Withypool Common near where Hope Bourne used to live I’ve just listened to a remarkable two-person play on BBC Radio 4 all about Hope Bourne – the now relatively famous Exmoor writer and painter. It was excellent. First class. Beautifully written and acted. The woman playing Hope had her voice off to perfection – it could have been her sister. Not that she had one. And it set me thinking… ✍️ When Hope Bourne Refused an Interview A book by Hope Bourne lies open on my desk. Inside is a note written in September 1988 to my journalist father, Peter Hesp, which reads: “You ask about a possible interview – the answer, sadly, must be no…” I won’t go into her reasons for refusing – they were deeply personal and related to her health. But she did soften her stance slightly, enclosing her newly installed telephone number. Ex-directory, of course. She added that my father would be welcome to visit her informally – not as a journalist, but as a friend – if he fancied the journey to her remote corner of Exmoor, where she lived in a tiny, half-derelict caravan. 🌧️ A Call That Changed Everything Which is why what happened two years later was so extraordinary. Out of the blue, both my father and I received a call from Hope herself. This time she wasn’t reluctant – she was insistent. Urgent, even. She wanted to speak out. She was furious with the government of the day – and particularly with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. She felt she could no longer remain silent. So we headed for the hills above Withypool. It was one of those proper  Exmoor days – wind howling, rain slashing sideways across the moor. (For an overview of our special Exmoor Walks on this website click here ) 🚗 Waiting in the Storm on Exmoor We sat in my father’s tiny Mini Metro, the car rocking in the gale, waiting. I had commissions from The Guardian  and BBC radio. Whatever happened next would need to be turned into something publishable. And then, through the sheets of rain… 🧥 “A Jaunty Bundle of Anoraks” Here’s an extract from my Guardian  piece, published Friday, February 16, 1990: “Eventually what came out of the swirling torrents was a jaunty bundle of anoraks and scarves. After a great unravelling of these many outer layers, we at last met Miss Hope Bourne. She took the front passenger seat and, holding the other journalist’s hand, she turned to me: ‘Yes, I am a political creature and that is why I have decided to speak out. And yet for 30 years I have lived in these hills, no better than an animal.’” Hope Bourne shot straight from the hip – and at that moment, all her guns (she was, incidentally, a fine shot) were aimed firmly at Margaret Thatcher. “It takes a woman to see the cruel, wicked misuse of powers which is undoubtedly taking us toward a totalitarian state,” she said quietly. “I have voted Tory all my life, but now I am lost… Yes, I hate that bloody woman… Now I hate her because of her cruelty.” 🏕️ Life in a Caravan on Exmoor When it came to material wealth, Hope Bourne lived far removed from the stockbroker belt. Her “stock” was her neighbour’s cattle, which she tended in exchange for ground rent on her 12-foot caravan, perched high in a remote coombe. The caravan itself was so dilapidated that a tarpaulin was pegged over the entire structure to keep out the weather. We had to meet her at the bottom of the valley. My father had visited years earlier and remembered that there was only room for one person inside. To read about a walk around the area where Hope Bourne s ued to live click here... 🦌 Survival, Self-Reliance and a Rifle Hope lived without electricity, running water, or modern comforts. Her one practical luxury? A high-velocity rifle. “There are plenty of rabbits and the occasional hare… I’ve always been able to butcher my own meat. The things I have managed to teach myself, I have always done well. Shooting is one of them.” She was clear-eyed about her lifestyle: “Don’t think I’m just an oddball who likes living far away from civilisation. As I am poor, it has been a matter of necessity.” And yet, there was resilience – even pride. 💪 Toughness Forged on the Moor Her stories bordered on the unbelievable: “Once I broke my knee in that hollow down there. I had to crawl over two fields to get home. I made myself a splint and hobbled about for months… No, I didn’t go to a doctor.” In 30 years, she had visited a doctor just once – after midges stung her eyes and temporarily blinded her. 🎩 From Victorian Upbringing to Wild Exmoor Life This rugged existence stood in stark contrast to her earlier life. Hope had been brought up in a genteel, almost Victorian household by her widowed schoolteacher mother. But when her mother died, so too did her financial security. She sold the family home in Devon and, with only a few hundred pounds, retreated into the wilds of Exmoor. 🌟 A Life That Might Have Been As a young woman, Hope had dreamed of influence and impact: “I felt the urge to be a great speaker… one of those people who make history.” Instead, illness and circumstance intervened. She left school at 14, suffered from asthma, and lived a restricted life at home until her mother’s death. But then came a turning point: “I made a list of all the things I had been told not to do… then I did every one of them.” And with that, she remade herself. “In fact… you could now describe me as being quite robust.” 📚 Why Hope Bourne Still Matters Today Listening to that BBC Radio 4 play reminded me just how extraordinary Hope Bourne really was. Not just a writer. Not just an artist. But a fiercely independent spirit who carved out a life on her own uncompromising terms in one of England’s wildest landscapes. And perhaps that’s why she still resonates today – in an age that rarely produces such characters. Who was Hope Bourne? She was one of Exmoor’s most distinctive writers and artists, known for living alone on the moor and documenting its wildlife and landscape. A rainbow on Withypool Common

Best Alloy Wheels for Long Road Trips Across Uk The process of planning a long road trip throughout the UK creates an exciting experience which lets travellers explore the Scottish Highlands and drive along the Jurassic Coast and use the major motorways that connect the country's primary urban centres. Drivers who want to maximise their fuel efficiency and driving comfort should pay attention to how the selection of alloy wheels affects performance. It provides two key benefits because they improve your vehicle's visual appeal, and they help enhance its performance and safety features and driving experience. Why Choosing the Right Wheels Matters When preparing your car for extended journeys, investing in quality wheels can make a noticeable difference. Transform the look of your vehicle with premium alloy wheels from Tyre Safety Centre — expertly designed to combine sleek style, lasting durability, and superior performance. The right set ensures better heat dissipation during long drives and improved handling on varied road conditions, which is especially valuable when travelling across the diverse terrains found throughout the UK. Durability for UK Road Conditions Durability is a major factor to be considered. During a long journey by car, you can expect to use motorways, country roads which may be a little bumpy, and maybe even potholes. High-quality alloy wheels are usually lighter than steel alternatives, which means that less pressure is put on your suspension system, and at the same time, it results in better fuel efficiency. That is why they are perfect for drivers who make a hundred miles in one trip. What is more, their capability to resist rust is one more reason why they are a great choice given the UK's changeable weather conditions, from wet roads and coastal salt. Improved Comfort and Handling Another important factor is comfort and handling. A well-made set of alloy wheels can greatly improve your vehicle’s grip and stability, especially when driving on winding roads in places like Wales or the Lake District. Better traction leads to more control during sudden braking or in bad weather, making your journey safer and more enjoyable. For anyone planning long trips, this added reliability offers valuable peace of mind. Style and Aesthetic Appeal Style matters too, especially to drivers who care a lot about how their vehicle looks. On road trips, you’ll spot plenty of chances to take great photos, and stylish alloy wheels can make your car look even better. With today’s designs, you get the look you want and the engineering it needs, so performance never has to take a back seat. No matter if you want something sporty or more polished, you’ll find choices that match your style. Maintenance Tips for Long Trips Lastly, don't forget about maintenance. Clean and inspect your alloy wheels before heading out. Conducting regular inspections throughout your journey can help avoid little issues evolving into larger problems. Maintaining them properly not only prolongs their life but also gives you a smooth performance every time on the way. Conclusion Choosing the right alloy wheels is important when planning a long road trip across the UK. They improve handling and durability, boost style, and can even help efficiency—benefits that make your trip better overall. Choosing the right set helps ensure the journey is comfortable, safe, and memorable for the right reasons. e right set helps ensure the journey is comfortable, safe, and memorable for the right reasons.

Many of you have recently joined me on the coastal trails of the West Country with the launch of my new series, The Cornish Snapper . But while Lammoran and Hamilton are busy uncovering the grit and secrets of the modern shoreline, I have been back at the "sharp end" of the editing desk with a very different kind of story. I am thrilled to announce that a newly reimagined and significantly tightened edition of my novel, The Lemon Tree Forest , is now live. A Journey Reimagined As a journalist, I’ve spent over 50 years learning that sometimes the best way to tell a story is to know exactly what to leave out. When I first released The Lemon Tree Forest , it was a sprawling, lyrical epic. And it was very much written from the heart because all of the locations concerned - and many of the people who inspired the characters in the novel - were real. I knew them. However, I felt the "clash" between the descriptive beauty of the landscapes and the high-octane tension of the thriller elements needed resolving. I have now completed a massive edit, cutting nearly 40,000 words from the original manuscript. The result is what I call the "Director’s Cut"—a version that is leaner, faster, and far more urgent. From the Wilds of Exmoor to the Peaks of Switzerland The heart of the story remains: a sweeping adventure of love, fear, and loyalty. It begins in the lesser known hills of Exmoor, in a crumbling manor house where Sebastian seeks a quiet life of rebuilding. But the past rarely arrives gently. What follows is a sun-drenched romance on a Greek island and a reckless affair that eventually forces a desperate, heart-pounding escape across the mountains of Switzerland. At the centre of it all is Sasha—beautiful, complicated, and hunted by a powerful family who will stop at nothing to control her. Why This Version? In this new edition, the romance feels more immediate and the danger closer. By trimming the "ballast," the transitions between the lyrical atmosphere of the forest and the pulse-pounding action of the escape are now seamless. Whether you are a fan of international suspense or deep, atmospheric romance, this version has been crafted to keep you turning the pages. How to Read the New Edition I wanted to make this new version as accessible as possible for my digital readers. It is currently available as a Kindle ebook for just £1.99 — a perfect entry point for those who haven't yet ventured into the forest, or a fresh experience for those who remember the original. Click here to find The Lemon Tree Forest on Amazon Thank you for your continued support as I navigate this busy season of two very different launches. Whether you are following the investigative trail with the Snapper  or escaping into the mountains with Sebastian and Sasha, I hope you enjoy the journey. Author’s Note:  If you enjoy the book, please consider leaving a brief review on Amazon. In the world of digital publishing, those small stars make a world of difference in helping new readers find the "Forest." An imagined scene from The Lemon Tree Forest

If there’s one thing most of us will feel in desperate need of in midwinter, it is a little sunshine.  You can jump on an airliner and get it. In a centrally heated conservatory you can feel it or you can dream about it under a sun-bed - but generally speaking the rays still beam down upon a world that is chilly and grey. You can, however, have a go at making your own. By which I mean prepare some kind of food that somehow captures the essence of sunshine.  There are foods and dishes all around the hotter parts of the world which seem to encapsulate the fact that they’ve been grown or prepared with the help of masses of sunlight. Not long ago I was pondering the subject of sunshine food in the bright warm islands of the Canaries where some things served at table seem to screech sunshine up at you.  Anyone who has holidayed down there half way to the Equator will know that most savour meals are accompanied by two or sometimes three small pots containing brightly coloured substances. In our stumbling culinary English we might describe them as dips, or sauces, or even salsas - but the real name for these intensely flavoured little accompaniments is mojo - pronounced mo-ho.  And they really do add a splash of sunshine to just about everything imaginable, from dry bread to hearty stews, from Canarian salted new potatoes to grilled octopus - which happens to be my own favourite way of consuming these liquid flavour bombs.   Mojo come in all manner of colours from orange to fiery red, or green to porcelain white, depending on their ingredients. Basically all are heavily flavoured with garlic - some are mild and creamy while others are spicy, or picón as it’s known locally.  Most will contain quite a lot of olive oil - some vinegar, or orange, lemon or lime juice - local sea salt, red pepper, generous amounts of cumin, almonds, thyme, oregano, coriander along with several other spices.  Canarian islanders - being from the busiest corner of the heaving Atlantic Ocean - emigrated all over the world down the centuries and took their mojos with them to places like Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Venezuela, other parts of Latin America and many of the non-Hispanic Caribbean islands. Canarian mojos didn’t just stay in the islands—they made their way to Cuba, where their bright, zesty flavours influenced local cuisine. In Havana, you can enjoy bold dishes like ropa vieja , tostones , and moros y cristianos , and no trip is complete without sampling the world-famous Cuban cigars , whether at a tobacco farm in Viñales or a shop in the city, ideally paired with a sip of rum or cafecito. Beyond food, the island’s vibrant streets, live music, and salsa rhythms bring Cuban culture to life, making every meal and moment feel like a taste of sunshine. But back at home in the islands most Canarian families have their own recipe for mojo - and let me say right away that the fresh homemade offerings are vastly superior to the jarred, industrially-made, versions served in many of the tourist restaurants. I was on a walking tour of Lanzarote with my friends from Ramblers Worldwide Holidays, and the beauty of this was the fact that we reached remote villages high in the hills or along lonely coasts, well away from the main visitor centres. The little restaurants and bars where we stopped for late lunches or tapas were more likely to bring us homemade dishes accompanied by mamma’s or granny’s favourite award-winning mojos.  The saucy offerings can be hugely variable in flavour, spiciness and texture. For example, there is a creamy garlicky almond mojo which is often used to accompany roasted meat. Canarian saffron is another favourite ingredient - apparently mojos made with it are often served alongside fried cheese. The wonderful thing is that, unlike so many holiday sunshine foods which do not travel well to freezing old Blighty, mojos made here can taste just as good as those found in the remote mountain restaurants and bars of Lanzarote. What you need are fresh good quality ingredients and one of those small food processors which are much better for making tiny amounts of liquid mixes than their big brothers where you end up having to make a minimum of half a pint. Having said that, many of the oil and vinegar based mojos will last in jars kept in the fridge for weeks or even months.  The secret is to experiment around the basic theme, adding whatever flavourings take your fancy. Even the most basic of mojos will add real life and sunshine to end of British winter stodgy stews and roasts that somehow require a kick up their lacklustre backsides. My stolid beef casserole this week suddenly became so exciting I thought it capable of leaping off the plate to dance the South American tango…  Basic Red Mojo  Bulb of best garlic you can find, 1 red chilli, 1 teaspoon of cumin freshly ground, 1 teaspoon of paprika, 4 tablespoons of vinegar, 10 tablespoons of olive oil, sea salt to taste. Peel the garlic cloves and take out any green cores which you find developing at this time of year. Put all the ingredients into the mini-food-processor and whizz into a thick paste. This can be diluted with a splash of water - or better still the juice of an orange or a couple of tangerines.  Basic Green Mojo  1 green peppers, small bunch of fresh coriander or parsley, 4 cloves of garlic, 2 teaspoons sea salt, 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar, 4 tablespoons olive oil 1 teaspoon cumin, 1 slice of white bread. Again, simply bung the lot into the mini-food-processor and whizz for 30 seconds. I add blanched ground almonds and lime juice if I am going to serve this mojo with fish. Another variation on the green theme mojo verde uses avocado - a mix which I think goes very well with salty traditional British cheeses like a strong cheddar.

One of the best towers or cities I visited in 2019 was Funcahl, capital of Madeira.  It is a truly magical city and one of the best ways of exploring it is to go on a food tour, like the half-day adventures around the old town of Funchal led by the enigmatic Sophia Maul of Wine Tours Madeira (www.winetoursmadeira.com). We ate and drank our way around the island capital one very long lunchtime, enjoying a snifter of old fashioned Madeira wine in the historic HQ of an English family’s wine house one minute, tasting a sensational handmade chocolate or two (flavoured with tropical island fruit) the next, then pushing our way through the crowded central market filled with the most dazzling fruit and vegetables stalls to be found anywhere in Europe. After that it was down a cobbled side-street to a restaurant where we consumed the local version of tapas known locally as “petiscos”. Next was the main course in yet another cobbled street - this one narrow and dark but full of history and character. Here we shared a couple of plates - one of which I intend making soon. It was a pork dish in which the meat had been marinated in a mix of wine, vinegar and herbs for at least 24 hours. You’d expect such a dish could be overly vinegary but the additional orange juice and peel gave the ultra-tender meat a balanced richness.  Next we stopped at a small old fashioned grocery shop where the proprietors sold me some of their home mixed spices before serving us a glass of poncha - which is the island’s preferred poison. Strong and rejuvenating, this mix of aguardente de cana (local rum), honey and lemon juice is a great pick-me-up as long as you keep it to a single glass or two.  We ended the tour in what looked like an old fashioned English tearoom next to the port, where we drank a tisane made of the herb which gives Funchal its name (fennel) and slice of excellent Madeira cheesecake. Each night our hosts took us out to some of the best restaurants on the island like the Hostel Santa Maria in the old town, Estalagem da Ponta do Sol dramatically perched on the top of a high cliff and the amazing Nini Design Centre at the top of a converted warehouse in the modern port. In these pleasant watering holes we enjoyed treats like the season’s local tuna catch in all its fresh glory and the delicious scabbard fish, which is a speciality. This black and ugly creature lives thousands of metres down in the deeps, so that no one has ever seen a live scabbard fish - but they take the trouble to catch it by hook and line because it has a tasty firm texture that reminded me of monkfish, another dweller of the deep.

Discover Cornwall Beyond the Beaches: A Hidden Gem Walk Through the Luxulyan Valley Cornwall may be famed for its sun-drenched beaches and dramatic coastlines, but inland lies a different kind of beauty—one that's mysterious, lush, and steeped in history. If you’re seeking a truly immersive walking experience in Cornwall away from the crowds, the Luxulyan Valley walk delivers peace, heritage, and natural splendour in equal measure. The Luxulyan Valley Walk: A Hidden Treasure in Inland Cornwall A Lesser-Known Walking Route with Rich Rewards Forget the main roads and seaside rush—head inland from Par, just off the A390, and you’ll find Ponts Mill , the starting point of an unforgettable circular hike through the Luxulyan Valley and along the Saint's Way . This area is a designated World Heritage Site and one of Cornwall’s best kept secrets . Walk Overview: Facts at a Glance Route: Ponts Mill → Treffry Viaduct → Luxulyan Village → Saint's Way via Prideaux Woods → St Blazey → Ponts Mill Distance: Approx. 7 miles (11.3 km) Trail Conditions: Sometimes muddy; moderate difficulty Recommended Map: Ordnance Survey Explorer 107 Type: Circular walk Highlights: Treffry Viaduct, industrial heritage, woodland trails, hill fort, distant views of the Cornish Alps Through the Ancient Woods of the Luxulyan Valley Begin your walk near the quaintly named “Porcupine” and cross into the Luxulyan Valley —a wooded ravine full of birdsong and beauty, especially during autumn when the leaves turn to gold. The trail runs northwest through ancient oak and beech woods, passing remnants of Cornwall’s industrial past. Treffry Viaduct: Cornwall’s Industrial Icon A key highlight is the Treffry Viaduct —a breathtaking granite structure towering 89 feet high and stretching 650 feet in length. Built between 1839 and 1842 by Joseph Treffry , this historic feat of engineering was designed to carry both water and horse-drawn tramways to power local mines and quarries. The viaduct’s 10 grand arches and massive granite base make it one of Cornwall’s most important industrial monuments. You can even walk across the top of it—though that requires a short detour up the valley sides. Discover the Village of Luxulyan After following the trail under the viaduct, you’ll emerge from the trees and head up a quiet country lane to reach the charming village of Luxulyan . The village lends its name to luxulyanite , a rare Cornish granite. Don't miss the ancient church dedicated to Saints Ciricius and Julitta , possibly built from this very stone. From here, pick up the Saint’s Way , a historic pilgrim path that leads south through open countryside with sweeping views of the Cornish Alps —the strange white peaks formed from china clay mining spoil. Prideaux Woods and the Hill Fort Above Warren Wood The route skirts the impressive Prideaux Estate and enters Prideaux Woods , offering glimpses of manicured landscapes reminiscent of the English shires—an unexpected and graceful contrast to rugged moorland or coast. Further along, the path passes an ancient hill fort above Warren Wood , another reminder of the region’s long and layered history. Final Stretch: Returning to Ponts Mill After descending into St Blazey, there's a short paved section along the Tywardreath Highway , followed by a final quiet lane leading back to Ponts Mill, where your journey began. While this specific loop offers plenty, there are countless variations of this walk, each revealing a different facet of this magical valley. Practical Tips and Suggestions Footwear: Sturdy walking boots recommended, especially after rain Best Season: Autumn for colour, spring for wildflowers Facilities: Limited – bring water and snacks Alternative Routes: Several – the Friends of Luxulyan Valley website offers great suggestions: www.luxulyanvalley.co.uk If you’ve discovered a better variation of the walk or want to share your own experience, feel free to email me at walks@martinhesp.co.uk

I first did this walk more than 25 years ago and took the following photos on a very early form of digital camera—which is why the quality of some images is not so good - but, believe me, the views around this hike are absolutely superb. The walk is based in the attractive environs of the strangely named village of Mawnan Smith, and fits well with Hesp's patent recipe for perfect walking: i.e. you can't beat pottering around a peninsula. The peninsula in question is a ragged affair situated at the watery junction where Falmouth Bay meets the mouth of the Helford River. Starting the Helford Passage Coastal Path Walk I was recently at the excellent Ferry Boat Inn at Helford Passage for a dose of refreshment, and found myself reluctant to leave the waterside - it was all a-twinkle, as if the very heavens had plunged in for a dip. Far too cold, of course, for humans to immerse themselves in the sea - but certainly warm enough for us to bathe ourselves in the intense sunlight. Planning the Rosemullion Head Walk with Ordnance Survey Map Reaching for Ordnance Survey Explorer Map 103, I soon planned a route along the coast - a sort of lasso-shaped walk out along Mawnan's twin-horned peninsula. It's all very simple - I merely followed the coast path east out of the Passage and kept going until I passed Rosemullion Head. Then it was up over the hill, down past the church, and back to Helford's shore again. Discovering Polgwidden Cove and WWII History The first thing the path encounters east of our start point, is the strange but beautiful Polgwidden Cove. Strange because there are signs that once mankind was very busy here - which he was: 7,500 American troops embarked for the Normandy Invasion from this cove. They were off to take Omaha Beach, and it was no joyride - within the first three hours of fighting they lost a staggering 83 percent of the fighting force in casualties. There's a memorial to these brave men just inside Trebah Gardens, which run down a small coombe to the beach. This magical wonderland is to be the subject of a special article elsewhere on this site. Suffice to say that Trebah is open to the public daily, for a well-worthwhile entry fee. Passing Glendurgan Gardens and Enjoying the Helford Estuary Views Onwards and alongwards - past another great garden, this time National Trust-owned Glendurgan - also well worth the entry fee. We however, continue along the best value thing in Britain - the absolutely free coast path. It rounds Grebe Rock to enter the little bay at Porth Saxon. It's all very lovely indeed - in fact I can safely say there is no other stretch of the coastline like it. There's something Mediterranean about this littoral - which is not surprising really, given its sheltered south-facing aspect. Both gardens mentioned have won fame for growing plants it would be impossible to nurture elsewhere in these cold and windy isles. Exploring Toll Point and Helford River Vistas Beyond the tiny bay of Porthallack we climb into the fields and ascend around Toll Point. This is where you get the very best views of the Helford River - you can see up the estuary to where the Polwheveral Creek joins the main stream at Groyne Point. If you go on a sunny summer's day all this will be packed with people messing about in boats, but the day we were there not one maritime soul was taking advantage of the stiff breeze. Walking the Wild Cornish Cliffs Towards Mawnan Church Now, suddenly, we are away from the soft, Cote d'Azur style coastline of the river, and into proper Cornish wilderness. Rough cliffs and furzy downs rise up above Mawnan Shear and Parson's Beach as we make our way north-east towards the church. Legends and History Around St Maunanus Church Real 'Daphne Du Maurier Country' this - a place of moonlit trysts, smugglers and privateers. The old church dedicated to St Maunanus stands just inland of the steep, sea-facing woods - and the whole locale has an altogether mysterious air. And it's not all fantasy - there really were swashbuckling deeds of derring-do in these parts. Take, for instance, the local legend, always referred to as The Fine and Brave. The tale occurred during the French Wars of the 18th century when the women of Mawnan Smith took to their heels upon hearing that an invasion force had arrived down in one of the coves. Not to run away - but to meet the French with all the force they could muster. Down the lane they went, pitchforks in hand - their petticoats flying in the wind. Red petticoats, as it happened - which was fortunate because the French mistook the women for a troop of Redcoat soldiers, and scarpered as fast as their sails would take them. Following the Coastal Path to Rosemullion Head The coast path weaves through the wood by the church to issue out onto the cliffs above Shag Rock. One day I'm going to count all the Shag Rocks off Cornwall - I bet there are hundreds - anyway, we're heading north-east again along a particularly rough bit of coast that eventually takes us to Rosemullion Head - a handsome little headland which affords superb views of Falmouth Bay and the distant mouth of the River Fal. Returning Inland via Gatamala Cove and Mawnan Church Fortunately for prosperity, much of the land covered by this walk (including Rosemullion Head) is owned by the National Trust. A few hundred yards west we come to a place called Gatamala Cove and inland of this there's a footpath cutting through Trust land, which we follow to the top of the hill, where we reach the road. It's not busy with traffic, or at least it wasn't when I was there, which is just as well because we must turn left to walk down the road - back to Mawnan Church. Actually, I doubt if it ever gets too busy as the lane doesn't head anywhere but to the church, a few houses and a farm. Enjoying the Wildflower Meadows and Returning to Helford Passage Just to the right of the car-park next to the church, a footpath introduces the walker to a number of meadows that enjoy what must be one of the most sheltered spots in England. I suppose the little valley might get a little blustery in a westerly gale, but the day we were there it was primrose heaven - you could have sunbathed amid the banks of yellow flowers - yet just a stone's throw away you'd have frozen to death. The path eventually meets the shore at the aforementioned Porthallack - so now it's simply a matter of retracing our footsteps west along the coast to Helford Passage. Summary of the Helford River Circular Walk Not the longest, wildest or most adventuresome walk in the West Country - but a fine and beautiful saunter nevertheless. And all within a few miles of one of Cornwall's biggest towns. Fact File Martin stayed at the excellent Budkock Vean Hotel while on his recent trip and there will be a special article about the hotel coming soon. Basic Hike: from Helford Passage east along coast path to eventually reach Rosemullion Head - then inland to Mawnan Church and down a footpath to regain the coast path via which we return to the Passage. Recommended map: Ordnance Survey Explorer 103 - The Lizard. Distance and going: about four-and-a-half miles, easy going.

Discover Cornwall’s Hidden Coastal Gem Just Minutes from Plymouth As the 15th biggest city in England you wouldn’t think Plymouth could boast such a thing as a secret seaside – but the old maritime community knows a thing or two about the sea and, rather cleverly, keeps a beautiful stretch of coast very much to itself. It’s not that secret as most Plymouthians have some kind of relationship with Whitsand Bay – even though it’s across the border in Cornwall, they pop over on the Torpoint Ferry and head for their very own salty backyard. And very lovely it is too. But the great sweep of shoreline that bends west from Rame Head to Looe Island is, for the rest of us, one of the least known bits of the Cornish littoral. Cornwall’s “Forgotten Peninsula” and Its Secluded Coastline I say that because despite its proximity to Plymouth, Cornwall’s extreme south-east corner is often described as the county’s “forgotten peninsula”. That’s partly because it is a bit of a fiddle to get to – most tourists just drive on by once they’ve crossed the Tamar Bridge and don’t think of turning left down the serpentine roads that wiggle and wind in order to avoid massive St Germans Creek and its attendant tributaries. Next comes a high ridge, crowned at one point by the oddly named village of Crafthole – and then there’s the sea. The big, wide, sparkling, blue expanse of sea that is Whitsand Bay. A Coastline of Fortresses, Chalets, and Maritime History Fortresses, old and not so old, are a feature of this coast – though none could fire a shot in anger nowadays. The only bang you’ll hear, apart from the ones resounding from a small arms firing range, is the knock of the auctioneer’s gavel as yet another luxury apartment with sea views goes under the hammer. The same property auctioneer might also sell the occasional chalet that comes onto the market – for this is a coast of chalets . They began to appear along the slopes of Treninnow Cliff between the two world wars and originally were modest little hand-built holiday homes for working-class Plymouthians who couldn’t afford to go further afield. The Unique Charm of Treninnow Cliff Chalets “Who would want to?” That’s what you’d ask if you’d been there on the fresh, sparkling, sunlit day last week when I passed by. Indeed, today these modest home-built “huts” swap hands for in excess of £500,000. Out of my league but worth every penny, I’d say – although this fabulous, scattered community of wooden chalets has been threatened in the past by local authorities wishing to “clean the coast up”. I’ve also heard rumours of ground rents becoming so expensive that some of the older families who’ve held onto their wondrous maritime legacy could be priced out. Which would be a shame. I think the shanty-town feel of this community adds wonderfully to this big empty stretch of coast – indeed it is the nearest thing England has to certain sections of the Californian littoral . If you’re ever in San Francisco, go 30 miles north to Stinson Beach and you’ll see what I mean. Secret Beaches Beyond Portwrinkle and Eglarooze Cliff Anyway, given all this human attention you might be inclined to agree with a Plymouth-born colleague of mine who said: “There aren’t any secret seasides along that bit of coast.” Apart from the fact that this entire bay is unknown to most West Country folk, I know what he means. To an extent. But even beach-loving Plymouthians don’t reach the parts that this Secret Seasides series manages to find. I’ve tried to avoid using the phrase “where gulls go to be lonely” in this series – so in this case will adapt it to “where sheep go to be lonely” – for that is the only land-based mammal you’ll find if you go on west past the Treninnow Cliff chalet community , beyond Crafthole and the tiny harbour hamlet of Portwrinkle , and find your way out along Eglarooze Cliff . The sheep are being used to graze off the steep slopes above the sea-cliffs – and the herbage does need a bit of a seeing-to, for sure. I nearly ruined a perfectly good suit as I clambered down the slopes this week (don’t ask why I was wearing a suit on such an unlikely adventure) – but I did manage to descend to what must be some of the most unvisited beaches within 40 miles of Plymouth. Remote Beaches Under Cargloth Cliffs And there, under Cargloth Cliffs – just inland from a remarkable rock stack called The Brawn , near a place known as Beaks Horn – I lolled for half an hour eating my midday sandwiches on a beach that no one except for kayakers can have visited for years. There are a series of four beaches between Britain Point (just west of Portwrinkle) and the bigger headland at Cargloth and I cannot, in the interests of health and safety, recommend that you visit any of them. But if you do, I will promise you this: in no way will you be able to imagine you are just five miles as the seagull flies from the region’s largest city.

Natural stone pavements at Kilve beach It is arguably the most varied stretch of coast anywhere in Britain – or anywhere in Europe for that matter. The mighty littoral that caps this peninsula to the north begins at low lying shores of the Somerset Levels and climbs to England’s highest sea-cliffs before it eventually swings south to embrace some of the UK’s finest surfing beaches. Our journey along this extraordinary shore begins at the mouth of the River Parrett. Nothing much happens at lonely Steart, perched improbably on the flatlands by the muddiest estuary in the region. With its silos and chicken-sheds, Steart seems to be a village at the end of the world – and at the end of two fantastic rights-of-way: the West Somerset Coast Path and the River Parrett Trail. A great empty beach stretches around to Stolford where my old friend, the late Brendan Sellick, the mud-horse fisherman, used to make a living by going out across the deadly mudflats of Bridgwater Bay on his weird wooden contraption to catch unbelievably delicious shrimps. Travelling west, the coast between Hinkley Point nuclear power station and the village of St Audries is extraordinary to say the least. Tortured rock strata bends and twists in the cliffs, and vast limestone “pavements” stretch seawards in huge curves as if they were installed by artistic giants from some ancient race. The area is rich in fossils and is internationally renowned as a Site of Special Scientific Interest. My old friend, the late Brendan Sellick Watchet Harbour Watchet: A Port of Enigmas and Sea Shanties Next comes Watchet, an ancient port more full of enigmas and idiosyncrasies than most. It somehow has the feel of a community that has been scooped up lock-stock-and-barrel from the industrial north of England and deposited on the West Country coast. Nevertheless, it is a place of enormous charm. It boasts the largest museum collection of flat-bottomed boats anywhere in the world and has a church named after a saint who was thanked by locals for his preachings by having his head cut off. The town is supposed to be run by an ancient organ of local authority known as a Court Leet, but members only meet once a year and only then if a secret recipe rum punch is served. Watchet is famous as the final home and resting place of Yankee Jack, the mariner who gave us such shanties and songs as 'A Rovin', 'Rio Grande', 'Shenandoah', and 'The Sailor Likes His Bottle O'. Watchet Minehead: Jurassic Forests and Submarine Secrets Past the little resort of Blue Anchor and beyond Dunster Beach, Minehead is dominated by a great bastion of hill that acts as a backdrop to the town and its harbour. It is a town of two halves—a resort that can't make up its mind whether to be a class act snuggling up to Exmoor National Park, or throw caution and candy-floss to the wind and go the way of the fish’n’chip scented cheap and cheerful. Minehead at very low tide The Minehead I love is a place of ancient Hobby Horses, antediluvian fish weirs, and historic smugglers. The harbour end of town has more history in its sea-borne finger than most ports have from the top of their slipways to the base of their groynes. How many can boast their own prehistoric submarine forest? Minehead as seen from Watchet Walk seawards at low tide from the venerable quay and you'll paddle your way to an area which is Somerset's answer to Jurassic Park. Bits of wood and tree stump lie about the place like victims of some fairly recent flood. But when this forest was growing, sabre-toothed tigers and woolly mammoths were walking between the trees. A low tide event at Minehead Hurlestone Point The Wild Exmoor Littoral North Hill trails west as if it were specially designed to protect West Somerset from the ravages of the sea. Far below, the ramparts of Hurlestone Point introduce the sublime curve of Porlock Bay. The old shingle ridge was breached a few years ago, and now a couple of hundred acres are metamorphosing into what has been described as the UK’s fastest-changing environment. View across Porlock Bay from above Hurlestone Point At the far west end of the bay, picturesque Porlock Weir squats under the mighty tree-covered hills like a port in a dream. Now we are into the Exmoor coast proper—there is no town or village along this perpendicular littoral for a dozen or more miles. There is, though, a tiny hamlet containing Culbone Church, the smallest complete church in Great Britain. The nave is just 21 feet by 12 feet. High above sits Ash Farm, where the poet Coleridge may or may not have written Kubla Khan before being interrupted by the famous “person from Porlock.” Culbone Church Lynmouth: The Town on the Torrent After the wilderness of the North Devon Foreland, you enter the vast amphitheatre of Lynmouth Bay. Lynton and Lynmouth enjoy some of the most panoramic views in the West Country, yet the place has witnessed both life-crushing disaster and life-saving courage. Its name gives a clue to its fate. Llynna comes from the Anglo-Saxon and means torrent. The day of reckoning came on August 15th, 1952, when more than 90 million tons of water cascaded down the steep narrow valleys, causing the Lynmouth Flood Disaster where 34 people lost their lives. View across Lynmouth Bay Go there on a pleasant spring day, and you will find it hard to imagine such scenes. The vertiginous wonders of the Valley of Rocks and the famous funicular cliff railway make it one of the most visit-able places in the West Country. The Giants of the North Devon Coast Past the tallest cliffs in England we come to the two hangmen—the Great Hangman and the Little Hangman. These hills dominate the coast just east of Combe Martin, the longest village in England, once famous for fragrant strawberries and gleaming silver. Little Hangman hiding the Great Hangman near Combe Martin Travelling west, we pass Watermouth Bay, which turns into a kind of fjord. Once an isolated place beloved by free-traders, it’s said that in 1785, a tidesman found a 96-gallon barrel of rum here but was unable to make an arrest. Finally, we reach Ilfracombe, capital of the west Exmoor coast. The dramatic, cliff-bordered arena around the harbour wouldn't look out of place on the Amalfi Coast. Our journey concludes at Bull Point, North Devon’s big corner, where the Bristol Channel finally gives up and heads south into the Atlantic maelstrom. North Devon coat towards Ilfracombe What is special about the Somerset coast? The Somerset coast is famous for its dramatic tidal range, extensive mudflats, ancient rock formations, fossil-rich cliffs and excellent wildlife habitats. Where are the ancient pavements on the Somerset coast? Several stretches of the Somerset coastline reveal remarkable limestone and rocky pavements exposed by tides and erosion, making them popular with geologists and walkers. Is the Somerset coast good for walking? Yes. The Somerset section of the South West Coast Path offers spectacular scenery ranging from Exmoor's high cliffs to the Bristol Channel's tidal landscapes. Why are Somerset's tides so high? The funnel shape of the Bristol Channel creates one of the world's highest tidal ranges, exposing vast mudflats at low tide. When is the best time to visit the Somerset coast? Spring and autumn are ideal for walking and wildlife, while summer offers long days for exploring beaches and coastal villages.

The Exmoor Mystery: The Lamb Of God There's an Exmoor tradition which, in days of yore, would see the people of the high lonely villages climbing Dunkery at Easter in the hopes of seeing the Lamb Of God. Now, I'm not exactly sure what the Lamb Of God is, but I do know that Exmoor's highest hill was venue for this phenomenon and that there is a place called Easter Hill on the flanks of the great furzy down. Why not check out Walks on Exmoor - click here I've always understood that the Lamb was some sort of apparition which appeared in the sky – a parhelia perhaps – where a copycat sun is formed by ice-crystals forming high in the atmosphere. The appearance of two suns (and I've seen this in Cornwall) is enough to get anyone thinking of God. Why Do We Eat Lamb at Easter? But anyway, I was mulling over this the other day when the thought struck me: why lamb? Moreover, why is lamb regarded as a traditional Easter food – and why, indeed, are eggs – let alone Easter bunnies? The Ancient Blessing of Lambs Well, like all these things, it goes way back into the depths of time. An ancient prayer for the blessing of lambs can be found in a seventh-century sacramentary in the Benedictine monastery at Bobbio, in Italy. Two hundred years after the old monks penned it, Rome had adopted the prayer, and from then on the main feature of the Pope's Easter dinner for many centuries was roast lamb. Spring Equinox and Middle Eastern Lamb Traditions But the lamb's link with Easter time – or, at least, with the Spring equinox – probably goes much further back than that. The people of the Middle East were chomping away on the stuff at this time of year centuries before Christ came onto the scene and, of course, lamb still features heavily in many Middle Eastern cuisines. West Country Spring Lamb: A Local Delicacy All this suits me fine, as lamb is one of my favourite morsels. And I believe that we folk of the West Country are particularly fortunate in having some of the best lamb in Europe on our doorsteps. Actually, I prefer eating it later in the year when the meat has developed more flavour thanks to the animal feeding on rich summer grasses, but I am certainly not going to pass up the chance of a traditional Spring lamb roast this coming weekend. Cooking Lamb for Easter: Garlic, Rosemary, and Perfect Roasting It's amazing what a little puncturing with garlic and rosemary will do to add pizzazz to the flavour. And, by-the-way, many people (including me) prefer the flavour of the shoulder to the leg, believing it to be slightly sweeter. But let's not quibble over the size and shape of the cut – instead let us consider whether the meat should be cooked hot and fast, or low and slow. I go for the former as I like lamb to be succulent and very pink. My wife hates this, saying it isn't cooked, and she prefers a long slow roast where the joint is placed in the bottom oven of an Aga or some other slow-cooker for the better part of a day. Copious quantities of Modena vinegar help make this meat to remember – the stuff literally melts in your mouth and the flavour rating goes off the Richter scale. The History of Easter Eggs: Symbol of Spring and Rebirth What about the ubiquitous Easter egg? Does that also have a history stretching from the dawn of time? Certainly does. Like all these traditional big-occasion foods – it's got a lot more to do with the season of the year than anything religion could throw at it. Ancient Fertility Symbols and the Origins of the Easter Egg But religion was always very good at adopting the old ways. The origin of the Easter egg is based on the fertility lore of the early Indo-European races. To them it was astonishing to witness a live creature emerging from a seemingly dead object. Not surprisingly, the egg became a symbol of Spring. In Persia people used to present each other with eggs at the Spring equinox. Easter Egg Traditions Around the World Since then the Easter egg custom has undergone all sorts of developments in various European countries. In Britain, eggs were given to servants at Easter – King Edward I had 450 eggs boiled, dyed or covered with gold leaf, which he distributed to the members of the royal household on Easter Day. The Syrians and Greeks present each other with red eggs to honour the blood of Christ. Some Slavic peoples design elaborate patterns of gold and silver, while in Austria artists make striking patterns by fastening tiny plants around the eggs, which leave a white impression on the shells after they're boiled. Poles and Ukrainians decorate eggs with plain colours or simple designs and call them krasanki. The Easter Bunny: From Pagan Symbol to Modern Icon Strangest of all Easter food customs though, must be the Easter bunny. Once again, the origin lies in pre-Christian fertility lore. Quite simple really: the rabbit was the most fertile animal known to our forefathers. And perhaps because of this, the Christian custom adoption committee laid off the Easter bunny and it never was given a religious significance. The Bunny and His Eggs: A Curious Folklore However, the bunny did, rather mysteriously, become legendary for producing Easter eggs – and if you believe that, you'll believe anything. Way back in the Middle Ages people were writing about the Easter bunny and his eggs. A German book written in 1572, states: "Do not worry if the bunny escapes you; should we miss his eggs, then we shall cook the nest." Modern Easter Fun: Egg Rolling and Painted Shells We live near a particularly steep field and a great number of younger kids turn up to paint their eggs and then hurl them down the grassy slope. This is the only time of the year when I buy factory eggs – as it seems a shame to waste good free-range food in such a ruinous fashion. But it is fun, and I never cease to be amazed at how many times the eggs can go rolling off without being broken. A Seasonal Recipe: Steamed Spinach and Egg For some reason, I can never think about eggs without wishing to eat one. And so, without more ado, I am going to repair to my vegetable garden, pick some fresh spinach leaves, wash them, place them in a steamer, steam them for a minute, indent them with the back of a spoon, crack a fresh egg into the green bowl, steam for another minute or two – and then eat the results with salt and black pepper. Nothing could be more simple and the resulting dish is as Easter flavoured as you can get. The pure taste of Spring.

Isles of Scilly Low Tide Pop-Up Discover Local Food and Drink Producers in the Isles of Scilly Imagine a place in the British Isles that boasts not only an unusual number of local food and drink producers, but individuals who are all very much in touch with the natural environment which surrounds them. It’s a little corner of heaven where you are likely to come across artisan producers down most leafy lanes and around every hedgerow. All of them are making delicious forms of food and drink, and all of it is inspired by the glorious local landscape Mother Nature has provided. I spent a couple of days in such a place this week, although I did need the help of a helicopter to get there… Loading ingredients onto the off-island of St Martins Why the Isles of Scilly Are Called the Fortunate Isles Sometime after the Victorians started taking seaside holidays an early marketing genius dubbed the Scillonian archipelago The Fortunate Isles , a label which the islands enjoyed for decades. And as I returned aboard the Penzance helicopter this week, it was the title I scribbled at the top of my notes. The Fortunate Isles indeed. Especially when it comes to food and drink. A Culinary Renaissance in the Isles of Scilly Words I never dreamed I’d be writing in association with the Isles of Scilly 25 years ago when I started visiting the islands for these newspapers. Back then, as many readers will know, the food offer on Scilly was dire. In an archipelago surrounded by some of the richest waters in Europe, you couldn’t even buy fresh fish - it was all imported frozen from the mainland, along with just about everything else. Which, interestingly, was a very different situation from the time in 1976 when I was lucky enough to spend the summer camping on St Agnes. We were almost entirely self-sufficient, happily limited to food grown on the island or caught in its waters. Fishing for sprats on the isles of Scilly Small-Scale Producers Making Big Waves Now the wheel has turned again. The Scillies are back and boasting an authentic and delicious food and drink scene - and I write about it both this week and next because the South West area covered by the two newspapers which carry these articles is home to the majority of people who visit the islands each year. And the opening paragraph is accurate - you really can meet artisan producers down just about every lane and across every hedgerow, and they are making delicious stuff. Looking across St Mary's Harbour, central hub of the Scillies Supporting Sustainable Food in Cornwall and the Isles of Scilly I was invited to visit by Ruth Huxley, of Cornwall Food and Drink and director at the Great Cornish Food Store, which has obtained funding to run an initiative designed at bolstering the food, drink, farming, and fishing industries of both Cornwall and the Isles of Scilly. “Basically, the programme aims to foster sustainable growth, enhance product quality, and expand market reach for local producers,” said Ruth, who took a group of experts out to Scilly this week so they could see for themselves the remarkable food and drink renaissance, and offer professional guidance and advice. As one of them said after two days island-hopping and meeting producers… “Their commitment to ‘island flavours’ is impressive and is a fantastic selling point. Their emphasis on local ingredients, as opposed to imports, struck a chord - and their desire to share the true taste of Scilly came across loud and clear.” Shellfish is probably the best known delicacy to be found in the Isles of Scilly Micro-Scale Farms and the Beauty of Local It has to be emphasised that, as with everything on the islands, all this is carried out on a micro-scale. The largest farm we visited was 14 acres, big for Scilly. But they say small is beautiful - and when it comes to food production, it certainly is. Because everything has to be done very well indeed if you are going to make a living from such small acreages. Not only that, but you’ll need to be hugely inventive and have the ability to utilise everything and anything you have to hand. Fudge, Flowers, and Flavour on Bryher and St Agnes At Veronica Farm , for instance, fudge-maker Izzy Tibbs makes use of the honey produced by Bryher bees which buzz around the succulent plants she sells. It has a distinct flavour and aroma. Izzy Tibbs of Veronica Farm, Bryher On St Agnes, Grace Windridge-Hicks and her husband Aidan are not only growing all manner of plants on Westward Farm to flavour their gin, they’re also picking wild herbs and gorse flowers to create interesting and delicious drinks. Vineyard Innovation and Circular Cider on St Martins On St Martins, Holly Robbins and James Faulconbridge use squeezed red grape skins from their wine-making to bolster the colour and flavour of a cider they produce. Holly Robbins and James Faulconbridge Island Fish Back on Bryher, the Pender family who run Island Fish win awards for their sustainable practices all of which showcase the abundance of the surrounding seas. Nothing goes to waste - the amazingly fresh lobsters and crabs are cooked and served plain and simple (which is just how they should be) or are turned into delicious dishes by the family team. Sea Salt, Spirits and Single-Malt Whisky on St Martins Ingenuity is another notable and essential ingredient of the archipelago’s food and drink scene. Andrew Walder, of SC Dogs Distillery on St Martins, is a prime example. Having developed a remarkable business harvesting sea-salt from the ultra clear waters in Higher Town Bay, Andrew has now developed an impressive distilling operation (in which he distils from scratch) and he is even growing his own barley for future single-malt whisky production. Andrew Walder, of SC Dogs Distillery on St Martins Scilly Cider: A Model of Self-Sufficiency on St Mary’s Zoe and Chris Jenkins, of Scilly Cider in St Marys, cultivate their own rootstock, demonstrating a self-sufficiency born of necessity. Indeed, they are spearheading an amazing new cider industry that is fast evolving in three of the five inhabited islands. Resourcefulness is a hallmark of island life, as is a strong sense of community. You’ll find producers supporting one another and collaborating on initiatives. Distiller Andrew, for example, makes an impressive apple brandy for Zoe and Chris using their cider as a base. Zoe and Chris Jenkins, of Scilly Cider on St Marys Zero-Waste Cider and Homegrown Innovation It is the only thing the Jenkins do not do for themselves. Everything else in their cider operation is carried out in-house… “From growing rootstock to grafting trees - from planting the trees to picking the fruit by hand - from pressing the fruit to the ageing, bottling, pasteurising… It all stays on the farm,” says Zoe. “Even pulp from the press goes back around the trees as a fertiliser, so there’s zero waste.” Retired marine engineer Chris’s family have been working the St Marys farm for multiple generations. You can tell he’s a person good with his hands because the immaculate cider-making shed, and the farm’s new tasting-centre (which is taking shape as we speak), are basically home-built and are shining examples of their kind. I know many a West Country cider-maker who’d turn green with envy. Fisherman Mark Pender of Bryher From Holidaymakers to Heritage: New Roots in Old Soil Many of the people we met are from old Scillonian families, some are not. Holly and James, for example, bought St. Martin’s Vineyard and Winery (from a local couple who’d set it up in 1996) five years ago while on holiday. They made the instant decision to stop working for a large tractor company and an eco-consultancy, and make the move - a decision they have never regretted. They now run what must be one of the most eco-friendly and sustainable businesses in the region. Sea Salt to Solar Energy: Genius at Work on the Isles of Scilly Just up the lane, Andrew Walder is a veritable genius when it comes to self-sufficiency. Like a lot of born-and-bred islanders, he left for a time (to spend 15 years in the Merchant Navy) but returned home brimming with ideas - and the knowledge, energy and skills to turn them into a reality. The fact that Andrew learned how to distil from scratch, and now holds a licence which allows him to produce his own fabulous brands of rum, is hugely impressive in a world in which most distillers buy-in industrially made spirit that they then flavour with botanicals etc. But the man who brought sea-salt harvesting to the islands has gone one step further and is now preparing to make England’s first single-malt whisky with barley grown in his own fields and malted in-house. He also has a nearly completed new tasting centre and soon the whole lot will be run with the help of solar energy and a unique “sand battery” system. Scilly’s Smallest Food Producers: Baked Delights from the Garden Gate Some producers think big (ish), others are content to keep things small. Young mum, Zoe Dan, bakes delicious cakes and pastries, which she sells from a little honesty box at the end of her garden on Bryher. If you’re lucky, you can buy a slice of the local Scilly “tattie-bread” from her “Bake Box”. Zoe Dan, bakes delicious cakes and pastries, Isles of Scilly 'tattie bread' Adapting and Evolving: The Secret to Island Food Success I was struck by something the dynamic Grace Windridge-Hicks told me… “You have to be really flexible to survive on Scilly. That sounds dramatic, but you are constantly changing. We started off as a potato farm, then we were a flower farm and then Aidan’s mum and dad started distilling local plants and herbs to make soap and other products. Now we do the gin and we’ve got our own very popular amaretto. “You are constantly evolving and working out what works, and what doesn’t,” said Grace. “As long as you keep your mindset flexible, you will survive.” Taste of Scilly 2025: A Food and Drink Festival Like No Other If this article has whetted your appetite for a visit, you might be interested in Scilly’s 11-day annual food and drink celebration in September. Taste of Scilly features local producers and eateries from around the islands and is designed to showcase their wares. One producer told me: “The festival offers a great way to experience a diverse array of events and activities, from sailing on a yacht spotting wildlife while savouring morning tea and cake, to indulging in sunset lobster nights. There’ll be pop-up dining events where locally crafted tapas are sure to inspire. You can enjoy a picnic on St. Martin’s before kayaking to the Eastern Isles - or embark on tours and tastings that explore beehives and honey, and locally distilled spirits.” A typical "honesty farm shop" on the Scillies Experience the Unique Low Tide Pop-Up on the Isles of Scilly And, of course, there’s Scilly’s most unique event - the Low Tide Pop-Up which, because of tidal conditions, can only be staged twice a year. I’ve been twice and can report that the word “unique” is, for once, spot-on. It takes place when spring tides are low enough to allow you to walk dry-shod between the islands of Tresco and Bryher. For just a couple of hours hundreds of people gather on sands which are usually deep beneath the waves to enjoy all manner of seafood and other delights. 👉 Check out https://www.visitislesofscilly.com Visitors enjoying the low-tide pop-up between Tresco and Bryher

Around about 30 years ago I did a lot of flying about the place in various aircraft, hanging out of open doors filming. You wouldn’t do it today - you’d just get yourself a drone. And it would be a lot more steady and manoeuvrable - and far far less expensive - and the quality thanks to modern technology would be much much better. But it wouldn’t be such fun. On this occasion we somehow managed to persuade a crew from the old SAR (Search and Rescue) flight at Chivenor to take us around Exmoor one afternoon. in fact, they took us on several flights as part of their training. This is just a quick taster of the footage but if people are interested I will digitise more and put it up here… To read about our Exmoor walks click here