome called A Book of the West published in 1899, written by that well known Devon scribe, the Reverend Sabine Baring-Gould. I did some homework and this led me to a cider-filled chapter Baring-Gould wrote on the town of Crediton in his excellent book. It’s a passage which reminds you that nothing in the world really changes… “When there is a general cry for legislation to ameliorate in some way the condition of agriculture, it is a satisfaction to think that one act of Government has had a beneficial effect on the English farmer - if not throughout the land, at all events in the West of England and in other cider-making counties - and that act was the laying of heavy duty on foreign sparkling wines. “Quite as much champagne is drunk now as was before the duty was increased, but unless we are very much mistaken some of that champagne comes from the apple and not from the grape.” The suspicious Sabine goes on: “A story is told that a gentleman the other day applied to a large apple-orchard farmer in the West of England for a hogshead or two of his sparkling cider. The farmer replied that he was very sorry not to be able to accommodate him as in previous years, but a certain London firm had taken his whole year’s ‘pounding’. He gave the name of the firm and assured his customer that he could get the cider from that house. “The gentleman applied, and received the answer: ‘Sir, We are not cider merchants. You have made some mistake. We are a firm of champagne-importing merchants from the celebrated vineyards of MM’.” Today’s more discerning palettes would surely have detected the difference and questioned a so-called champagne made of apples instead of grapes. Baring-Gould came to the following, rather philosophical conclusion: “Well, the money goes into English pockets - into those of the hardly-pressed and pinched English farmers. And cider is the most wholesome and sound of beverages. So all is well.” But he also notes that the fruit of West Country orchards was finding its way into other products with labels that never mentioned the word ‘apple’. “Our dear old friend, the apple, not only serves as a kindly assistant to help out the supply of wine, but also forms the basis of a good many jams. With some assistance it is converted into raspberry and plum - but no inducement will persuade it to become strawberry.” And what about this for a paragraph that, to some degree at least, reflects the modern day situation… “For some 20 or 30 years the orchards were sadly neglected,” wrote Baring-Gould. “The old trees were not replaced, there was no pruning, no cleaning of the trunks, the cattle were turned into the orchard to gnaw and injure the bark and break down the branches, no dressing was given to the roots, and the pounding of apples was generally abandoned. “But thanks to the increased demand for cider—largely, no doubt, to be drunk as cider, also, it is more than suspected, to be drunk under another name—the farmers in Somersetshire, Devonshire, Hereford, and Worcestershire have begun to cultivate apple trees, and care for them, as a means of revenue.” The “to be drunk under another name” reference today would not refer to champagne, of course - but it does register with the new trend for “flavoured” ciders which line the supermarket shelves, much to the despair of those who’d prefer to see the “real thing” than sugary alcoholic drinks laced with chemically formed berry juices. “In former days there were many more orchards than at present,” wrote the good reverend. “Every gentleman’s house, every farmhouse, had its well-stocked, carefully pruned orchard. Beer ran cider hard, and nearly beat it out of the field and overthrew the apple trees - but the trees are having their good times again.” We’re talking about the champagne-like drink known as keeved cider - and it is a word Baring-Gould was using 120 years ago when describing the Devonshire cider-making process… “The cider as it flows away is received in ‘kieves’. No water whatever is added to the apples. What comes away is the pure unadulterated juice. When, however, the cider has been wholly pressed out, then it is customary to make a hole in the ‘cheese’ and pour in some water, which is left to be absorbed by the spongy matter. This is afterwards pressed out, and goes by the name of ‘beverage’. It is not regarded as cider. It is sharper in taste, and is appreciated by workmen.” I’m not so sure it would be appreciated today. But then, Sabine writes: “Sweet cider is in far greater demand by the general public than that which is ‘rough’ - but a West Country labourer will hardly thank you for the cider that will be drunk with delight by the cockney.” Apparently the farmworkers of Devon and Somerset preferred the kind of cider that takes the lining off the inside of your teeth. “The rougher the better, till it almost cuts the throat as it passes down,” wrote Baring-Gould. He added: “Unless bottled, cider is difficult to preserve owing to the development of lactic acid. Moreover, in wood it turns dark in colour, and if allowed to stand becomes of an inky black, which is not inviting. This is due to having been in contact with iron.” Black cider… No, not at all inviting. It’s no surprise that it is one of the old-fashioned processes that no one is keen to revive today. Rather like the one that called for the odd dead rat to be left in the brew in order to give the flavour a bit more heft. No, cider has come a very long way - and we should be proud and supportive of the high apple based drinks coming out of the West Country today, because there is always the danger that large companies will make further inroads into the artisan-style product, cutting costs as they go in a bid to nudge the smaller artisan producer out of the market place.

The other days I came across an old video we made about cycling down the Camel Trail, which you can see here. I also wrote this article about the cycling adventure… Sometimes the greatest journeys are ones where you and you alone earn all the glory. Foot-slogging, Shank’s Pony, stomping, striding, pedalling, call it what you will – it’s your own muscle power that takes you from A to glorious B that does that trick and resulting in a sense of satisfaction that can make you prouder than anything a ride in a machine can offer. I suppose bicycles are machines, but you know what I mean. Cycle the length of the Camel Trail, and back, and you won’t regard your two wheels as offering much of an advantage. Depending on your level of fitness, your muscles will be complaining of their state of weariness somewhere along the journey – and next day they’ll be lining up big time to remind you that perhaps your aren’t the youthful age you thought you were. Mine were reporting for pain and sympathy last week – especially in the unmentionable areas that surround a bicycle’s saddle. Running and walking is what I do to keep fit – I now know that cycling requires a different kit of parts altogether. Not that any of this discomfort in the least bit detracted from the pure joy of the Camel Trail. The 18 miles of disused railway track offers one of the best days out in the region. That's no exaggeration. The trail follows the River Camel faithfully as it meanders through some of the finest countryside to be found in the county of Cornwall. Indeed, the Camel Valley belies the incorrect adage which claims all that is best in Cornwall is to be found within 100 yards of the sea. We began our journey at Poley's Bridge, close to the village of St Breward, but the trail has been extended north a bit to Wenfordbridge through the old China clay dries – thanks to the generosity of Imerys which owns the land. The area is a surprisingly remote and lonely part of the Camel Valley halfway between Camelford and Bodmin. From here the trail runs south, then west through Wadebridge, to follow the ever widening estuary to Padstow. It is excellently maintained and, believe me, is a pure joy to peddle. We did the whole trip - down to the sea and back up again - in one day and despite the muscle ache, rain, wind and the disappointment of finding Rick Stein’s fish and chip shop closed for the afternoon, I'd recommend the experience to anyone. The trail runs along the track of an old railway line which was first proposed by Sir William Molesworth of Pencarrow in 1832. The Wadebridge to Bodmin railway was built to convey the lime-rich sea sand from the Camel estuary to the bleak and infertile farms up in the hills. Construction started straight away and on the 4th July 1834 the line was opened. Believe it or not, it was the world’s third working railway- after the Stockton to Darlington and the Liverpool to Manchester lines. So you are certainly cycling along history. By 1846 the rail network in the region had been extended and the line was purchased by the London and South Western Railway. Later, in 1899, it was extended to Padstow so that passengers could reach the seaside from the main line at Bodmin. During the Plymouth blitz, trains used the Bodmin-Boscarne-Wadebridge link lines to travel over the North Cornwall line to Exeter and beyond. As you begin to cycle down the heavenly valley, happy historic thoughts fill your mind. “How civilised,” you think. “How very sophisticated to have such a fantastic network of hugely efficient public transport. Wouldn’t such a thing help to alleviate our massive carbon footprint? If we had such networks everywhere we could truly be said to be combating global warming…” Alas such thoughts did not occur to anyone in 1967. On 28th January of that year passenger services between Padstow and Bodmin Road ended after 132 years – chopped by the Beeching Axe. Talking of executions, grizzly hangings at Bodmin Gaol used to see the line at its busiest. For instance, when brothers William and James Lightfoot were hanged for the murder of Neville Norway on 13th April 1840, special excursion trains were laid on and stopped outside the Gaol. From the windows of the trains, passengers would have been able to see the murderers swinging. And talking of swinging, there were some kids leaping from a Tarzan swing at a place called Crabb's Pool, when we cycled by on our way to Bodmin. Jolly good fun it looked too, as they plunged into the murky depths of the river. Too cold for me though. The river is not exactly warm as it has flowed through miles and miles of woodlands to reach this spot. Beautiful mixed woodlands, which have an air of timeless peace and quiet about them. Along these sections you really do see deepest Cornwall at its best, but there's more to come after we pass Boscarne Junction and head for the tidal reaches of the magnificent River Camel. It’s at Boscarne Junction that the steam trains of the Bodmin and Wenford Railway are shunted from one end of the train to the other so that they can return up the hill to town. For the whole of its early course the Camel flows in a southerly direction as if making for Land’s End, but suddenly it changes its mind to veer north-west. And the change marks an adjustment in the way the river looks. Not long after Boscarne Junction it changes flavour in a subtle sort of way – up until now it has been a wooded and bosky affair with the occasional rapid and pool. Now it begins to runs through a series of miniature wetlands. Reed beds do their best to hide the stream and all of a sudden as you cycle along, you realise that the Camel has become estuarine. On our return journey were able to see just how fast the incoming tide can flow - at about the same speed as I was pedalling - but it was difficult to tell exactly where the freshwater and saltwater zones have their birder. Somewhere around where the River Ruthern enters from the south, under Great Grogley Downs, I think. What doesn’t change – yet, at least – is the way the Camel keeps to its modest-sized valley. The embracing of saltwater isn’t welcomed by some huge sea-facing vale as it is with quite a few West Country estuaries, the river squeezes through the hills as if keeping its whereabouts secret from the rest of the world. Nevertheless, it is all part of the Special Area of Conservation (SAC) under the EC Species and Habitats Directive. Sounds important – and it is, because not many areas in Britain get that international accolade. A local fisheries officer once told me that the humble bullhead fish, along with the otter, were the primary reasons for the river system receiving the designation. “Freshwater fish species recorded within the Camel include Atlantic salmon, sea trout, brown trout, bullhead, juvenile lamprey and eel,” he said. “There are also small populations of three-spined stickleback, minnow and stone loach. In some years sea lamprey have been recorded spawning within the lower reaches of the river Camel (between late May and July). We would always be interested in sightings of this relatively uncommon species.” The lower reaches are where my bicycle journey took me next - after I'd negotiated the busy streets of Wadebridge. I say busy, but things aren't nearly as bad as they used to be before the big A39 bypass put a huge road bridge across the river on the sea side of town. Before that everything used to come over the ancient, narrow, multi-arched bridge and the traffic used to tail back for miles. It’s a pity, though, that more hasn’t been done to protect the estimated 400,000 users who cycle the trail (or part of it) each year. That is an impressive number of people – and they spend an estimated £3 million locally per annum – so the fact they are allocated a mere foot-wide strip along the side of Wadebridge’s busy roads seems a bit mean. Given that whopping annual spend, I am sure something could be done along the riverbank to keep the cyclists safe. Past the pubs, supermarkets, restaurants and traffic, we are suddenly peaceful and free from peril again. Cycling under the huge span of the A39 you can see how the valley does widens dramatically to create a vast estuarine landscape. An officer for the Environment Agency once told me: “The Camel is a prime site of nature conservation value in Cornwall. It contains the largest and most sheltered inlet on the north Cornwall coast and includes a diverse range of habitat types. “Much of the site is occupied by extensive sand bars and mudflats which support little vegetation, but which, together with the extensive areas of salt-marsh, are very important for birdlife. This is one of the best sites for birds in the county: the site is of national importance for golden plover. The numbers of wigeon, curlew, dunlin and lapwing are also of note.” You can spot all of these and more as you pedal down the seven miles of ex-railway track to Padstow. It is as beautiful an estuary as any in the country - made all the better for the fact that no road comes near. A couple of tiny lanes do creep down to the southern shore, but they stop abruptly and do not run alongside the old line nor interfere with it. Which is exactly the way cycle trails should be. As we approach Padstow we can look across at Rock - which isn't in the least bit rocky at all but entirely sandy instead. Dunes dominate the northern shore of the estuary at this point, and effectively hide lovely old St Enedoc Church where John Betjeman lies buried. I can never think of the place without recalling these nostalgic lines of childhood seaside joy, from his poem called 'Trebetherick': Blessed be St Enedoc, blessed be the wave,/ Blessed be the springy turf, we pray, pray to thee,/ Ask for our children all the happy days you gave/ To Ralph, Vasey, Alastair, Biddy, John and me. There are lots of Ralphs, Vaseys, Alastairs, Biddys and Johns – or the modern equivalent of their kind - tootling, weaving, grunting and generally being two-wheeled along the line now and you have to watch out you don’t collide with some folk who are obviously newcomers to the art of pedalling. Until now, the concentration of cycle traffic has been fairly sparse, but as you near Padstow you come across a two-wheeled version of the M25. Particularly dodgy, if our day out was anything to go by, are middle-aged dads who stick their very young children in tiny buggies which they tow behind their hire bike. I got the feeling some of these guys hadn’t been on a cycle for years and could have done with ten minutes of practise in some private skid pan. The moment we entered Padstow and passed the many cycle hire centres it started to rain. But that didn’t matter to us because we could smell the fish and chips which had been the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow ever since we left Poley’s Bridge. Alas, we were to learn that this magical aroma can hang about in the air even after fish and chips have ceased to be fried – Rick Stein’s excellent emporium specialising in this tradition British treat was closed. June in Padstow – thronged with hungry visitors – and the excellent and admirable TV chef closes his chip shop at 2.30. It was a disappointment that made cycling in the rain 18 miles up the gentle hill back to the car slightly – ever so slightly – less alluring. Rick’s PR lady came out to apologise and said: “Come back and do the trail again and we’ll make sure you are fed.” Which is all the excuse I need to tell my unmentionable muscles we’ll be doing the Camel Trail again as soon as we’ve mended… Sidebar Strange name, Camel. Nothing to do with dromedaries though - more likely to be derived from the old Cornish word “cam” meaning crooked. And the Camel does weave about a bit during its 25 miles from source to sea. There is one big important bend though and that is the one between Boscarne Junction and Bodmin. From the source to here the river has flowed from north to south - now it swings west to head straight for the sea.