Cornwall gets crowded. This August Bank Holliday weekend it will be very crowded. Which means many a Cornish village will be choked with traffic. And when you’re stuck in a car in a traffic jam the idea of a Secret Cornwall might seem to be a very long way away… That might be the case with motorists in the village of Kilkhampton this weekend. Kilk, to give it the local name, is split in two by the busy A39 Atlantic Highway and it often becomes a bottleneck during busy times. What those frustrated motorists will not realise is that they are surrounded by one of the most beautiful villages in Cornwall. I learned to love Kilkhampton after I was invited there to research an article 10 years ago… what follows is a newly re-written version of that article… On windy nights when the Duckpool Roar haunts Kilkhampton the wreckers of yore turn in their graves and murmur to one another in old Devonian accents.  Sounds romantic enough, in a swashbuckling kind of way – which is apt because that’s the sort of place Kilkhampton is. But there are a couple of taboos in my first sentence you perhaps shouldn’t mention if you ever visit this North Cornish village. In the midst of a jolly and amiable meeting with movers and shakers from Kilkhampton I dropped a clanger by mentioning the infamous Cornish wreckers. Silence reigned when I asked if any of the assembled group’s ancestors had lured hapless ships onto the rocks. But that silence wasn’t as deafening as the one that later filled the Methodist Hall when someone suggested the local accent was closer to the brogue of Devon than the burr of Cornwall. If the majority present agreed with the speaker, they weren’t about to say so. And one further dodgy moment occurred – all in good humour I hasten to add - when I asked if Kilkhampton had among its citizens any government spies or spooks. “We’d have to kill you if we told you,” smiled a parish councillor.   I asked the question because GCHQ’s big cliff-top listening station or whatever it is looms on the borders of the parish and it is reasonable to assume some its employees must reside hereabouts. I would choose to live there if I were spending my working life listening in to Al Queada phone-calls or helping to stamp out terrorist plots, because Kilkhampton and its large surrounding parish offers a peaceful and lovely antidote to such horrors. Indeed, Kilk, as the locals call it, represents all that is best about England, its rural culture and its lifestyle - and so is the kind of place that I imagine terrorists would love to destroy.   Much of the 8000-plus acre parish is located on the high plateau that is the birthplace of the River Tamar - the other half is to be found among the beautiful steep coombes and valleys that descend to the surfing beaches and razor cliffs that wrecked so many vessels down the centuries.  Given its location it’s not surprising to learn that Kilk has its fair share of romance. Which indeed, is why I began this article in such a mysterious fashion – I wanted to convey how Kilkhampton has more swash-and-buckle in it’s little finger than most ancient villages do in their entire sword-arms. And that is saying something for a highway burg which is often plagued by traffic. Apart from the unmentionable wreckers, there were smugglers and antediluvian castles. And there were the folk Kilk seems most proud of – its famous swashbuckling squires.  The much celebrated (in Cornwall at least) Grenville family used to be lords of the manor at Kilkhampton. Indeed, the word swashbuckle could have been invented for them… Here’s what was once written about Sir Richard Grenville who dined regularly with Spanish captains from the Main and would, “carouse three or four glasses of wine, and in bravery take the glasses between his teeth and crash them in pieces and swallow them down, so that often the blood ran out of his mouth without any harm at all unto him.” He came to a glorious end in 1591 at the Battle of Flores in the Azores where he’d been sent to fleece Spanish treasure galleons returning across the Atlantic. Aboard his beloved HMS Revenge he took on a much superior Spanish force and sank 16 enemy ships before succumbing to the inevitable.  Tempting though it is, one must not concentrate solely on Kilk’s grandiose and romantic past. The community deserves its place in this series because it is a vibrant and happening place. Motorists travelling along the Atlantic highway from Bideford to Bude will know that - because of its shops and eateries there are always mini-traffic jams in Kilk. Our invitation to Kilk came from local historian Michael Heard who was born and bred in the place and who has lived there all his life. It was Michael who kindly booked the Methodist hall and brought together a number of Kilkhampton enthusiasts and long term residents.  They were Fred Cornish (aged 85, the oldest of the group), Iris Bond, parish councillors Reg Hambley and Clive Vanstone and parish council chairman Rollo McGrath. First they told us something of Kilk’s vital statistics: “The population is about 1200 – it’s gone up about 50 per cent in the past 40 years,” said the parish council chairman. “We've got three housing estates - Kilk grew and grew after the war and since then there's been some private developments which have brought people in from the outside,” commented Mr Heard. “A considerable number of these people have joined in with community activities. But it’s also a commuter village - they commute in all directions - even across the border to Bideford.  “The school now has 86 pupils in three classes, and is full and very popular,” added Mr McGrath. “In fact, Kilk is thriving. Over the years the developments have brought in younger families as well as giving homes to existing families. There’s a post office, two other shops, a butchers, two pubs, the Methodist Chapel and church…” He would have continued his list but other members of the parish council wanted to tell us how they were keen to see businesses remain in the village.  “In fact we've tried to increase the number of businesses,” said Mr McGrath. “Take the property next door to this hall – the owners wanted it turned into flats, but we insisted it remained a shop. Now it’s a picture-framers’. We’ve also got an internet cafe.” I’d noticed it as I’d strolled around the village earlier – it’s part of a pizza parlour. I also spotted a Chinese takeaway, a large electrical retailers and an intriguing looking wooden toy shop.   “That’s in what used to be a public hall called the Central Rooms - Kilk is awash with public halls,” declared Mr Heard. He started to list them but fell upon fertile ground in terms of the general conversation when he reached the football pavilion.  “We are in the process of getting a new sports pavilion,” said Mr Vanstone. “We need £150,000 for the project altogether and already we’ve raised more than half the money here in the village. We are just waiting for the last piece of the grant now - at moment we’ve got £109,000 towards it.” The need arose after the old pavilion had burned down in an arson attack, which was particularly disastrous because it wasn’t insured.  “We are hoping to start building this calendar year,” said Mr Vanstone. “There’ll be new changing facilities for two teams and officials. That’s half the building - the other half will have new public conveniences and a meeting room.” At this point the conversation developed into a listing of all Kilk’s many clubs and societies. You can have no doubt that you’re in vital village when you hear of such enthusiasm and creativity – thriving clubs and societies have been a theme in all the successful communities this series has visited so far. But what about that busy A39 – we asked - didn’t it cut community life in two?  “Six weeks a year it is a pain,” responded the parish council chairman. “The rest of the time we just get used to it. We've instigated traffic calming and put protective bollards up.” “If people don't come through the village the shops won't be so busy – and we are on the way to everywhere, so it does get very busy,” said Mr Hambley.  “It wasn’t anything like that when I was young,” remarked Mr Cornish. “A few had Austin Seven cars – it was so quiet we used to chuck an iron hoop down the main-street.” As we began to speak of Kilk’s past Mr Heard said: “You realise we speak the Devon dialect here instead of the Cornish.” There was a silence until someone commented: “Everyone in Kilk is fiercely proud to be Cornish.” Having hit one taboo I thought I’d raise the other and talk about the wreckers. Did any of the group have ancestors who’d lured ships onto the needle rocks two miles and 596 feet below the village? “There weren’t any wreckers here - not that we know of,” said Mr Heard. “It was inevitable that wrecks occurred along this coast.” I mentioned famous Parson Hawker who lived in the neighbouring parish of Morwenstow and who claimed to have been the man who convinced locals to stop wrecking ships and help stricken mariners instead.  Ah, another Kilk taboo. Don’t mention Morwenstow. And don’t insist Parson Hawker was a hero who invented the Christian event we call the Harvest Festival. “That’s one of my pet hates,” said Mr Heard. “The Methodists invented the Harvest Festival and not Hawker. He was a self-publicist.” “But what about the wreckers?” I went on, fearless as a Grenville. “When I was a boy some men would go wrecking - that is: they’d go picking up firewood and things like that on the beach that could be useful,” said the historian. “More beachcombing really…” “I remember we had a wreck at Sandy Mouth in 1944 called the Ebenezer,” said Mrs Bond. “Even though it’s two miles away you can hear the sea all the time up here in Kilk. When it’s stormy we call it the Duckpool Roar.” Mr Cornish remembered a wreck that had hit the rocks nearby. “It had  cigarettes, tinned food, nail varnish, everything… It was Christmas every day. Condoms. There were lots of condoms.” Someone joked that Kilk’s population had suffered as a result. If it did, that was rectified a long time ago - Kilkhampton looks set to be a romantic and delightful village for a long time to come.

It’s that time of year again, when the longer days and the warmer weather can inspire some good intentions. Suddenly, we’re all entering the human equivalent of a spring-clean. Tarr Steps on Exmoor Some people take their spring-time fitness fads very seriously – they sign up with gym’s and go on health and diet regimes that would cause the most hardened SAS soldier to throw in the towel. Inevitably, many of these super-fit wannabes soon realise they are living in a fantasy. You can only eat raw carrots and workout 10 hours a day for a limited period before your body or mind finds a way of escaping the tyranny. Alternatively, you could say that everything in life should be pleasurable – that’s how they teach rats to perform tricks in laboratories. If the body and mind receive pleasurable sensations, then there’s every likelihood that the person (or rat) will continue with whatever procedure he or she has been introduced to. All this “it’s got to hurt to be good for you” stuff is nonsense.  In the UK the very best way to increase your fitness is by walking. I say that because we have an ideal climate for it, and because there are countless, boundless, opportunities for us to wander freely in beautiful landscapes. This walk forms part of my complete Exmoor Walking Guide . Country walking is known to be the nation’s most popular leisure activity. Hundreds of millions of country strolls are taken every year – and the activity is on the increase.  Not that the countryside is knee-deep in hiking boots quite yet. You will rarely, if ever, see a human traffic jam on any of our footpaths - even the most popular stretches of the South West Coast Path remain uncluttered when compared to even a quiet urban street.  There are national park statistics which show that remarkably few people wander far from their cars when they’ve parked in some beauty spot or other. Nine out of ten don’t bother walking more than 500 metres.  One walking-to-fitness expert told this website: “The great thing about walking is that it’s free, requires little planning, fits easily into most people’s daily routines, needs no special equipment and, best of all, almost everyone can do it, regardless of age or where they live. All the medical evidence shows that even a modest amount of extra walking brings significant health benefits and the added advantage of walking in a group is that there’s an enjoyable social side to it, too.” Here are three spring-time walks in the West Country suitable for those nine out of ten people who are reluctant to stroll more than 500 metres. In other words, these are short, soft, circular routes that will act as a good introduction to country walking.  Being two to three miles each in length, they will both instil a sense of achievement in the non-walker – and allow them to enjoy fabulous scenery just about every step of the way.  Tarr Steps Circular - 1.9 miles – gentle going, a little rocky or muddy in places. Unless you have a disabled sticker, you must leave your vehicle at the car park half a mile above the famous clapper bridge, which makes the overall distance of this walk three miles, but if drivers are feeling generous they can drop their passengers off and do the additional descent and climb themselves in the knowledge that they’ll be all the fitter for it. Basically the walk takes you up one side of the River Barle to a newly refurbished bridge, and back down the other. Which may not sound all that exciting but this is, quite simply, one of the most beautiful stretches of any river to be found in the Westcountry.  Simply turn right at the old clapper bridge and follow the signs to Withypool. The path will take you across a large greensward (which is always thickly populated by picnickers in summer) and into the woods.  These, by the way, are internationally renown for the rare lichens that grow on the boughs of the many wonderful old trees. Just under a mile upstream the path meets another open area and, shortly after this – just after the big deep pool situated at a sharp bend in the river – you’ll come to a rather ugly, but hugely useful, bridge. Cross this, turn left, and you can walk back down the west bank of the river enjoying views that are surprisingly different from the ones you enjoyed on the other side. One bonus of this little hike is that there’s an excellent inn just a few feet above the clapper bridge. In winter it’s a dark, cosy, place of wood fires – in summer you can sit out in the gardens admiring the riverine views and the peacocks.  Bellever Tor Circular – just under three miles – gentle, easy going. The great thing about this short walk is that the exercise you get by climbing Dartmoor’s most central tor is richly rewarded by fabulous panoramas from the top.   Park at the small car park on the Two Bridges-Moretonhampstead road at Higher Cherrybrook Bridge. From here a track ascends gently to the east. After a few hundred yards it enters the forest, where it’s simply a matter of continuing east until you come across a wide, deforested swathe of land that sweeps southward to Bellever Tor.  It’s one of the only tors which offers views exclusive to the national park. In other words, Dartmoor is all you see. That’s because Bellever is situated plonk in the middle of the national park’s central plateau and you cannot peer beyond the edges to the larger world beyond. People have been living in or visiting this area for a long, long time - the whole area is rich in archaeological remains such as cairns, cists and old field systems.  To complete the walk, descend due east of the tor to re-enter the forest at a point where a small path threads its way down the hillside to eventually join one of the Forest Enterprise tracks. Following this north along the contour, continue until you reach Kraps Ring – the remains of an ancient settlement at the opposite end of the clear-felled swathe to Bellever Tor - then simply return west along the forestry tracks to Cherrybrook Bridge.  Godolphin Hill – three miles, fairly gentle and easygoing. This hike offers some of the best views available in West Cornwall, and it’s not too strenuous despite the fact that you climb the area’s highest hill.  It doesn’t really matter which direction you approach Godolphin Hill from, you are guaranteed a good walk and if you park at wonderfully named Mount Whistle, (to the south of the hill) you are closest to the summit. Before walking a few yards up the Millpool lane to find the footpath, take a quick look at the engine house. The National Trust has cleared the scrub so that you can explore the place, but don’t go if you’re frightened of big black holes. At the foot of the chimney there is a bottomless pit, thankfully capped by a heavy-duty grating so that you can peer in the void without falling in.  The footpath heads north towards Godolphin Hill between a productive looking leek field and a yard full of junk. But this is all part of the charm of this corner of Cornwall – you get the feeling that the people around here are farmers and flower growers – not tourism providers. You gain access to the great dome-shaped moorland by crossing an ancient granite stile. Paths shoot off in all directions, but take the one that heads towards the top. Be warned - it switches and turns so that occasionally you are tempted to take one of the smaller paths that looks more determined in its upward course. Don’t. You’ll be lead on a wild and brambly goose-chase. Stick with the bendy one, and it’ll get you to the summit. From there you can see almost all of West Cornwall - from the giant dishes of Goonhilly Down way to the south, right around the coast to St Michael’s Mount five miles distant, and beyond to Penzance. There’s an excellent panorama of the westernmost moors of Penwith and these lead up to distant St Ives where begins our view of the north coast, stretching past Hayle and its Towans all the way to St Agnes Beacon and Carn Brea. A path descends northeast from the summit and leads to the wood-lined lane called The Slips, which in turn will take you down to the edge of the garden at Godolphin House. Turn west here, along a track called Vane’s Lane which skirts the hill until you reach another path on your left which will return you along the side of a field, back up to the moorland part of the hill. Now it is simply a matter of turning right and following the perimeter path right around the western base of the great cone, back to the ancient granite stile.

Discover the Beauty of Selworthy Village and Bossington Hill Introduction: Discovering the Selworthy Circular Walk Escape the social media noise and reconnect with nature on a beautiful walk through the picturesque Selworthy village in West Somerset. This scenic circular route around Bossington Hill offers stunning views, a touch of history, and an opportunity to explore the unique landscape of Exmoor National Park. The Charming Periwinkle Cottage Tearoom Start your journey at the famous Periwinkle Cottage Tearoom, a delightful spot to enjoy a cup of tea and a slice of cake before setting off on your walk. Nestled in the heart of Selworthy, this tearoom is a must-visit attraction, providing a taste of old-world charm. This walk forms part of my complete Exmoor Walking Guide. Selworthy's Rich History and Picture-Postcard Beauty As you walk through Selworthy, take a moment to appreciate its unique blend of history and natural beauty. The village's white-painted church and thatched cottages surrounding The Green date back to the 19th century, while the ancient clock mechanism within the church tower adds a touch of timeless charm. Exploring Selworthy Combe and Lady Acland’s Hut Begin your walk by following the footpath north up wooded Selworthy Combe. When the track splits, take the right-hand fork until you reach Lady Acland's Hut. This charming chalet offers a serene resting spot amidst a beautiful birch forest, reminiscent of a Russian landscape. Ascending to Selworthy Beacon and Admiring the Views Continue up the hill to Selworthy Beacon, taking in the breathtaking views of Wales, the Bristol Channel, the Quantocks, the Brendons, and Exmoor's Dunkery Beacon. The panoramic vistas make the climb worth every step. South West Coast Path and Hurlestone Point Follow the South West Coast Path down to Hurlestone Point. For those with a head for heights, a side path leads past incredible cliffs to the old Coastguard Look-Out. As you make your way back, traverse the higher path above the picturesque village of Bossington, owned primarily by the National Trust. Immerse Yourself in the Evergreen Oak Woods As you return to Selworthy, the path leads through a dense evergreen oak forest, home to Britain's largest stand of Ilex trees. The thick canopy and Mediterranean atmosphere create a sense of enchantment and mystery. Back to The Green: End Your Journey with a Cream Tea Finish your walk back at The Green in Selworthy, where you can indulge in a well-deserved cream tea at the Periwinkle Cottage Tearoom. Enjoy the quaint atmosphere and beautiful surroundings, leaving the social media frenzy behind. Fact File: Selworthy Circular Walk Details Basic route: Selworthy Green to Selworthy Beacon, descending to Hurlestone Point, and returning through the evergreen oak woods Recommended map: Ordnance Survey OL9 – Exmoor Distance & Difficulty: 6 miles, steep in places

Dunkery is the purple headed mountain. Not many people realise that because of course it’s not really a mountain at all – but that’s how the writer of All Things Bright and Beautiful so famously described Exmoor’s highest hill when she was admiring its heather clad slopes more than a century ago.  Dunkery Beacon from the south Mrs Cecil Frances Alexander, wife of the then Archbishop of Armagh and Primate of All Ireland, was holidaying at Dunster and was so impressed by the area that she wrote the famous hymn after climbing Grabbist above the village and gazing up the Avill Valley. The upper end of this sublime vale is dominated by the huge mass of Dunkery which, though not really a mountain with a modest altitude of 1760 feet, certainly looks impressive its neighbouring parish which border the sea.   And apart from being promoted to mountain it’s perhaps right and proper that Dunkery should have a claim to fame that is directly related to religion – West Somerset folk have always held their big eminence in somewhat sacred regard… For centuries they believed in a supernatural phenomenon which, it was claimed, appeared up on the summit every Easter – though exactly how the Lamb of God manifested itself I'm not quite sure. The good people from the nearby villages of Cutcombe and Luccombe would march up to the lofty Beacon and watch for the apparition which appeared in the sky - and I can only presume that what they saw was something akin to the sun-dog, or parhelia, which is a sort of twin-sunset caused by ice crystals forming high in the atmosphere (not quite as uncommon in westerly areas as you may think). There’s no doubt that you feel a lot closer to God up there - all West Country hills boast good views, it’s an essential part of their job, but many people agree that Dunkery comes tops for mighty panoramas.  From where else could you see the Pembrokeshire Coast, the distant Cambrian Mountains, Brecon Beacons, Black Mountains, Forest of Dean, the Malverns, the southern bastions of the Cotswolds, both Severn bridges, the Mendips, Quantocks, Blackdowns, Dartmoor, Bodmin Moor and even the English Channel sparkling through Sidmouth Gap? It’s an impressive list and an even more impressive sight – but you need a good day and when I was there earlier this week I could hardly see the big pile of stones that marks Dunkery summit let alone the Severn Sea or anything beyond.  But it was a good bleak day to recall the two wretched Huguenot ladies who once lived in a hovel hereabouts. Who they were, and where they came from, remains a mystery - but it’s believed they were aristocrats who 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. Apparently all that was found in their hilltop shelter - apart from their two withered bodies clutching one another – were the remains of the slugs and snails upon which they’d tried to exist.   This walk forms part of my complete Exmoor Walking Guide .  Look down over the remote vastness of Codsend Moors – the desolate empty slopes which make up the southern flanks of Dunkery - and you can almost hear the rattle of their bones. This featureless plain was once the centre of national attention. It was all to do with the gruesome end of Mollie Phillips, an Exford girl who was found dead in a bog on Codsend. In 1930 - some 18 months after her disappearance - a Minehead coroner's jury put her demise down to misadventure, declaring she’d drowned after being swallowed by the mire.  Local folk were having none of it: Mollie disappeared on September 8th 1929 - a dry September that followed a long dry summer – and those who knew the place reckoned its bogs would not have been dangerous after such a long period of drought. Having walked the area in similar conditions, I agree - there are very few quagmires around after a long hot summer and the likelihood of being swallowed up by one seems most unlikely. Not that I’d fancy walking over Codsend Moor much in the wet weather we’ve been having this week. It was altogether more clement up here on the Dunkery range some 4,000 years ago when Britain was enjoying something of a Mediterranean climate, and the big hill is dotted with Dunkery from the north the ancient enclosures and settlements of folk who were able to live so high above sea level in those times. An archaeologist with the wonderful name of Rainbird Clarke once discovered a ring of stones on the summit of Dunkery which may or may not have been the remains of some early chieftain's hut.  But it is the ruined cottage in Bagley Combe on the northern slopes of the hill that haunts my mind every bit as much as the fate Mollie Phillips and the unfortunate Huguenots. For in that deep tree-lined valley a hamlet once thrived until the plague wiped out the inhabitants - except for one... A note in my dusty files reveals the following note about this remote and seldom visited place: “There is a ruined cottage whose derelict garden still contains flowers and some decayed outbuildings. The last inhabitant lived there alone and one day three men arrived there on a drunken frolic from Porlock. “They told the solitary man that it was known he'd been sheep stealing and that he was shortly to be arrested. He was entirely innocent of the offence, but the threat of the arrest so played upon his mind that he hanged himself. His ghost haunted the place and none would ever live there afterwards...” That makes three grim stories for one hill, but it is difficult to remain depressed in this fresh-air zone where ocean breezes never cease to play. The massive Dunkery range boasts some of the best walking to be found anywhere in the Westcountry – you’ll not only be treated to the aforementioned views, but you are just about guaranteed to see wild red deer. One particularly delightful right-of-way frequented by these creatures is beautiful, Dicky's Path which passes Birchanger Spring. In my Exmoor files, passed down to me by my father, there’s a note about this place written by a mysterious correspondent of his called 'Afghan'… “The water was reputed to be famous for its healing qualities and it was supposed to be warm in the winter and cold in the summer,” says Afghan. “An old man told me that when he was a lad living at Luccombe where he was born, he was paid a penny for each can full of water he brought back to the village for two old ladies." Two old ladies? Surely it couldn’t have been the Huguenots? They didn’t have any pennies.  Just another of this purple headed mountain’s many mysteries. To find the answer to them and perhaps every other mystery, you must consult the Lamb of God.

International travel usually depends on stable mobile data access for maps, bookings, and communication. Airports, transit systems, and unfamiliar streets can make reliable connectivity feel essential. Digital SIM technology offers an alternative to physical cards that require swapping. A bit of preparation helps reduce avoidable issues before departure. Device Compatibility Comes First Phone compatibility should always be the first checkpoint before any purchase. A global eSIM works only on devices that support embedded SIM technology and proper software versions. Model type, carrier lock status, and system updates all influence activation success. Checking these details early helps prevent setup problems after arrival. Unlocked devices usually provide greater flexibility for digital profiles across different regions. Carrier restrictions can block installation on certain handsets even if the device supports eSIM. A quick review of device settings and manufacturer lists can confirm eligibility. This step aids smoother activation once the travel period begins. Coverage Zones and Network Partners Matter Coverage differs widely depending on regional agreements between providers and local carriers. Some plans span many countries but connect through different partner networks in each destination. Signal strength, speed, and reliability may vary between major cities and remote areas. Reviewing coverage maps and partner lists helps set practical expectations. Details Worth Reviewing Before Purchase Several coverage-related points deserve close attention: Countries and regions included in the plan Local network partners in major travel stops Data speed caps or reduced speed thresholds Support for hotspot sharing or tether use These details help match the plan to the travel route and expected device use. Clear information about local networks may help improve reliability across borders. Careful review reduces the risk of weak service in key locations. Data Allowance and Validity Period Data volume should reflect how the device will be used during travel days. Map apps, social media, video calls, and cloud services consume data at different rates. Short city stays may require less data than long multi-country trips. Estimating daily use helps avoid unexpected data limits. Validity periods also vary between providers and plan types. Some packages activate at installation, while others start at the first network connection. Expiry rules determine how long the data remains usable once active. Check whether validity counts calendar days or usage days Confirm if unused data rolls over or expires fully Review top-up options in case data runs low Note time zone differences that affect expiry timing Installation Steps and Activation Rules Setup instructions vary between providers and device types. A global eSIM profile may require scanning a QR code, while other plans use manual entry codes or app-based setup. Stable internet access is often needed during installation to download the digital profile. Completing setup before departure may help improve readiness right after arrival. Key Points to Confirm During Setup: Whether WiFi is required for profile download If multiple profiles can be stored on the device Steps to switch between primary and travel lines Instructions for deleting or reinstalling a profile Activation triggers can differ. Certain plans begin once the profile is fully installed on the device. Others activate only when the handset connects to a supported foreign network for the first time. Knowing the start condition helps manage available days more effectively. Support Access and Troubleshooting Support access becomes important if technical issues appear during travel. Chat tools, email help, and knowledge bases aid quick problem resolution. Language options and time zone coverage also matter for support services. Travelers may require help outside regular office hours. Reliable mobile access has become a key part of modern travel planning. A global eSIM that matches device compatibility, coverage zones, data needs, and support access helps with stable travel connectivity. Technical details reviewed in advance support better preparation before departure.

During the recent British Guild of Writers AGM trip to the Isle of Man we had the pleasure of travelling on a couple of that magical land’s heritage railways. Remarkably, the island boasts not one but three heritage railways - the Isle of Man’s Steam Railway, the Manx Electric Railway and the Snaefell Mountain Railway. I think the last of these was closed during early February when we were there - maybe because the mountain was covered in snow. Certainly the police had shut the mountain road.  Anyway, the Isle of Man, known for its rugged coastline, medieval castles, and rural landscapes, has a long-standing tradition of railway transport - and the Manx Electric Railway has a place in history all of its own… It is one of the oldest electric railways in the world. Established in 1893, it has been operating continuously for over a century, making it not only a crucial part of the island’s transport heritage but also a significant attraction for tourists and railway enthusiasts. Weaving approximately 17 miles over hill and dale, the Manx Electric Railway runs along the eastern coast of the island from the capital, Douglas, to the towns of Laxey and Ramsey. This route showcases some of the most spectacular coastal and countryside views the island offers, making the journey an attraction in itself. We were fortunate to be offered a special one-off winter service from Laxey to Ramsey.  The electric railway's history is intertwined with the Isle of Man's development as a tourist destination in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The coming of the railway made the island's scenic beauty and quaint villages more accessible to visitors, contributing significantly to the local tourism industry.  The construction was a remarkable engineering achievement at the time, reflecting the era's innovative spirit and technological advancement. One of the most distinctive features is the fleet of vintage tramcars, some of which date back to the original service’s early days. These tramcars have been meticulously maintained and restored, providing a unique and authentic experience for passengers.  The Manx Electric Railway prides itself on being more than just a means of transportation - it is a living museum that offers insights into the history of electric rail travel. Indeed, the journey provides a glimpse into a bygone era, from the clatter of the tramcars along the tracks to the breathtaking views of the Irish Sea and the lush Manx countryside. I loved the sunny morning trip we took - and would certainly say that the electric railway is a must-visit attraction if you’re ever on the Isle of Man. The Castletown narrow gauge railway is another must-see - and has been a significant feature of Manx life since the late 19th century. As many will know narrow gauge railways are often used for mountainous or rural areas where the construction of a standard gauge line would be more complicated and costly. The story of the Castletown railway dates back to the late 1800s, a period when the Isle of Man was developing its transportation infrastructure to boost tourism and provide essential services to remote areas.  The railway was initially built to transport goods and passengers between various points on the island, contributing significantly to the economic and social development of the area. One of the most distinctive features of the Castletown narrow gauge railway are the steam locomotives which have been meticulously maintained and restored.  The railway not only serves as a functional mode of transportation but also as a moving museum, showcasing the rich industrial heritage of the Isle of Man. The route provides passengers with wonderful views as it meanders through picturesque landscapes, including low lying pasture-lands, rolling hills, and quaint villages.  The railway is a significant tourist attraction to the very south of the island, drawing railway enthusiasts and visitors from around the world. The operation and maintenance is often undertaken by dedicated volunteers, passionate about preserving this unique piece of Manx history.

We were on a walking tour of Menorca a while ago and our final hike was an extensive coastal trek to explore what is arguably the island's most untamed region. Parque Natural de s'Albufera des Grau, located in northeastern Menorca, encompasses 500 hectares of diverse ecosystems, including wild olive groves, wetlands, secluded coves, islands, and coastal dunes. This remarkable natural reserve is one of Menorca's most remarkable landscapes, featuring unique flora and wildlife. Among the numerous species that inhabit the park, the rich diversity of birds and reptiles makes it a must-visit destination for nature enthusiasts. During our hike, we were lucky enough to encounter one of its famous tortoises, an iconic symbol of the park's biodiversity. Discovering Parque Natural de s'Albufera des Grau Parque Natural de s'Albufera des Grau is Menorca's largest protected area, offering visitors a glimpse into the island's unspoiled natural beauty. This diverse landscape, spanning 500 hectares, is a testament to Menorca's commitment to preserving its ecological heritage. As part of the UNESCO Biosphere Reserve, the park underscores the importance of conservation and sustainable tourism on the island. While exploring its various habitats, visitors are greeted by a mosaic of landscapes, ranging from tranquil wetlands and coastal dunes to dense olive groves and rugged coves. The wetlands are particularly crucial for the wide variety of bird species that thrive in the park, making it a popular destination for birdwatchers. The area is teeming with avian life year-round, including flamingos, herons, and ospreys. The park's unique microclimate supports a diverse range of Mediterranean plant species, which adds to its ecological richness. Walking through the olive groves, one can savor the earthy fragrance of wild olives and admire native orchids that dot the landscape. A Coastal Adventure from Favaritx Lighthouse to Es Grau Our journey began at the iconic Favaritx Lighthouse, dramatically perched on a rugged stretch of Menorca's northeastern coastline. This striking black-and-white striped beacon, surrounded by a desolate rocky landscape, provided the perfect backdrop for our exploration of one of Menorca's wildest regions. The stark terrain around the lighthouse gradually gave way to coastal trails that meandered along the shoreline, offering spectacular views of the turquoise Mediterranean waters crashing against the rocks below. As we headed south from Favaritx, the trail took us past remote beaches and hidden coves, far removed from the island's busier tourist areas. One of the most memorable points along our route was the peninsula of Cabo Mosena, which provided panoramic views of the rugged coastline and the expansive sea beyond. This stretch of coast is a powerful reminder of Menorca's untamed beauty, where one can feel a deep connection to the natural environment. The trail eventually led us to the quaint coastal village of Es Grau, a small fishing community that retains much of its authentic Menorcan character. Es Grau is known for its calm, shallow waters, making it popular with locals for swimming and kayaking. The village provides a stark yet delightful contrast to the wild landscape of the park, with its charming houses and welcoming atmosphere. After the long hike, Es Grau was the perfect spot to relax and reflect on the day's adventure while enjoying traditional Menorcan cuisine at a local seaside café. Wildlife and Natural Wonders Parque Natural de s'Albufera des Grau is home to an impressive array of wildlife. Bird enthusiasts will be captivated by the diversity of species that inhabit the park, including purple herons, booted eagles, and red kites. The wetlands serve as an essential resting place for migratory birds, making it a prime location for birdwatching, especially during the spring and autumn migration periods. The park is also a haven for reptiles, with Menorca's famous tortoises being among its most iconic inhabitants. These ancient creatures are a common sight, slowly navigating the underbrush or basking in the warm Mediterranean sun. Additionally, the park is home to various lizard species, adding to the sense of stepping into a pristine, undisturbed natural world. Planning Your Visit to Parque Natural de s'Albufera des Grau If you are planning a visit to Menorca, exploring Parque Natural de s'Albufera des Grau should be a priority. Whether you are an experienced hiker or simply looking for a leisurely walk in nature, the park offers trails of varying levels of difficulty, allowing visitors of all abilities to experience its beauty. The route we took from Favaritx Lighthouse to Es Grau is just one of many ways to explore the park, but it provides an unforgettable experience for those who appreciate coastal scenery and remote landscapes. For those interested in learning more about the park, guided tours are available, offering deeper insights into the unique ecosystems and wildlife that thrive here. The park's visitor centre is also an excellent resource, providing maps, information about local flora and fauna, and recommendations for the best routes to take. Conclusion: Menorca's Hidden Gem Parque Natural de s'Albufera des Grau is undoubtedly one of Menorca's hidden treasures. Its diverse landscapes, rich wildlife, and dramatic coastal views make it a must-see for anyone wishing to connect with nature and explore the island's wilder side. Reflecting on our introductory hike, I’m keen to return and explore the area more thoroughly. There is something captivating about the unspoiled beauty of this region. If you are seeking an authentic Menorcan experience, away from the more crowded tourist spots, Parque Natural de s'Albufera des Grau offers an adventure that will leave you with enduring memories of the island's wild heart.

Many years ago I wrote an article about my father’s great friend, one Harry Horrobin, who was a well known figure with his wife Betty living in the village where Iu reside now. The article was published in The Guardian and recently someone sent me a cutting… He are the words I wrote, taken from a very old file of mine filled with old bit of copy paper… HARRY HORROBIN is a retired blacksmith who can’t resist a symbolic cut when he’s out snowballing. Once it’s done, he gives himself up to the police. Or sometimes he has to drive all the way to the police station to admit to his crime. The officers, alas, are seldom interested. “Last time we went into the nearest town to give ourselves up, but the local constabulary didn’t want to know,” says Harry. “They telephoned the military police who got quite flustered when we insisted on being arrested. They just took our names and addresses and told us not to do it again.” Mr. Horrobin’s enthusiasm to be put both sides of the law is something of an example among the raggle-taggle protestants of the West Country. When Mr. Horrobin says he goes snowballing, he’s not referring to a nice old Hillman Hunter or a toboggan. Lots of other people have been snowballing too — reaching some dreadful military installation, they inform the powers that be that they’re going to do something illegal. Mr. Horrobin, as befits a retired blacksmith, steps forth from the crowd with wire cutters akimbo in his burly hands. Snip, and the wire is broken. Inside, military personnel watch while these civilised, courteous, bearded old warriors go bonk into the night. Then our hero gets back into his old Hillman Hunter and drives to the nearest police station. The missile, or whatever it was, still points at millions of innocent women and children. The police, or whoever they are, really don't want to make fuss because Mr. Horrobin is 75 years old, his charming wife Betty clutches at his sandwiches and old fashioned anorak. She is 70. “What shall we do with these two old newspapers? Will we lock them up and see what the Guardian down here in no time?” So Mr. Horrobin drives home in his sedate manner, and writes a report for the local peace group. Then, after a cup of tea and a nap, he climbs the tiny staircase to his ancient workshop to study the back of an as-yet unused violin. And here, in the gloom of the evening, with the quietly grumbling voice of a Harrier Jump Jet taking off at rabbit’s ears as it hops to the escarpment, Mr. Horrobin ponders upon a world so keen on violence, yet so in love with music. Even Harry’s own two hands are guilty of the hypocrisy. When their owner was an armourer in the RAF, he certainly did their best for the machines of war. But that was a long time ago and nowadays the Horrobin hands devote themselves to making and playing violins. “2,000 years ago we were exhorted to turn our swords into ploughshares and our spears into pruning hooks,” he says. “As an armourer and blacksmith I know that this is possible. I not only know how it can be done, but I have done it myself.” “During the last two world wars we set up tons of gates and railings to make armaments, but now we have the reverse. Now we have weapons that can never be turned into ploughshares and pruning hooks because they are radioactive forever.” Thoughts like these undoubtedly swim through the slow-but-sure villager once he’s stopped snowballing for the day. All very well to sit about finding new violations and generally enjoying ancient ceremonies, but it all comes up against a sad truth. “Up an old Devon valley that morning went a charming estate hunt with beagles and hounds, sniffing after a tiny rabbit which had been disturbed by the anti-nuclear men,” says his wife Betty. “And when we got back I found that my husband had turned into a fully fledged campaigner and that he was starting a village peace group. Still, he was always going on about something, and I was glad to see him doing something about it.” Since then the Horrobins have marched on tirelessly. The most odd place they have marched through is the check-in at Bournemouth. Mr. Horrobin has also been buried up to his knees in mud at the Glastonbury music festival in order to sell his hand-made badges for the ex-Services CND selling his own home-made peace and alternative paraphernalia. Other ageing septuagenarians find the energy for a trip to London, maybe go to Covent Garden, perhaps, with the day’s shopping in mind. The Horrobins can be sure that they will be spending the night before camped outside some secret fence in the middle of the Wiltshire countryside, up to their ankles in mud, wood, or even snow. Harry gets through several sets of small, hard shoes each year as his feet plod around the country lanes with badges and more badges. One local paper has this to say about his workshop: “This ancient room is filled with ancient tools and oil lamps, as well as his daughter’s painting of an owl. Everything is clean and Harry Horrobin especially enjoys the atmosphere shortly after cleaning. “Words and Emigrated from Harry.” He smiled and said enigmatically: “Who will wash the rain?”

The Joy of Jersey Royals: Spring’s First Great Harvest Cornish Earlies will be with us soon, offering their own delightful contribution to the new potato season. But in the meantime, a kind soul from the Channel Islands has sent me a generous bag of Jersey Royals — a potato which many would describe as the king of spring spuds. Not that I need to try them, of course. I buy them the moment they appear each year. Jersey Royals have a special place in the British culinary calendar. Grown exclusively on the island of Jersey, these nutty, waxy, delicately flavoured potatoes are one of the few foods in the UK to hold PDO (Protected Designation of Origin) status. The flavour and texture are, apparently, the product of unique island terroir: mineral-rich soil, a mild maritime climate, and traditional farming methods that date back centuries. I would just say that there used to be some spuds that were even more delicious - the old Home Guard variety of ultra-early new potatoes that were once grown on the Isles of Scilly. They were certainly the very best I’ve ever eaten—and I think that was partly because they were often grown under very deep coverings of seaweed, which undoubtedly helped to impart some of the flavour. How to Cook Jersey Royals: Keep It Simple The key to enjoying Jersey Royals is not to overcomplicate things. They shine brightest when they’re allowed to speak for themselves. Boiled gently in salted water — just until tender, never mushy — and then tossed with a good handful of freshly picked mint and, let’s be honest, far more butter than is strictly necessary, they become the very definition of a seasonal treat. In fact, they’re so good that I’m more than happy to eat them entirely on their own. No meat, no fish, no sauce — just a bowl of glossy, butter-drenched Jersey Royals, some good sea-salt, maybe a grind of black pepper, and I’m in potato heaven. Perhaps a soft-boiled egg or a few slivers of smoked mackerel on the side. But really, they need very little. Try them as a treat in their own right.

When you’re in a big city like Tokyo - and they don’t get much bigger than Tokyo - it’s always good to have a mate you can call on. That is exactly what happened to me when I was visiting the Japanese capital. An old Somerset friend called Adam Kennedy - who has lived in the city for the past 17 years - showed me around and introduced me to his friends. While in Tokyo Martin stayed at The Candeo Hotel Roppongi - visit www.candeohotels.com for more details.

What’s the zaniest, craziest, thing you could do food-wise at Christmas or during midwinter? I’m not talking about boiling the turkey or mashing the sprouts or anything so daft or mundane… Instead I am interested in suggestions that really push the boat out - like having a beach picnic in the teeth of a raging December gale, for example. Why Wait for Summer? The Joy of the Winter Picnic That is what North Devon’s well-known purveyor of seafood, Dan the Fishman, and I decided to do one cold winter’s day. As we both work alone, away from any kind of company office, neither of us get invited to the usual Christmas work shindigs - so we thought it might be a good idea to stage our own right out there on the wild Atlantic coast. And why not? Why not do something a bit different and memorable? At the end of the day, life is all about memories - and, once it’s been swallowed, food is too. So why not do something interesting, different, colourful and memorable at this time of the year when everything tends to get covered in tinsel and can become just a bit repetitious and unremarkable? Hikers often mutter an oft-used phrase first coined by Alfred Wainwright when it comes to meteorological conditions at this time of the year: “There’s no such thing as bad weather - there’s just unsuitable clothing.” Which is basically how some eccentric folk (me included) regard the idea of dining al-fresco in an English winter. Why should a picnic or a beach-cook-up be limited to just the few short months of summer we have in this country?  I’m not prescribing that everyone head for the beaches at a drop of a hat this Christmas, but a well planned excursion undertaken with the help of some good warm weatherproofs can provide you with more lasting memories than 100 office parties or drab Christmas dinners endured on sufferance.  Spume and Salt-Spray: Meeting Dan the Fishman at Hartland Quay We chose the wildest bit of coast we could find, donned the kind of waterproofs which the late Wainwright would have approved, built a fire and piled on the fish for a seafood extravaganza, just a few feet from where the marine creatures were caught or harvested by Dan Garnett’s fish-crew. “We’re going to cook up a festive fish treat with our merry crew,” beamed Dan as the WMN contingent reached a spume-covered, salt-sprayed Hartland Quay. “We are going out on the beach - to prove that we can go out on the beach - and enjoy some good local produce at this festive time of the year.  “We’ve got local oysters and fizz - then we are going to have a taste-off with some gravlax I’ve made and some from Plaistow Mills on Exmoor. After that we’re going to send the youngsters across the beach to collect shellfish - some mussels, limpets and winkles - and boil those off in a broth of cider. “And I’m gong to pan fry on the fire a nice bit of local hake landed just around the corner at Appledore.” Happy Fishmass": Dining in the Teeth of a Gale Dan loves this sort of day out, and his enthusiasm is infectious… “The sun’s out, the sea is nice. This is Devon! We get sunshine here 300 days a year,” he grinned, brushing off any suggestion that his meteorological statistics may have been on the optimistic side. “A whacking great big storm has just gone by - which is why the waves are so big - I’m glad we are all ashore and safe on the beach. You don’t mess with this coast,” he continued, as I reported the loss of an expensive GoPro camera (my own fault entirely) which had been snatched by an unusually enormous wave.  “A camera is a loss to you, but many people have come to grief around here down the years.  “Just eat and enjoy,” laughed the bearded wonder, patting me on the back. “The wild foraged shellfish with a bit of seaweed for extra flavour has made a fantastic broth now that I’ve added a bit of cider and butter. “This is real festive food,” grinned a hugely satisfied Dan. “It’s worth pushing the boat out at this time of the year. Come on down to the beach! Everything tastes better when you’ve got your own fire and you’re eating.  “Here we are surrounded by crashing waves - this is Christmas… A Happy Fishmass to you all!” Dan the Fishman’s hake with foraged seafood broth “Find a good beach where you’re allowed to build a fire and it’s safe,” says Dan Garnett. “Make a fire-pit from beach stones - use dry logs and driftwood. Light the fire place a flat griddle over it when it’s getting super hot. As the fire its getting into its stride, forage for handful mussels, limpets, winkles and seaweed. In a small saucepan soften shallots and red pepper which you’ve diced finely and add some crushed garlic to the sizzling butter. Add a glug of dry local cider then throw in your washed and rinsed shellfish and seaweed.  Bring to the boil and add the rest of cider with lid on for five to seven minutes (longer if you have limpets). In a buttered frying pan cook the hake fillet skin down, turning only once. To the shellfish, add a tablespoon of double cream and season with pepper. No salt is required in this dish as the shellfish will have plenty. Finally, sieve the shellfish broth liquid over your cooked fish - dip some good bread into your delicious broth and eat. Dan the Fishman’s beach recipe for three fish thermidor - serves four “This is a really, fast one pot dish that can be cooked on the beach, delicious and health just right for happy hungry winter walkers or surfers.  First make a small fire with drift wood and dry kindling. Place stones from the beach around it to support an improvised grill. In order to place your cooking pot on it. Get the fire really hot and cook on the hot embers. Alternatively, use a gas cooking ring.” Ingredients:- Fresh live cockles in the shell, good handful  Local sustainable pollock, filleted 454 gms approx Undyed natural oak smoked haddock fillet 227 gms approx Salmon fillet, 350gms. Approx 5 shallots or one large onion 1 red and green pepper 4 cloves garlic Fresh or dried herbs of your choice I like mixed herbs du province, one desert spoon full Noilly Pratt or white wine Dijon smooth mustard Double cream Salt and fresh ground black pepper Finely chopped parsley, two dessertspoonfuls Method:- Wash and rinse cockles in plenty of fresh water. Heat pan on hot fire, add whole cockles, and let them steam with lid on for a minute. Add a good glug of Noilly Pratt or wine keep lid on until the cockles open. Carry on cooking with the lid off for 2 minutes stirring occasionally, letting the cooking liquid evaporate a little. Remove from heat, carefully take the cockle meat out of their little shells, put them to one side and drain off the cooking liquid into a container While the cockles cook, finely dice shallots, peppers and garlic - add to the pan with a little oil and gently sweat until soft stirring frequently. Add chopped herbs. Keep the heat low add a few spoonfuls of the cooking liquid. Skin the fish and cut into big chunks, now add to pan keeping on a medium heat and gently stir. After a couple of minutes add two desert spoonfuls of mustard keep stirring to allow the vinegar in the mustard to evaporate. Add the cockles. When the fish is soft and nearly cooked add a few spoonfuls of retained cooking liquor. Taste and season with pepper and maybe a little salt. Remember the smoked haddock is already salty. Add the chopped parsley. To finish the dish stir in one desert spoonful per person of double cream.  Stir and serve with warmed French bread and a glass of dry white wine “A real taste of the sea and hopefully a great view.” www.clovellyfish.com  Dan - whose real name is Dan Garnett - works across North Devon selling and promoting local fish

We’ve talked about the virtues of wild garlic before in these pages, but we're going to do it again because it is looking like a fantastic year for the stuff. Moreover, I have recently learned to enjoy the value of a simple wild garlic omelette. Fresh eggs, a few of the pungent leaves finely chopped, a touch of salt and pepper and a generous dollop of butter. Nothing could be easier – a great way to start the day… Foraging Wild Garlic: Be Careful What You Pick But be warned – while there are great swathes of delicious and highly edible wild garlic growing in many parts of the West Country at present, you must pick carefully. Do not grab big sweeping handfuls – because some very nasty and equally green stuff can be growing amongst your favourite wild harvest. As you can see in the two photos above, I didn’t have to go far to snap a photo of the potential dangers. At this time of year, wild garlic grows at more or less the same time as cuckoo-pint (or lords and ladies, or Arum maculatum, to give the proper name). This strange plant, which will eventually grow a spike of bright red berries, is toxic and you do not want to be eating it. Yet the leaves, although a different shape, are almost identical in colour to wild garlic and the two often grow side by side. I took this photo in my own garden – indeed, I see them growing together in all my favourite wild garlic spots. So be warned. A Curious Cousin: The Story of Cuckoo-pint and “Portland Sago” When I looked all this up, I was amazed to discover that the root of the cuckoo-pint is edible – as long as you roast it for a long time and grind it into a powder. It was once traded under the name Portland sago and was used like something called salep (orchid flour) to make saloop, a drink popular before the introduction of tea or coffee. It was also used as a substitute for arrowroot. However, unless world food supplies go belly-up at the hands of President Trump, I don’t think I’ll bother trying it. Spring Recipes Featuring Wild Garlic Instead, I will be experimenting with dishes that benefit from the addition of wild garlic . My list starts with: Wild garlic pesto – a classic, vibrant sauce that can be used in countless ways Wild garlic soup – a creamy and flavourful spring treat Wild garlic butter – perfect for spreading on bread, melting over vegetables, or adding to grilled meats Infused wild garlic oil – a wonderful finishing drizzle for salads, pasta, and pizzas I also make a wild garlic risotto, and add the leaves to pasta dishes, stir-fries and salads. Although do go sparingly with the latter, as the raw stuff can kick like a garlicky mule. All in all, wild garlic’s versatility makes it a fantastic seasonal ingredient for springtime cooking. From Omelettes to Risotto: Spring Recipes 1. Wild Garlic Pesto Ingredients : 100g wild garlic leaves (washed) 50g toasted pine nuts (or walnuts) 50g grated Parmesan 150ml olive oil Juice of ½ lemon Salt and pepper to taste Method : Blitz the wild garlic, nuts, and cheese in a food processor. Slowly drizzle in the olive oil while blending until smooth. Add lemon juice, salt and pepper to taste. Store in a jar in the fridge and use within a week. Great with pasta, drizzled over grilled veg, or spooned into soups. 2. Creamy Wild Garlic Soup Ingredients : 1 onion, finely chopped 1 potato, peeled and diced 1 knob of butter 1 litre vegetable stock 100g wild garlic leaves, chopped 100ml single cream Salt and pepper Method : In a large saucepan, melt the butter and gently fry the onion and potato for 5–10 minutes until softened. Add the stock, bring to the boil, then simmer for 15–20 minutes until the potato is tender. Stir in the wild garlic leaves and cook for another 2 minutes. Blend the soup until smooth, then stir in the cream. Season with salt and pepper to taste. A lovely light lunch or starter – spring in a bowl.