Someone asked how I cold possibly stay in lockdown for more than 60 days. These photos perhaps provide part of the answer - I took them all on a 30 minute dog-walk just now. If you live somewhere like this perhaps you don’t need to be belting around the place looking for somewhere else to go. To read about our Exmoor walks click here What would we do without red campion? Of all the hedgerow flowers we see in the West Country, this delightful little pink marvel must be one of the most prolific and most constant.  I say constant because very few months seem to go by without a sighting of its pretty flower.  There’s one up the lane from where I live nodding its pretty little head at the moment - despite the fact that the deep old pack-horse trail where it grows was deep in snow just a week ago. The world seems just that little bit milder for having seen it. Best not pick it – people used to believe that if you did, your father would die. Why they used to think such a thing – and what logical connections the idea had with anything to do with reality, I cannot imagine.  The other big belief about red campion was that its seeds were capable of curing the agonies of an adder bite. How you managed to pick the plant in order to pound up the seeds and save the snake-bite victim without also killing your father, tradition doesn’t say.  Nor, of course, does any learned folklore tome anywhere tell us who discovered this useful anti-venom ability, or how. But so widespread was the belief that campion is also known as adders’ flower.  It enjoys other names too – like jack-by-the-hedge, cuckoo-flower, red mintchop, soldiers’ or batchelors’ buttons and scalded apples. Batchelors’ buttons might suggest it was once worn as a buttonhole by young unmarried men - as for the latter name, I have no idea. Campion looks nothing like apples, scalded or otherwise.  I’m told the root was sometimes used as a soap substitute for washing clothes – apparently people used to simmer the roots in hot water, then mash them up to make a slippery substance. Maybe they did. But I have seen a campion root and there isn’t much to it. You’d need an awful lot of dead campions – and therefore possibly numerous dead dads – to tackle the average family washing basket.  Its Latin name is silene dioica – the genus silene is a large grouping with around 700 species of annuals, biennials and perennials. Red campion grows right across Northern Europe and in some places they used to believe it offered protection against scorpion stings. Like so many old fashioned beliefs, though, it would be pleasant to learn that this were true. Not that there’s any way would I ever want to be in the position where I had to put the theory to the test. Oh, and please don’t forget to purchase a. book of my coronavirus shorts stories - of the mood takes you, that is. All about raising funds for Hospice UK - Tales From the Lockdown

Many years ago I spent a lot of my time hanging around with some guys I knew from Bath. And I mean, literally hanging around. They were hot air balloon pilots and we used to do a lot of filming while dangling under their vast balloon envelopes in small baskets made on the Somerset Levels. The metal burner-frame located below the balloon but above the basket was an ideal and steady structure upon which to hang an upside down tripod. The two guys I became great friends with were John Clifford and Clain Armstrong-Brown who, alas, has now passed away. John is out there somewhere though - Australia I think - and if you see this John, all the very best to you old mate. We lived in a big house at Luxborough at the time (Chargot) and occasionally the guys would come down for a visit and a few times John brought a balloon with him. We were trying to get sponsorship to do an entire series of films flying over the national parks of the UK - which would have been fantastic had it ever come off. Anyway, we did a couple of experimental flights over Exmoor and I’ve been digitising them from old fashioned High Band U-matic video. Here is the very beginning of one of our memorable flights - - shot early one winter morning after we’d taken off from the low flat fields under Dunster Castle - right next to the main road just where they have the eastern entrance to Dunster Show. Over the coming weeks I’ll put up some more of these balloon flight clips - next time soaring over Luxborough… To read about our Exmoor walks click here

People always talk about going mushroom picking in September and into the autumn, but living where I do I’ve often found the common field mushroom out and about in June or July.  It all depends on the weather. A warm and humid patch after some rain shoaled bring them out. Which is what we’ve had recently - but so far I must admit I’ve only found one single common field mushroom in the valley.  The south of England is supposed to be richer in fruits of the woods than anywhere else in the world - and, given the harvests over the past few days, I believe it. You have to be a bit careful though. There is a commonly found version of the field mushroom called the Yellow Stainer (agaricus xanthodermus) and it will make you quite sick. According the great mushroom man Roger Phillips, "The symptoms are sweating, flushing and severe stomach cramps - but only some people are affected." Beware of field mushrooms that have a yellow tint to them. Break one open and if the torn flesh turns yellow - forget it. A lot of people like horse-mushrooms. I used to be a big fan, but perhaps I've eaten too many. They can be incredibly strong if you get them when they're a little past their best. Actually, I had a couple of young fresh ones from a sheep field on the Brendons the other day and they were delicious. I only had a couple because each was as big as a tea plate and two were almost too much to eat. Another king-sized recent find was a giant puffball. When I say giant - I mean boulder-sized. We divided it and shared it between four families - no point keeping it or trying to store it as puffball goes off faster than anything else I know. When fresh, the soft white flesh is fantastic - like a sort of fungi-flavoured marshmallow. Fried in butter with a little salt and ground black pepper - that's all you have to do.  Incidentally, I have been told that if all the zillions of spores from one of these giants actually fruited and grew as large as its mum - then the earth's surface would be 28 feet thick in puffball. But then, perhaps that's one of those magic mushroom facts.   I have to say that I love hunting for fungi as much as I love eating the stuff. The enchantment of the mysterious mycelium is never lost on me. There's nothing better than a stroll into quiet, dark, ancient woodlands to discover these wonderful morsels peeping out of a mossy bank. I've noticed that, somehow, you get your eye in. The first cep can be difficult to find - but once you've found one, you're on your way to victory.So what to do with your find of field mushrooms? The very best thing is to enjoy them as simply as you can, which means frying them in good local butter, allowing the black juices to evaporate in the heat, before placing them on a thick slice of good bread smeared with yet more good butter. I sprinkle the whole lot with Maldon salt and use fresh ground white pepper rather than black.  Field mushroom soup is as easy to make as it is delicious. Fry the washed and cleaned mushrooms along with a little garlic and one or two crushed cardamom pods, then add as much whole milk as seems reasonable after you’ve taken about a quarter of the mushrooms out of the pan to add later. Bring the whole lot to a warm simmer – add a slosh or two of good quality Japanese soy sauce at this stage – and cook on an extremely low heat for half an hour.  Allow to cool, pick out the cardamoms, then blitz the whole lot with a hand-blender. Add the reserved fried mushrooms to give the soup a satisfying texture. Reheat, stirring in some butter or a little Greek yoghurt along with copious amounts of fresh ground black pepper and a little salt to taste.     To read about our Exmoor walks click here

Regular visitors to this website might recall a piece we did some time ago about the launch of an Exmoor lamb project. I wrote extensively at the time about the importance of buying local grass-fed meat - it’s good stuff - very very delicious and actually it is good for you and the environment as well. We can’t grow much in the way of arable crops on the high hills of Exmoor, but we do grow excellent grass. Obviously it’s not a thing we humans can eat, but we do know some creatures that can. Good old fashioned husbandry - looking after the soil and allowing hardy sheep breeds to live outdoors most of the year round… It represents one way of producing first class food in a system that has been going on in these parts for thousands of years. I’ve occasionally worked with the Exmoor National Park Authority on promoting the local lamb, but am not being paid to do so here - however, I’m such a fan I thought I’d put up their film and the following press release… Residents and visitors across Exmoor as well as further afield can now get a true taste of Exmoor at home by buying grass-fed lamb direct from some of the area’s passionate farmers and producers. A new list of farms supplying lamb direct and accompanying film has just been released and is available on-line from Exmoor Hill Farming Network (EHFN), Exmoor National Park Authority (ENPA), Visit Exmoor and Edible Exmoor. Grass-fed Exmoor lamb can often be found on the menus of the area’s award-winning restaurants including Woods, Dulverton, the Coleridge Restaurant at Dunkery Beacon Hotel, the Coach House, Kentisbury Grange and the Swan, Bampton. But this is the first time a supply chain has been developed for people to enjoy the product at home. One of the farmers supplying direct is Holly Purdey at Horner Farm. Holly said: “We farm in the Porlock Vale working with nature to ensure biodiversity across the farm is being restored, building a healthy environment for us all while producing a delicious, nutritious product. We keep native- breed ewes, ensuring our lambs grow at their own speed, resulting in the perfect balance of flavour, fat and tenderness.” Katrina Munro, who works on Exmoor National Park Authority’s  Eat Exmoor  initiative, promoting the benefits of buying local food, said: “One thing we should all be taking away from the lockdown experience is the vital importance of food security and supply. Local producers and shops have been at the heart of keeping people fed and now we need to ensure they continue to benefit from our support. By buying produce from Exmoor you’ll be helping our rural economy recover as well as doing your bit to protect the environment and conserve the beautiful landscapes of Exmoor.” The succulent juiciness and characteristic flavour of Exmoor lamb won over diners at an event at Woods in Dulverton at the end of 2019. Restaurateur and producer Paddy Groves served lamb cutlets from four regions across the UK and the Exmoor grass-fed lamb was the most popular in a blind-tasting, with customers using words like ‘delicious’ and ‘cuts like butter’. The event features in a short film celebrating the quality and benefits of Exmoor grass-fed lamb available at:  www.exmoor-nationalpark.gov.uk/eat-exmoor . Professor Jeff Wood, a leading academic specialising in animal and meat production who co-led a study with Bristol and Exeter Universities, comparing red meats that had been raised in different agricultural systems, said: “When compared to standard produced meat raised on a large proportion of processed feed, the grass-fed meat was preferred by all the taste panels in our study. You also have more omega-3 fatty acids in a grass-fed product from the leafy grass the animals eat. So, you not only get a good tasting product, but also something which is better for human health as well.” The register of suppliers has been complied by Katherine Williams of EHFN. Katherine said: “Our farmers are protecting the landscape and the environment by using both traditional and modern sustainable farming methods and keeping food miles to a minimum. They’re passionate about conserving the area and also the high welfare of their animals. Traceability and provenance are also so important to us and the animals here are all reared on a very high percentage grass diet - making the lamb both tasty and healthier to eat.” The Exmoor Hill Farming Network is welcoming enquiries from retail, food and hospitality businesses who wish to supply Exmoor lamb direct to customers. Contact  katherine@ehfn.org.uk  for more details. The list of farms supplying lamb direct can be found at www.ehfn.org.uk , www.exmoor-nationalpark.gov.uk/eat-exmoor , www.edibleexmoor.co.uk or go to  www.visit-exmoor.co.uk/eat-exmoor for some of the area’s top restaurants. To read about our Exmoor walks click here

Years ago I presented several series of walks on television. This is the first one I ever did with ITV Westcountry - and jolly enjoyable it was too. So enjoyable that we went on to make a number of series with the same team - not only walks but things like Great West Country Icons and a lovely series called Up The Creek, in which I voyaged up and down the region’s estuaries in a wonderful old Watchet Flatner - one of the only boats ever invented that was deigned to sink! Not that we did any sinking, thank God… But we did have a very pleasant time making the TV packages and writing up the whole thing for the Western Morning News… To read about our Exmoor walks click here

It was one of the hottest stuffiest days of the year and we wanted some air - so where better than The Chains on Exmoor. My wife Sue and I walked over Dure Down from the Simonsbath-Lynmouth road, past Exe Head, and down to Hoar Oak Cottage yesterday and enjoyed every step of the weary, very hot, way. Here’s an article I wrote a while ago… Even the name suggests a degree of upland loneliness and bleakness - Hoaroak Cottage, tucked in an empty valley under the windswept, boggy, vastness of The Chains on Exmoor, is one of the most remote buildings in all the West Country. To read about our Exmoor walks click here As such, the ancient moorland home has played host to all manner of tales and legends - to the extent that it has become something of an enigma with its own dedicated website and a society of friends.    Now the semi-ruined cottage - which some say is the capital of the Middle of Nowhere - has just undergone refurbishment work to stabilise its fabric. A spokesman for the Exmoor National Park Authority (ENPA), which acquired the cottage in 1969, told me: “The building, which probably dates from the beginning of the 1800s but may be much older, is an evocative and historically important reminder of the hardships of upland sheep farming on Exmoor. It was occupied until 1958 and then allowed to fall into disrepair.  “In 2009, following the death of the tenant, the authority began to explore ways of safeguarding the remote building,” she added, saying the ENPA had worked closely with the Friends of Hoar Oak Cottage, the Exmoor Society and Exmoor Uprising to agree a way of consolidating the remains of the cottage to a stable ruin. Matt Harley, ENPA property manager, said: “The presence of sensitive wildlife, the distance to the nearest road and the vagaries of our summer weather has meant that the careful consolidation of the building has taken three years - however it is now complete and we are delighted with the results.” Praising the project, Rachel Thomas, chairman of the Exmoor Society, commented: “I am really impressed with what’s been achieved in retaining what appears to be a ruin from a distance in a relatively wild, open landscape - but with the ability to read the story of a cottage when close up - leaving a feeling of mystery and a desire to explore further.  “The Friends of Hoar Oak Cottage have done a splendid job in stimulating interest on their website,” she added. You can find out more about the enigmatic ruin by visiting http://www.hoaroakcottage.org/

I am getting lots of positive messages about my modern fairy-story, The Deer Park - and a lot of people want to know more about the exact location I’ve based it on… Well, here’s an old newspaper hike which I wrote as a way of getting people to visit the Land of the Giants. This is not, as it happens, a reference to anything in my book (although there is a giant in it). This classic walk introduces us to a grove of trees which are the tallest in England.   The Dunster Douglas even has its own plaque to confirm it’s the country’s tallest tree. The giant douglas fir has been growing since 1876 and is now just a single foot short of 200 feet (60.5 metres). The plaque also informs us that its trunk weighs 50 tonnes - which would be enough wood to make 4.5 million pencils. Fantastic... Indeed, a stroll through the Valley of the Giants is a fantastic, awe-inspiring, experience which I’d recommend to all country-lovers. This particular hike has the valley as it’s ultimate goal - you can reach it far more easily by car if you’re feeling lazy. To try them out for the first time I went to the forested hills behind Dunster which offer as wide a cross-section of walking conditions that you’ll find in this region. There are steep rocky tracks, open heaths, stream to cross and some muddy sections - which just about encapsulates most terrain you will come across in the South West.  Having parked in the small car park near Gallox Bridge (turn left at the Forester’s Arms as you leave the village on the Wheddon Cross road) I followed the old packhorse trail into the hills south of Dunster. The packmen of old used to frequent an inn called the Horse and Crook somewhere around here – the pub’s long gone, but they used to take their trains of horses, mules and donkeys across the old packhorse bridge that still stands at Gallox. If you look over your right shoulder while walking across the bridge, you will see Grabbist from where, legend has it, a super-sized ogre used to reside at the locally named 'Giants Seat'. Apparently he was a nice old giant, the villagers would get him to dry their washing by wafting one of his huge hands. The village has another ancient giant legend which claims one huge fellow had been locked in a dungeon. This one eventually turned out to be true - a massive manacled skeleton was uncovered during the last century in Dunster Castle's Gatehouse. Having reached the forest gate above Gallox Bridge, I turned left and followed the path towards Carhampton. This can be muddy - and was the other day - but the Brashers gave good grip. The track took me up over a pleasant corner of down-land, affording the most fantastic and unusual views of the famous castle.  At Carhampton Gate, we come to the old deer park boundary. I turned right and followed it along a track called Park Lane which ascended up over the hill to Withycombe Hill Gate.  At this point you could - if you wanted a shorter hike without the giant trees - re-enter the park by walking through the gate on your right to continue straight on, out onto the big bald hill that plays host to Bat’s Castle. This is one of the most tremendous prehistoric remains in the West Country – and I say that not only because of its extraordinary ramparts, but because of the sublime views you get in just about every direction from the top. In fact, you get more-or-less the same view of the Avill Valley running up to the high point of Dunkery Beacon as the one Mrs Cecil Frances Alexander enjoyed from Grabbist more than a century ago. She was so impressed that she wrote the famous hymn 'All Things Bright and Beautiful'. Dunkery might not be exactly a "purple headed mountain" - but the rest of the hymns rings as a pretty true description of village and vale. However, I did the exact opposite and turned left instead along a footpath which lead me out onto Aller Hill. Heading south, this right of way now quits the trees and strikes out over some rough open land. Curving to the south-east it descends along side a wood, crosses a small stream, and then begins a direct ascent up the hill which plays host to Gupworthy Farm. We pass the path which leads to the farm on our left and continue on upwards towards the beautiful named woodlands called Withycombe Scruffets (or Scrubbetts, depending on which spelling you prefer). After about a mile - and just before we reach open heathland - a track descends to our right and this will take you down into Longcombe.  Once you reach the very bottom of the valley, take any of the forestry tracks which wend their way around Longcombe Hill to continue west past Broadwood Farm to reach the wood of that name.  Now swing north to get onto the Broadwood Road - and within a couple of minutes you are dwarfed as you stroll amid the gargantuan conifers.  Actually, most are conifers but Dunster Douglas stands right next to the country’s tallest magnolia - measuring a modest 80 feet in height.  The Crown Estate developed a Tall Tree Trail around the valley, says that the warm damp climate of the coombe and its perfect soil combination has allowed the giants to grow so tall.  We pass out of the trail’s northern end and follow the little paved lane for a few hundred yards across some meadows until the woodlands begin again. This is where we leave the lane to join tracks on our right which start climbing around Gallox Hill. Yet more stunning views can be enjoyed from the top where the trees thin out to open heath. We continue around the northern end of the eminence (which is actually called Vinegar Hill) to descend along a track that leads east directly back to the packhorse bridge. Fact File Basic hike: from the southerly quarter of Dunster, across Gallox Bridge to the Deer Park. East to Carhampton Gate, south to Withycombe Hill Gate, south past Gupworthy Farm, across Longombe, past Broadwood Farm to head north via Tall Tree Trail to Gallox Hill and back around Vinegar Hill. Recommended map: Ordnance Survey Explorer OL9 Exmoor. Distance and going: six miles, a little steep in places – can be muddy. To read about our Exmoor walks click here

Here’s a walk for winter – despite the conditions underfoot. I have lived in my Exmoor valley 30 years now, and never during all that time have I known the paths so muddy. Luckily I came across a camera card containing some photographs I took during a dry and pleasant walk in central Exmoor that I enjoyed a few winters ago. It was one of those cold sunlit afternoons in which small white and slightly menacing clouds scud in from the Atlantic. We parked near Upper Willingford Bridge on the convergence of lovely Litton Water and Dane’s Brook (map ref: SS325 815).  In his book The Waters of Exmoor, Noel Allen tells us: “The Danes’ Brook probably takes its name from the hilly nature of the countryside through which it flows, or possibly from the twin mounds of Brewer’s Castle and Mounsey Castle which guard its junction with the River Barle.” To read about our Exmoor walks click here This column has trudged in gorgeous glen before, this time we’re leaving the stream behind us to climb around the spur of hill due north towards Halscombe Allotment. After crossing a small tributary we bear right so that we can make for Porchester’s Post.  Now we enter the greater area of Withypool Common. From now on it is a story of verderers, free suitors, Court Leets and Lords of the Manor. As Exmoor writer Victor Bonham Carter once said in an essay for The Exmoor Review: “Withypool Common is a direct survival of the era when the Royal Forest of Exmoor was still an open waste, before the Inclosure Act of 1815; and it survived subsequent legislation by which many other commons on Exmoor were inclosed during the mid-19th century. “Moreover, despite the vicissitudes of two worlds wars, the impact of tourism and of various measures for agricultural improvement, it is still being used in essentially the same manner as in the past: namely, as a grazing ground for stock, controlled by customary rights.” By the way, that was written in 1968 when the impact of tourism was but a smidgen of what it is today. Later in the same extensive study of the common, research by Geoffrey Sinclair showed that on a fine weekday in August a mere four walkers appeared on Withypool Common. In a normal August in more recent times I bet you’d have counted more than 100 – but, of course, that could be much diminished next month if the rain continues to fall.  However, we were quite alone as we followed the hedge north west from Porchester’s Post. It took us to the Withypool road which we crossed so that we could continue on up to Brightworthy Burrows. At 428 metres this offers a fine prospect of central southern Exmoor. Way down to the west there’s famous Landacre Bridge looking lonely in the valley of the Barle – and if we spin slowly to our right we follow the river all the way to Withypool. I always think there’s something peculiarly Scottish looking about Withypool. Perhaps it’s the way it nestles amid the moors, but perhaps too, it is something to do with the John Buchan-ish that dot its hillsides. Somehow you can imagine the man with the ‘hooded eyes’ – the villain of The 39 Steps, lurking in one of these expensive homes. We dropped due north from the Burrows to reach the footpath that runs adjacent to the Barle. Again, this column has trudged this way before, so I won’t dally in my descriptions of the beautiful route east to the village. If the pub is open, I heartily recommend taking refreshment there. If not, purchase something sustaining from the post office in preparation for your ascent of Withypool Hill. Cross back over the splendid old bridge and proceed up the Hawkridge road.  No sooner had we left the village, we took to the moor and walked straight up to the summit. An alternative would be to follow the lane all the way to the cattle grid, where you can turn right to follow the bridleway alongside the edge of the moor. The magnificent views available from the summit were fast beginning to fade when reached the tumulus at the top, so we carried on with barely a murmur, down past the ancient stone circle and eventually we joined the track that took us south west to a place called Tudball’s Splats. Great name. Who Tudball was and what Splats are, I neither knew nor cared. I was growing weary as night fell and so we pushed on to regain our original route - past Porchester’s Post and south to Willingford Bridge.  Five of the nine miles we’d walked in daylight, three in the gloaming and one in utter darkness. And as the stars disappeared it started to rain. So what’s new? Fact File Basic hike: from Upper Willingford Bridge (map ref: SS325 815) north to Brightworthy Burrows, down to the footpath along the Barle, east to Withypool, and south to return over Withypool Hill. Recommended map: Ordnance Survey Explorer OL 9 Exmoor. Distance and going: nine miles, fairly easy going, can be a bit squelchy after rain. Food and drink: Royal Oak, Withypool

Many years ago (more than a quarter of a century, for certain) I was up at Simonsbath in the heart of Exmoor on a bitterly cold day to meet local man and Exmoor expert, the late Stan Curtis. Here’s the video we shot with Exmoor ranger Mike Leach all that time ago. Listen out for Stan’s wonderful Exmoor accent - you won’t hear one like it often nowadays. To see more Exmoor walks, click here...

Perfect Porlock Weir Porlock Weir is one of my favourite places in the world and I have written about it many times. As the nicest of our local seaside haunts I’ve been visiting the place since I was a small boy - and later writing many different newspaper articles based on many different subjects down there where the Exmoor hills dip to meet the sea. I popped down to the Weir this week with a spare hour to spare and walked in the rain. (To see more Exmoor Walks click here ) Porlock Marsh: Britain’s Fastest Changing Landscape And here’s an article I penned 25 years ago… It looks like a land where dinosaurs might roam, but Porlock Marsh, not far from the North Devon - Somerset border, is Britain's newest wetland and officially the country's fastest changing environment. Not long ago you'd have seen sheep and cattle grazing here. For centuries the low-lying meadows just north of the village of Porlock were protected by an immense natural shingle ridge, but storms in the late 1990s breached the pebble bank and hundreds of acres were inundated by the sea at high tide. Now the Exmoor National Park Authority has signed a management agreement with a local landowner in a bid to ensure that this extraordinary landscape will be protected as it develops and changes. How Nature Reclaimed Porlock Bay Though just how it will change, no one is sure. "We're open to the forces of nature," says the National Park's conservation officer David Lloyd. "It's a very exciting place because in Britain we're not used to seeing this sort of major landscape change. We don't know for certain how it will look in years to come. We don't really know how much bigger the breach will get." He explained how the shingle ridge used to be much further out to sea, stretching in a more-or-less straight line two miles across Porlock Bay, between Gore Point in the west and Hurlestone Point in the east. But over the years two factors altered the natural dam. Wave action pushed the ridge ever inland, causing it to curve and lengthen. At the same time the ridge became starved of its natural material. It is fed with shingle from the west in an action known as littoral drift , but the source is finite. In latter years not enough shingle was being fed to maintain the ridge—partly, it is thought, due to the development of the harbour, car park and various groynes at Porlock Weir . The Birth of a New Coastal Habitat In 1996 the first major hole appeared. Grass and trees do not take kindly to salt water and in six years the place has become a desert. A beautiful, unique and exciting desert - as I found out when I toured the area with park authority ranger Tim Parish. "It is the most incredible landscape," he said as we climbed out of his Land Rover at the end of a long and muddy lane. "And it is also a little dangerous. We don't advise people to go out along the ridge towards the breach. At spring tides in particular, it can be hazardous. People's dogs have been swept away." As we walked we could see the tortured limbs of dead trees whose roots have been cloaked in a sort of primeval slime. The meadow grass has long gone, but is being replaced by other plants like samphire. Beyond the trees a new lagoon stretches to the shingle ridge, and we could see coffee-coloured waves pumping water in from the Bristol Channel. Huge flocks of curlew and lapwing flew hither and thither in the nor-westerly gale and, out on the mud, shelduck took flight in a dazzle of black and white wings. Managing the Future of Porlock Marsh "We've had to divert the South West Coast Path, it used to run along the top of the shingle but now we've a new permissive route that passes inland of the lake," said Tim, explaining that this development was all part of the management agreement negotiated with Porlock Manor Estate. As we approached the sizeable expanse of brackish water we could see how the new environment must have come as quite a shock to local people. "Yes I think it was something of a shock and there was a great deal of discussion about the future of the place" says David Lloyd. Porlock people saw millions being spent on sea-defences at Minehead (six miles along the coast) and some of them wanted bulldozers to come and plug the breach. "But how long could you go on bulldozing the shingle and would it work anyway?" asked the conservation officer, pointing to the huge build-up of stones that is occurring under Hurlestone Point in the corner of the bay. He concluded: "What has happened here has been the result of a natural process." An Ever-Evolving Coastal Landscape In the end the authorities deemed it to be a case of fait accompli . The National Trust , which owns half the marsh, got on with the job of adapting its management of the area and now the park authority has come to an agreement over the 80 hectares which make up the other half. "We will be working on what we can do in the Marsh," says Mr Lloyd. "There are issues like people walking their dogs in the nesting season. But on the other hand we'd like to improve access - we could have things like board-walks and hides, perhaps an interpretation area. We could also develop some higher areas where birds like lapwing and redshank could nest safely." One thing is certain. With global warming threatening to raise sea levels, Porlock Marsh is set to become a permanent feature on the West Somerset coast. The poet Robert Southey described Porlock as “The End of the World” - and that was 200 years ago when the village was protected by acres of low-lying fields. Now, as the primeval swamp creeps closer to the community, his words seem to have finally come home to roost. Ada Lovelace and the Porlock Connection Keywords: Ada Lovelace, Ada Lovelace Day, Exmoor history, Ashley Combe, Porlock Weir, women in science, Charles Babbage, first computer programmer, Ada Lovelace Somerset connection I also once wrote about Lady Lovelace who used to live near the Weir…. It has been rare indeed that women have been able to enter the history books as leading lights in the world of science, technology, engineering and maths - and rarer still that such a person should be linked to a remote West Country community. But the mathematician Ada Lovelace certainly makes the cut when it comes to fame in the world of numbers and computing - and her connection with the Exmoor village of Porlock is the subject of annual celebration. Ada Lovelace Day: Celebrating Women in STEM Ada Lovelace Day , held every October, is an international celebration of the achievements of women in science, technology, engineering and maths (STEM). Lovelace, daughter of the romantic poet Lord Byron , is best known for her work on Charles Babbage’s Analytical Engine - and it was she who recognised that the contraption had many applications beyond pure numeric calculation. The World’s First Computer Programmer Ada realised the full potential of what she called a “computing machine” and because of that she is regarded as the world's first computer programmer. Augusta Ada King, Countess of Lovelace, was born in 1815 and tutored in mathematics and science – subjects often forbidden for girls at the time – at the insistence of her mother. As a teenager aged just 17, she met the mathematician Charles Babbage , inventor of the mechanical calculator, who was to become her mentor. Soon after that she was commissioned to translate a French article about Babbage’s wonder machine - and while doing so, she was able to add her own intellectual commentary upon the subject of computing. In a book called ‘She: A Celebration of 100 Renegade Women’ , author Harriet Hall explains: “She theorised that Babbage’s machine had the potential to translate music, pictures and text into digital form.” A Vision Ahead of Her Time Her notes were respected and published in 1843, but the theory within was so revolutionary that it took over a century for it to be recognised as the first computer algorithm and Lovelace as the first computer programmer. Lovelace wrote: “The Analytical Engine might act upon other things besides number, were objects found whose mutual fundamental relations could be expressed by those of the abstract science of operations... the engine might compose elaborate and scientific pieces of music of any degree of complexity or extent.” Ashley Combe: Ada Lovelace’s Porlock Retreat It was in 1835 that Ada married William King, 8th Baron King and later 1st Earl of Lovelace. They had three children: Byron, Annabella and Ralph Gordon. The family lived at Ockham Park in Surrey, but spent their honeymoon in the romantic setting of Ashley Combe , in the steep forests high above Porlock Weir . The King family owned a large West Somerset estate that included Ashley Combe, Yearnor, Culbone, Sparkhayes and Bratton near Minehead. Ashley Combe was built in 1799 as a hunting lodge and improved at great expense by Lord King in 1835 for the honeymoon. It later became a summer retreat for the couple and was continually being improved. The Secret Tunnels of Ashley Combe The family and its fortunes were apparently very much directed by Ada whose domineering was rarely opposed by William. As an engineer he was more interested in designing tunnels than running the family - a hobby which he put into practice at Ashely Combe. The house, built in the fashionable Italianate style, had a tall clock tower and extensive gardens which consisted of terraced walks, alcoves, spiral stairs and woodland trails. Beyond these were more open gardens which contained various hot-houses and decorative towers – relics of which can still be seen today. The tunnels took tradesmen from the road to the trade entrance of the big house so their carts could not be seen by its occupants. A woodland walk and steps led down to the beach where a bath-house was built into the cliff to enable Ada to bathe in privacy. A Scandalous Mind and Enduring Legacy During scientific researches on her regular visits to the Porlock family home, Ada used to visit Andrew Crosse , known as the Wizard of The Quantocks for his early experiments with electricity, and was said to have established a rather “shadowy” relationship with his son John. Indeed, Ada was not all sweetness and scientific light - she flirted with scandals, took a relaxed approach to extra-marital relationships with men and loved gambling - an addiction which led to her forming a syndicate with male friends and an ambitious attempt to create a mathematical model for successful large bets. This went disastrously wrong, leaving her deeply in debt to the syndicate. Lovelace died of cancer, aged just 36, in 1852 - but has since received a multitude of posthumous accolades. More than a century later, in 1980, the US Department of Defence named a computer language after her, and Ada Lovelace Day is celebrated every October in recognition of her groundbreaking contribution to computer technology.

The beacon at Dunkery Beacon There's an Exmoor Easter walks tradition which, in days of yore, would see the people of the villages climbing Dunkery at this time of the year 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. In fact, the climbing of hills used to be quite the done thing at Easter—for obvious reasons. TO SEE MORE EXMOOR WALKS CLICK HERE The Symbolic Journey: Why We Take Easter Walks to the Summit There might be some strange notions about de-Christianising the Easter festival around today, but for many centuries ours was a land in which people firmly believed in the story of The Crucifixion. Most readers will have grown up with the stark biblical imagery of a bare hill crowned by three crosses in their minds. View north from Dunkery Beacon Calvary is an anglicised version of the hill’s old Hebrew name, Golgotha —which is an altogether more sinister sounding place—and one that referred to the fact the hill, near one of Jerusalem’s gates, resembled a skullcap. Anyway, the god-fearing folk of the Westcountry would climb hills around Easter and either put up symbolic crosses or cast their believing eyes skywards for some kind of religious sign. In more modern times, people began to climb hills in order to roll eggs down them—which is great fun, even if the ancient origins of the tradition are somewhat obscure. Across Europe, it is said children rolled eggs down hillsides at Easter because it was symbolic of the rolling away of the rock from Jesus’s tomb before his resurrection. Climbing hills is, of course, a healthy thing to do, no matter what religion you believe in. Which is why we’ve drawn up a list of the Top 10 Hills to climb this Easter . 1. Dunkery Beacon , Exmoor Exmoor’s highest hill and apparently THE place from which to see the Lamb of God at Easter time. The beacon offers tremendous views—which is an obvious thing to say about any big eminence—but Dunkery really does boast panoramas others fail to reach. 2. Tregonning Hill, Cornwall Tregonning Hill on a breezy spring day For years Cornish folk gave praise to this hill as it led directly to the employment of hundreds of thousands of men. For Tregonning is the place where William Cookworthy discovered china clay nearly 270 years ago. A basic circumnavigation offers fine views of Western Cornwall. 3. Culmstock Beacon, Devon Walkers at Culmstock Beacon Anyone who has travelled on the M5 will have seen it—the great, flat-topped, steep-sided escarpment that reaches out like a giant diving board into the patchwork green of mid-Devon, south of the motorway. 4. Steeperton Tor, Dartmoor If you want to go to a hill that is lonely and remote, try Steeperton Tor. The walk begins at Belstone and heads south into the moors following the Taw. But be warned, this whole area is subject to closure if there’s a military training exercise. Lonely Steeperton Tor on northern Dartmoor 5. Golden Cap, Dorset The highest point along the entire English south coast. Climbing its 191-metre summit from sea-level is a pure joy for lovers of maritime views. The additional climb to the summit is a must for the hale and hearty. Golden Cap from Seatown 6. Burrowbridge Mump, Somerset The Somerset Levels are strikingly beautiful. Go to Burrowbridge Mump for a stunning bird’s eye view—and there’s even a ruined church at the top to add to the Easter atmosphere. Burrowbridge Mump in winter 7. Glastonbury Tor, Somerset Yes, more views of the Levels—but the famous Tor is much higher than the Mump and there’s yet another ruined church at the top if you are feeling spiritual. And who doesn’t when they go to Glastonbury? Glastonbury Tor from the south 8. Carn Brea, Cornwall This craggy eminence looms 750 feet above Camborne and Redruth. The hill is a warren of history, the summit covered in the remains of hut circles and ramparts dating back to the Iron Age and even Neolithic times. Carn Brea above Redruth 9. High Willhayes, Dartmoor At 2039 feet (621 metres), Dartmoor’s highest hill is the closest the West Country gets to heaven. By climbing High Willhayes, you will know you are the highest person in the southern UK. High Willhayes, Darmtoor's highest hill 10. Brent Tor, Devon The little church of St Michael de Rupe perched on the top of the crags is my favourite temple in the West Country. It is closer to heaven than almost any other church in the south of England and offers a peerless view of the landscape. Brent Tor on the Devon-Cornwall border

Discover the best Exmoor walks shaped by rivers including the Exe, Barle, Lyn and Horner Water – a richly detailed guide to the moor’s most beautiful waterways. Robber's Bridge Exmoor is shaped by its rivers. From the wild, boggy heights of the Chains to wooded valleys and hidden coastal combes, water defines the landscape at every turn. To understand Exmoor properly, you have to follow its rivers — and there is no better place to begin than with the great stream that gives the moor its name. If you are interested in this article then check out our Exmoor walks page. Exe Cleave carries the young River Exe towards the distant sea The River Exe – Exmoor’s Defining Waterway Any study of Exmoor’s waterways has to start with the big granddaddy of them all – the river that gives the place its name. The Exe is 60-something miles of pure riverine glory - but it’s one of those streams that could, at birth, have saved itself a lot of trouble. Had it flowed north it would have reached the sea-board of the Exmoor coast in just a few miles. The River Exe emerges from a huge morass - a sort of high bog-land - known as The Chains. Exe Plain is just part of this great sponge-like area which lies northwest of Simonsbath and south of Lynton and Lynmouth. Rivers pour forth all around it, including the mighty Barle, which later becomes a tributary of the Exe. The Exe is born in the loneliest hills of Exmoor The Exe begins its journey south by heading east, passing through the very heartland of central Exmoor as it goes. As it leaves the Chains so it gouges an extraordinary ‘V’ shaped valley called Preyway Meads, before entering the deep and awesome Exe Cleave. The occasional pile of sheep bones supplies all the evidence one needs to recognise that life is tough up here. The men who worked the mine that is situated 100 foot or so above the river in Exe Cleave must have been particularly hardy. The Honeymead Mine is where the Plymouth Iron Company raised 500 tons of ore in 1858. Exford is situated in the river valley at a point which could, arguably, be described as the very heart of the national park. It's an attractive place which plays host to a good deal of the area's equine activities. The pretty Exmoor village of Winsford Past the village, the river now enters one of its most beautiful stretches. The hills close in on the stream as it makes its way to Winsford - there are no roads or cars in the deep demesne - just the rush of the river and the occasional bark of a wild red deer. Winsford, with its famous thatched pub and village green, is popular with visitors who gather around the babbling Winn Brook as it passes the tea gardens to join the larger river. A mile or two later the Exe meets the River Quarme – which has come down from the lonely expanses of the Dunkery range - and now it turns south towards the distant English Channel. It flows through the hamlet of Bridgetown and wriggles and writhes its way to its confluence with the Barle. The River Barle curls its way through some of Exmoor's loneliest valleys The Barle – From Pinkery Pond to Dulverton In its bid to leave The Chains, the Barle has its first moment of glory at Pinkery Pond. I can never go there without thinking of wretched Richard Gammin, whose body was found in its cold dark depths 105 years ago. Six years after his wife died, leaving him with 10 children to raise, farmer Gammin sought the attentions of a young Parracombe girl. Her letter, refusing his offers of love, was found in his jacket by the side of the lake. Lynmouth lifeboat crew sent up a small boat so the depths could be dragged, a diver from Wales was brought in - all to no avail. There was only one thing for it - Pinkery Pond had to be drained. The River Barle above Simonsbath The dam was equipped with two large plugholes, but nothing could budge the bungs. Teams of horses were attached to chains, but the iron rings on the plugs simply broke off. Eventually brilliant Bob Jones, the man who built the Lynton-Lynmouth Cliff Railway, devised an elaborate system of rams to push the bungs out from the other side of the dam. And so the pond was drained on the first of just two occasions in its long history. The remains of broken-hearted Gammin were found and herons came in flocks and ate all the fish. Pinkery Pond - or Pinkworthy to give the proper name A grim story for what is otherwise a very jolly and beautiful river. The Barle passes Simonsbath, flows under lovely arched Landacre Bridge, slips through handsome little Withypool and ducks and dives through deep woods past famous Tarr Steps. It then arrives at Dulverton, Exmoor’s capital, before being swallowed by its big sister a mile or two south of the town at Exbridge. The River Barle near Tarr Steps The Lyn Rivers – Wild Valleys and Watersmeet The Lyn Rivers are the moor’s other best-known waterways. The East Lyn begins where the Badgworthy and Oare Waters meet at Malmsmead. It tumbles past the village of Brendon and accelerates down the ever narrowing, ever steeper, gradient past the hamlet of Rockford and its pub. Shortly after the inn the river enters a sylvan chasm – on either side, woods seem to reach vertically for the skies. West Lyn River Eventually it arrives at famous Watersmeet, where the National Trust has a splendid tearoom. Here the river meets a combination of Farley and Hoaroak Waters – and a more dramatic riverine spot you’d be hard pushed to find. Now the East Lyn is up to full strength. Rock crags hang above the ravine and scree-slopes slither and slide between the trees. The valley at Myrtleberry Cleave seems too steep for itself – like an overweight person whose seams have come undone. With a few final twists and turns, the East Lyn tumbles under Wester Wood and Oxen Tor to reach Lynmouth where it is joined by its lesser-known, shorter, but equally beautiful sister, the West Lyn. Lynmouth, where the Lyn Rivers meet the sea In the last mile or two of either river, it is easy to see how the Lynmouth Flood Disaster occurred – even on a summer’s day the steepness of the coombes and the spate of the water make for an awesome combination. Horner Water runs down through Exmoor's ancient woodlands Horner Water – Woods, Wildlife and Porlock Vale Horner Water is Exmoor’s other much-celebrated stream. The writer N.V. Allen says Horner is, “Probably derived from the British ‘hwrnwr’ meaning ‘the snorer’, recalling the sonorous sound of its water in spate.” To find its source you must travel along one of Exmoor’s loneliest roads - the lane that leads from the top of Porlock Hill to Exford. There’s a fork called Lucott Cross and just south of this there's a gentle depression between Alderman’s Barrow Allotment and Hurdle Down. That’s where you’ll find the birthplace of Chetsford Water. For that is what the Horner is called during its high moorland infancy. After meeting with Embercombe Water, Chetsford turns into Nutscale Water, which soon veers north to eventually issue into the reservoir that bears its name, built in 1941 after years of arguments and municipal infighting. Chetsford Water Shortly downstream, the river makes a big curve to the east as it avoids Tarr Ball Hill and, for the first time, it enters forest. These are the deep woods for which Horner Water has become internationally renowned. Indeed, the woods that surround Horner Water make up one of the largest blocks of semi-natural woodland to be found anywhere in the country. The place is regarded as important for its vast array of lichens. There are more than 330 types, including many rarities that only manage to survive in the vicinity because there's so little pollution. Most of the area is National Trust-owned and the organisation has done a great deal of interesting environmental work here over the past few decades. The writer Richard Jefferies adored the place. 120 years ago he stood somewhere in these woods and wrote in his book Red Deer: "I caught sight of a red mark in the midst of an acre of brake surrounded by oak. I was sure it was a stag instantly by the bright colour, by the position. He was standing in the fern beside a bush, with his head down as if feeding. A whistle - the sound was a moment or two reaching him - made him lift his head, and the upright carriage of the neck proved once again that it was a stag and not a hind." Lovely Cloutsham Farm dominates the spur of hill that shares its name. East Water Valley flows down from Aller, Sweetworthy and Bagley Combes, dividing Cloutsham Ball from the main Dunkery range. The ford at Cloutsham The remains of an ancient village can still be seen at Bagley. It is mentioned in the Domesday Book. I have also heard tell of the two hapless Huguenot ladies who once lived in a hovel hereabouts. They had fallen on very bad times indeed - so bad that they died of starvation in their hovel, being too proud to announce their poverty to the world. Once Horner Water has joined East Water it makes no bones about dashing to the sea. Within a mile or so it is passing the hamlet of Horner and, free of the hills, is running through the fertile lowlands of Porlock Vale. Past the rural idyll of West Luccombe it cloaks itself in a long spinney to eventually join the River Aller at Bossington. Bossington, with its thatched cottages and wonderfully tall, cylindrical chimneys, is part of the huge estate that was given to the National Trust by the Acland family. Now Horner Water reaches the sea - or it would, if there wasn’t a huge shingle bank in the way. Sometimes, after very heavy rains, the river summons up the strength to knock a channel through the stones, but mostly it is content to filter down through the pebbles to meet its salty end. TO SEE MORE ABOUT EXMOOR WALKS CLICK HERE Horner Water eventually arrives at Bossington Beach Frequently Asked Questions Where do the main rivers of Exmoor rise? The two largest rivers on the moor, The River Exe and The River Barle, both find their origins in the bleak, wild, and boggy uplands of The Chains—the remote western plateau of Exmoor National Park. While they rise remarkably close together, they take distinct routes through deep-cut valleys before eventually converging south of Dulverton. What makes the East Lyn River unique for walkers? The East Lyn River is famous for tumbling through some of the steepest, deepest wooded gorges in England. Gathering strength as it passes Brendon and Rockford, it meets major tributaries at the National Trust beauty spot of Watersmeet before a dramatic final plunge down to the sea at Lynmouth. Its vertiginous, rocky banks offer spectacular, atmospheric trails for hikers. Why is Horner Water significant to Exmoor's ecology? Horner Water rises near Lucott Cross and flows down into Horner Woods, which represents one of the largest ancient tracts of semi-natural oak woodland left in Britain. The river valley boasts a unique microclimate with incredibly clean air, providing a vital sanctuary for over 330 species of rare lichens, as well as prime habitat for Exmoor's wild red deer herds. Can you walk along the River Exe on Exmoor? Yes. The upper sections of the River Exe offer quintessential valley walking, particularly the picturesque 8-mile stretch that curves and winds through the contours between the villages of Exford and Winsford. This path provides an intimate look at the changing landscape as the river transforms from a high-moor stream into a classic West Country waterway. The River Avill at Dunster Packhorse Bridge