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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

Inverness, looking along the River Ness to the north The excitement of travelling abroad while staying in one’s own country might sound like a misnomer, but it is possible as I found out last week. We took a one hour 10 minute flight to Inverness from Bristol so that we could stay in a newly revamped hotel and explore the UK’s most northerly region, and I can report that there were times when I felt we’d travelled further afield than plenty of destinations I could name where you’d need a passport. And yes, before you say it, I know Scotland is a country in its own right - indeed, I dedicated my newspaper column last weekend to supporting the idea of Scottish independence. A lonely old croft way up in Flow Country The Ease of Heading North But it was the ease of getting there that really impressed me from the get-go. Just leave your car with Holiday Extras Meet and Greet at Bristol Airport, shuffle through security and just over an hour later, step out into what really does feel like another country. I like to travel by train whenever possible, but the last time I went this far north by rail it took over 10 hours and cost far more. We paid £19 each one way on EasyJet and the moment we stepped out of the plane at Inverness airport there was a sense that we had somehow arrived in a different world. The UK had a real taste of spring last week and we were very fortunate indeed - so we used every last ray of the warm sunshine to see whatever we could in what really is one of the most beautiful countries in the world. Ambassador Hotel Inverness on Ardross Terrace overlooking River Ness Boutique Luxury at the Ambassador Hotel Inverness We were invited north of the border by a small local hotel chain. Black Sheep Hotels owns a handful of excellent establishments up in that part of the world and we began our stay at the newly revamped Ambassador, located in the heart of Inverness. The town has seen a lot of change in recent times, but few things are as impressive as the transformation of the old Strathness House on Ardross Terrace, right next to the cathedral on the famous River Ness. Now rebranded as the Ambassador Hotel, its refurbishment has been a great deal more than a lick of paint. The group, owned by the siblings Sanjay and Rachna Narang, has poured some £6 million into the site, turning two 19th-century Victorian townhouses into a boutique sanctuary. The Ambassador Hotel Inverness, opposite the cathedral The rooms are “newly appointed” in the truest sense - think 19th-century travel themes meeting modern rainfall showers and beds so comfortable they threaten to derail your itinerary. Fresh and thoughtfully done, with that pleasing sense that someone has actually considered what a guest might actually want. After a day on the road (and there would be many, many miles of road ahead for my wife and I) it felt like somewhere you could properly switch off. And that was partly thanks to the incredibly helpful and friendly staff. 19th-century travel themes meet modern luxury in the newly appointed rooms. Scottish-Indian Fusion: A Culinary Masterstroke Another masterstroke is the food. The hotel’s restaurant, Talk of the Town, has what could be called a “Scottish-Indian fusion” menu that is extremely enjoyable and satisfying. Under executive chef Sinclair Pinto, who has Michelin-star DNA, the cuisine manages to pair the Highland harvest with authentic Bombay spice. Highland harvest meets Bombay spice: Salmon tikka at the "Talk of the Town" restaurant. I realise the weather doesn’t always play ball up in Scotland. And had the mists and rain rolled in, I’d have been happy to curl up in our large suite overlooking the river and read a book - but the sun was out, so off we went to do some sightseeing. Which is a huge understatement, because we really did go for it. On one day alone, I drove our hire car some 300 miles. And why not? I repeat: Scotland is one of the most beautiful countries in the world - so if the weather is good it seems reasonable to see as much as you can. Viewpoint on the road to Bonar Bridge from Inverness Journey to the Frontier: Lairg and Bonar Bridge The route north from Inverness becomes wilder and more remote every mile you go. You pass through places whose names sound like fragments of an older language - Bonar Bridge, Lairg, Helmsdale - each one a tiny punctuation mark in a vast landscape that grows steadily wilder. At Bonar Bridge, the Kyle of Sutherland river narrows and glints beneath the road. Here the water is tidal and shifting - the surrounding hills soft and ancient. The place somehow feels like border country. You’ve left the main road behind and you are on a threshold. Beyond, the Highlands proper stretch north and west in earnest. Directly north you reach the village of Lairg, which somehow feels even more like a frontier. You still see a few fields and man-made parts of the landscape, but north and west everything is wild. War memorial at Bonar Bridge Driving the Highland Wilds For many people the drive so far may have been enough. You’ll certainly have seen some impressive countryside. But driving in the far north is not like motoring anywhere else in Britain. The roads are quieter. You can travel for miles without seeing another car. And the road surfaces - something we all grumble about down south - are far superior. I’d say the ratio of potholes in these parts is 1-to-100 compared to our own highways and byways - probably because of that lack of traffic. The driver can enjoy long, sweeping stretches of road. Driving like it used to be, is how I’d put it. You also come across lengthy sections of single track road - the one north of Lairg to Tongue is over 45 miles in length, which would be a nightmare in the busy West Country. But up here it’s fine - at this time of year, at least. We came down it after doing a huge loop up around Thurso, and we only passed one other vehicle on that entire section of single road. Wild and empty views up in Flow Country Which is just as well because the landscape demands the driver’s attention. Wide moorlands roll away to distant hills. Lochs appear unexpectedly, catching the sky in their still surfaces. The light changes constantly - a patchwork of sun and shadow drifts across peat-bog, mountain, loch and lochan. Scotland has more than 30,000 fresh water lochs. It is the kind of scenery that makes you pull over, again and again, simply to look or take a thousand photos. Helmsdale and the Flow Country Once we’d reached Lairg at the start of our lasso-shaped drive, we headed towards the coast and the village of Helmsdale which, you could say, is where the Highlands meet the North Sea. The harbour at Helmsdale It’s an attractive and historic place - a village born from the hardships of the Highland Clearances - of which we were to see plenty of evidence. Somehow the quaint fishing harbour belies the strife that went on here a couple of centuries or more ago. Harbour at Helmsdale in mercurial light Next comes “the big empty”. The drive from Helmsdale up to Thurso takes you across what’s known as the Flow Country - an area of deep peat, dotted with bog pools, that forms the heart of the Caithness and Sutherland peatlands. I’ll be honest: I did not know anything like this vast and empty landscape existed in the UK. Nor did I know that there would be so many ruined old crofts still in evidence. Even a visiting Martian could see there was a time when the human population of this wild place was removed for some reason or other. Stupidity, cruelty, and greed, being the driving force behind one George Granville Leveson-Gower, the 1st Duke of Sutherland. Sea-front at Thurso looking across to Dunnet Head Thurso and the Costa Del North No, we did not go to John O’Groats. Why not? Well, because I’ve been to famous “most westerly, southerly, easterly” places before and those tourist magnets do not appeal. And anyway, nearby Dunnet Head, which you can see, from Thurso happens to be the real “most northerly” spot in the UK. Dunnet Head as seen from Thurso And the ancient town of Thurso does hit the right boxes. Partly because it’s a fine and unpretentious little town - and also because it was lunchtime, so we enjoyed excellent fish and chips right there on Britain’s most northerly seafront promenade, looking across the Pentland Firth to the Orkneys. Looking across the Pentland Firth to the distant Orkneys From Thurso, the road bends west, and the landscape shifts again. This is perhaps the most remarkable stretch of all - a place where mountains rise more abruptly, where the land feels older and more elemental. I’d never really thought about the “Costa Del North” before, but the roof of mainland Britain is one of the most remarkable coastlines I have ever travelled along. The small road weaves its way through lonely, empty, hills - passing through isolated communities such as Dounrey, Melvich, Armadake and Bettyhill - before depositing you beside the truly magnificent sea-lock at Tongue. Wow! And thrice wow! I loved it. I loved every mile of it. The lonely north coast of Flow Country A Dreamscape Return And I wanted to continue, which is possible because that valiant little highway will take you on to Durness and eventually down the West Coast past Cape Wrath. I dearly hope I shall return to do that some other time. Because the Scottish gloaming was beginning and dark clouds marshalling their forces out west looked like they might contain more than rain. The sea-loch at Tongue You wouldn’t want to be out here if snow started falling, so we took that tiny road from Tongue all the way down to Lairg - and I mention it once again because driving down it is like travelling through a dreamscape. The emptiness of the landscape somehow enters your soul. To leave Bristol in the morning and, by lunchtime, be driving through such places is a rare and wonderful thing. It reminds you that Britain still has its wild corners. Its quiet zones. Its edges. These places are not so far away at all - and you can stay in extremely comfortable and reasonably priced places like the Ambassador Hotel. Chicken tikka at The Talk of the Town, Ambassador Hotel, Inverness Fact File Located on the banks of the River Ness, The Ambassador Hotel  is boutique hotel with 14 individually designed rooms. Telephone:  01463 232765 Email:   reservations@ambassadorinverness.com Website:   www.theambassadorinverness.com Rates:  Prices start from £376 for two nights for two people - book before 30th April 2026 to take advantage of a special summer promotion with discounts of up to 25% (on bookings taken before 25th October 2026). Travel Essentials Martin uses Holiday Extras , the market leader in UK airport parking, hotels, lounges, and transfers. In 2025 its customers saved an average of £200 per trip by booking in advance. Booking airport parking means you can enjoy more holiday with less hassle. Plus with Flextras, if you need to cancel or amend you can without charge. Five days’ Meet & Greet parking at Bristol Airport is available for £138.00 based on arrival on 16/04/2026. For more information and to book, visit HolidayExtras.com  or call 0800 316 5678. The lonesome mountains of Flow Country

The Lemon Tree Forest by Martin Hesp: A Tale of Love, Loss, and Redemption The Lemon Tree Forest is being polished for a 2026 re-release. Sign up here to be the first to know. "I am currently back in the 'engine room' with this story. Following its initial release, I am personally re-editing and polishing The Lemon Tree Forest for a special 2026 edition. Working with new formatting tools and a striking new cover design, this tale of Exmoor secrets, Mediterranean memories, and a high-stakes escape to Switzerland will be back in print and on Kindle very soon. Stay tuned for the official re-launch date—this is the version of the story I have always wanted to tell." In recent days I have been working on a novel which I wrote a couple of years ago - editing it doen and generating a few images toi help me envisage how the thing looks… Here’s a brief synopsis of the book which will be available as a paperback and an ebook soon. Climate Change and a Ruined Manor: The Start of a Journey The Lemon Tree Forest, written by Martin Hesp, begins with Sebastian Franklin, the protagonist, sitting in an old manor house in the West Country hills, troubled by climate change. As a series of heavy storms damage his home, the most recent storm collapses a wall in the ruined west wing, triggering memories of a life-changing love affair from 40 years ago. With the aid of notes and diaries from that time, Sebastian pieces together the story of his unforgettable past. From the Lemon Tree Forest to Exmoor National Park The narrative unfolds with Sebastian moving into the manor, after living in a remote part of Greece known as The Lemon Tree Forest. Settling into a new life in Exmoor National Park, he meets eccentric neighbors, like the squire who owns the big house, in an attempt to forget his recent experiences abroad. The story hints at a mysterious woman at the centre of his past troubles. Intertwining Memories and Present Life The tale dances between two locations, as Sebastian struggles to forget the sad times but regularly succumbs to his memories, despite the colorful occurrences happening around him in the West Country hills. Gradually, the diverse narratives converge, revealing Sebastian's love affair with a young Italian woman named Sasha, who had eloped with a handsome young man. A Love Affair Doomed by Family Ties As the story progresses, we learn about Sasha's domineering family and her feelings of guilt for leaving them behind. Sebastian agrees to drive her back to Northern Italy, only to discover her father is a mafia don with no intention of allowing their relationship to continue. They flee to Switzerland, where Sasha eventually vanishes, and Sebastian's life is threatened. A New Life in the Servant's Quarters Sebastian finds himself living alone in the cheap-to-rent old servant's quarters at the manor, feeling guilty for not having fought harder for his love. As the chapters alternate between the past and the present, the storylines begin to converge. Characters Sebastian meets in his new home help locate Sasha and devise a plan to reunite them. The Great Escape and a Battle for Love The narrative becomes a single thread, as Sebastian returns to Switzerland with new friends to stage "The Great Escape." Sasha is rescued from a secure clinic, and they return to England, hoping her mafia family won't find them. Their hope is short-lived, resulting in the ruined west wing and The Battle of Cooksely Manor. The book concludes with an epilogue written 40 years later, tying together the larger picture of their lives.

Set between mountains and sea, Muscat is one of the Middle East’s most quietly captivating capitals. There are no glass skyscrapers here — just whitewashed buildings, historic forts and a sense that Oman has chosen to do things its own way. No wonder they weren’t gathering in the squares of Muscat to overthrow the government during the Arabic Spring. So that’s the background and why I say you can go there and travel freely and safely in this wonderful country. Most journeys to Oman begin in the capital Muscat, which is where the modern international airport is and also where the government stages a huge annual event. The Muscat Festival attracts over 1.2 million visitors – and one year I was among them. I enjoyed my day and night out there. At the festival’s heritage and cultural village just about every Omani tradition ever invented is on display and you can watch artisans plying age-old skills as well as visit a working souk, where you can buy woven baskets, pottery and silver and so on. To be honest, though, all this is better done in the city or in the market towns of the deserts and mountains.  Muscat’s own ancient souk is a particularly wonderful location in which to duck and dive – a great myriad of a place down by the old harbour where the thoroughfares and byways are covered to protect them from the relentless sun.  The result is that the dark alleys and brightly lit shops and stalls take on a thrilling appeal of their own, and meandering around is relatively hustle-free compared with souks in other Middle Eastern cities I’ve visited.  Muscat dates from the first century AD when its harbour won a name for itself as one of the main exporters of frankincense to Greece and Rome. You can still buy excellent frankincense there today - I regularly use the stuff on my wood burning stove at home to give the house an oriental aroma.  Many centuries later the Portuguese heard about the wealth of this region and in 1507 gained control of Muscat. A century and a half later they were thrown out by local Imam - and so the ding-dong power struggle went on. You can still see old castles and turrets perched all around the ancient part of the city, so that you are left in no doubt that this was a place which required much defending down the years.  Indeed, a pleasure boat ride along Muscat’s mountainous coast just to the south of the city is a must. I was staying up the coast some 40 miles north of Muscat at the Millennium Resort, Mussanah - a luxury hotel with its own apartment complexes and harbour. It was built just a couple of years ago to play host to a massive international sailing competition and the place still acts as a hub for serious water-sports activities now.   But the Millenium Resort is also a first class hotel where the food and service is as good as anything I’ve experienced in the region before - although it has to be said that the flat coastal plain on which it is situated is far from lovely.

Eilean Donan Castle at Dornie when the tide is out Hello, fellow travel enthusiasts... We have been hugely impressed - and indeed spellbound - in recent days. Why? Because we are in the beautiful Highlands of Scotland and, unbelievably, the weather has been absolutely superb, which has been a real treat as we've been told it hasn't stopped raining for the past three weeks! Our recent travels have taken us right across the stunning landscapes of Northern Scotland. Our journey has been defined by long drives, sun-kissed scenery, and the warm hospitality of Black Sheep Hotels. The Cuillins on the Isle of Skye The Warm Welcome of Black Sheep Hotels in Inverness & Whispering Pines Our adventure began in the vibrant heart of the Highlands, Inverness, where the elegant Ambassador Hotel  by Black Sheep Hotels became our home away from home. Their hospitality and the city's unique charm set the perfect tone for our journey. We also had the pleasure of staying at the lovely Whispering Pines Hotel , which offered a truly peaceful retreat amidst the majestic beauty of the Scottish landscapes. Epic Drives: From Thurso to Skye in the Sunshine We've been blessed with some truly fabulous sunny days, perfect for those scenic Scottish drives we've all dreamt about. We've journeyed all the way up to Thurso , experiencing the raw beauty of the far north, and have also explored the magical Isle of Skye . Every twist and turn of the road revealed a new breathtaking vista, from rugged coastlines to rolling hills. More in-Depth Scottish Travel Stories to Come ! This is just a small taster of our Scottish adventure. We have so many more details, insights, and beautiful moments to share with you. Keep your eyes peeled for upcoming, more in-depth posts about our visits to Inverness, Thurso, and Skye, along with our unique experiences with Black Heep Hotels. We can't wait to share the magic of the Highlands with you! Experience the Magic of the Highlands for Yourself In the meantime, we hope you enjoy these brief highlights. Feel free to follow along on our social media for real-time updates and more breathtaking Scottish visuals. the harbour at Portree on the Isle of Skye

From Journalism to Fiction: The Origins of The Cornish Snapper A world-weary journalist suddenly finds himself working with a young female photographer. No big deal, but the thing is she turns out to be a genius when it comes to noticing tiny clues and solving mysteries. And there, in essence, is the theme of my new series of novels. The aging hack is Watson to the young woman’s Sherlock Holmes. Why am I telling you this, apart from my bid to get a cheeky advert for a newly published book? Well, because if you read this newspaper then you are probably interested in the scenic and engaging world that is our region - and you may even be interested in how we journalists get to tell its story. The Cornish Snapper: The Granite Mystery , is set in 2002 and in order to write it I looked back at my many travels as a feature writer nosing my way around the South West, and I also recalled the endless adventures I had with professional newspaper photographers (sometimes known as ‘snappers’). A Crime Story Rooted in Real Experience The name Richard Austin will be remembered by readers because he was a truly brilliant press photographer and many of the images he snapped over more than 25 years for this newspaper group will have stuck in the minds of many. He and I really did have numerous adventures working as a team. It was the early 2000s when we started working together and back then I could see how his expensive new digital cameras were helping to revolutionise everything we did in the media. Suddenly, images were instantaneous. We could examine a photo on the spot - on the screen on the back of one of Richard’s big Canon cameras - and often I remember him muttering something like: “That’s one for the front page.” Award winning photographer Richard Austin I’d write my story accordingly. Or sometimes I’d suggest getting a close-up with one of his massive telephoto lenses so I could highlight whatever it was in the ensuing article. Richard, who is now retired and living in Lyme Regis, was a remarkable professional. The only press photographer, as far as I know, ever to win both the ultimate UK awards, Press Photographer and Sports Photographer, in the same year. He would stop at nothing to get the right shot. He would, for example, lie down in a muddy field to get the right angle, climb a tree, or whatever it took to get that image just so. My late father, who worked as a journalist all this life, used to sometimes come along on my travels and he’d say: “I wish I’d had a snapper like that to illustrate my work. Those images really amplify your story. They make everything look like award-winning work.” You can see on this page a photograph I once took of Richard, snapping away at an interview high on the edge of a Cornish headland. My photo doesn’t really do it justice, but there he was hanging almost upside down on a scary slope - despite the fact that he was nervous when it came to heights. Richard Austin "upside down" on a Cornish peninsula getting just the right shot The Idea That Sparked the Series Around about that time I heard a BBC radio programme entitled something like: Is Crime Dead? A panel of crime-writers all agreed it was becoming more difficult to write about contemporary crime because solving cases was limited to specialist officers, scientists and other technical experts. It was all about things like DNA testing. There was no longer room for the enthusiastic amateur. The Miss Marples of the world had been confined to history, and so was Sherlock Holmes. That very day I was driving back from covering a murder for this newspaper, and I thought…. “Hang on. The crime reporter of a large regional daily would have plenty of excuse to be around crime scenes.” That morning the duty news-editor - a well known figure in West Country journalism - had barked instructions down the phone for me to do “something writerly”. He wanted a poignant description of the murder scene and a rather emotional account relating to the mood of the village where it happened. Which suited me. I am absolutely hopeless at almost everything else in this world and not really any good at a load of facts and figures - but I am good at being observant and I’m not bad at writing. An AI impression of Veryan Lammoran, the Cornish Snapper It turned out to be pretty gruesome and terribly, terribly sad. A little girl and her mother had been killed and it soon transpired that the man who did it had finished his own life soon afterwards. I sat in my car tapping out words on my laptop describing how the girl’s wind-chimes were ringing in the breeze of the open window of her bedroom, just above the place where she’d been shot. I asked Richard to zoom in with his big 500 mm lens and photograph the wind chimes - and that image, along with my description, duly appeared on the next day’s front page. The story upset me, as it would upset most people. But as I drove home listening to the crime-writers on the car radio, I thought how wrong they were. A newspaper reporter would have every excuse to be near a crime-scene. Indeed, knowing who we were, the police that day had let me and Richard get a little closer to the scene while they kept most members of the public well back. That’s when I had my brainwave. It would be the photographer who could get really close to details, thanks to those giant lenses mounted on the new digital cameras. Brilliant! And it would stand to reason that the reporter would be a natural fit for the Dr Watson character. Arthur Conan Doyle’s retired army doctor didn’t really have any reason to go writing down details surrounding a mystery or a crime, but that is a newspaper reporter’s job. A natural fit. The photographer, or snapper, would be Holmes and the person writing the narrative, the reporter, would be the new Dr Watson. AI image of Thomas Hamilton who 'writes' the Cornish Snapper narrative Why Cornwall Became the Perfect Setting In my spare time I quickly knocked out three different stories based on this crime-fiction pairing. And I set the mystery tales in Cornwall for a couple of reasons… One was that I rather liked the conjunction between the word “snapper” - which for the most part relates to a kind of fish - and the place which lands a great deal of this nation’s seafood. So “Cornish Snapper” seemed to have some kind of authentic a ring to it. Secondly, it was Cornwall itself. It has such a well known and unique identity. If I’d gone for my own zone of operations - the whole of the West Country - it could come across as being more vague or amorphous. The windswept granite moors, the wild coast with its coves, the sea-cliffs and fishing villages, the mysterious moodiness of the Duchy’s interior… All these things added up to an easily identified and recognised whole. Lamorna Cove features in The Cornish Snapper Plus, things get smaller and more concentrated the further west you go in Cornwall. It would be plausible to have the central characters move from one location to an altogether different one in just a few minutes - easy to do in a place where one coast is less than half-an-hour’s drive from the other. A good recipe for variety - you don’t want to bore your readers. Which is why the first of my Snapper stories features Newlyn harbour, the rocky heights of Trencrom Hill, the coast around Lamorna Cove, St Ives, windswept Hayle Towans, lonely Tregonning Hill, and the peaceful upper reaches of the Fal estuary. It also includes two of Cornwall’s biggest industries: fishing and China clay. The fishing harbour at Newlyn, as featured in The Cornish Snapper The Moment the Story Changed However, the three original short stories I wrote never went anywhere. Publishers weren’t interested and I tried selling them on Amazon but had no clue what I was doing so I took them off its listing. Then a few years later I was down in Cornwall on a job with the wonderful Emily Whitfield-Wicks. We often worked together and Emily was - and is - a highly talented photographer (and artist). This particular job was on a remote part of the Cornish coast and for some reason it required us to walk down to the sea-cliffs. On the way, I told her how much the story we were working on (the sudden and unexpected sale of an entire Cornish village) would have suited my Snapper series - which I described in a little more detail after she’d asked. Real life Cornish "snapper" Emily Whitfield-Wicks “You’ve missed a trick,” she cried. “You should have made the photographer a female! It would add to the whole dynamic and be much more interesting.” She was absolutely right. So during the Covid lockdowns I went through the first of my old Snapper stories changing the male photographer into a female - and in doing so discovered the first version wasn’t really all that well written, so I heavily edited and rewrote as I went. In doing so, I made the narrative three times longer and, I think, gave it the space to become more absorbing. I borrowed many descriptions and accounts of places and sometimes people which I’d written first hand, on the spot, while down in Cornwall in my old day-job as senior feature writer for this newspaper. The author, Martin Hesp, back in the days when he was a roving feature writer From Rejection to Self-Publishing And so a novel is born. I thought it might be snapped up by a publisher but after numerous rejection slips, I decided to set up my own small publishing company and produce the book myself. They weren’t rejections, actually - most said something like: “We love your story - we are excited about publishing it! All we ask is a small author contribution. Just send us three-and-a-half-thousand-quid and you will become a best selling author.” Hmmm. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to see that was a dodgy road to go down. Where to Find The Cornish Snapper If you are interested, look out for The Cornish Snapper: The Granite Mystery  - which is available for bookshops to stock now, or find the title on Amazon ( https://amzn.eu/d/0dIdzLAX ) - and if you do read it, a review on Amazon always helps independent authors. Martin will be speaking about the Cornish Snapper at Brendon Books in Taunton on Tuesday 19th May at 7pm. To book online visit www.brendonbooks.org  or call 01823 337742. Alternatively, you can visit Bath Place, Taunton TA1 4ER. View from Hayle Towans where the fictional Cornish Snapper is said to live

Dormy House, a classic country house hotel located right at the top of the Farncombe Estate. It was William Blake who wrote about “England’s fair and pleasant land…” He used the phrase to add contrast to the “dark satanic mills” of the early industrial revolution, but the concept still works today given the steady urbanisation of our landscapes. I was thinking this as we drove through the Cotswolds the other day. The thought — and the pleasant surroundings we were passing through — inspired me to repeat in my mind something I’ve been musing over for the past year or so… That one of things you can enjoy when you’ve reached retirement age (or semi-retirement in my case) is the time and ability to explore your own country. Where We Stayed in the Northern Cotswolds Dormy House Hotel, Farncombe Estate Dormy House is a luxurious country house hotel set high on the Cotswold escarpment above Broadway. Known for its “farmhouse chic” interiors, roaring fires and the celebrated House Spa, it recently secured a top-20 placing in the Condé Nast Traveler awards. Guests can stay in stylish rooms, suites and converted barns, some with private outdoor hot tubs. The Fish Hotel, Farncombe Estate The Fish offers a more adventurous style of countryside escape with luxury treehouses, woodland hideaways and shepherd’s huts scattered across the slopes above Broadway. Its restaurant, The Hook, serves a seafood-inspired menu featuring dishes such as Cornish mussels and charcoal-cooked market fish. One of the luxurious lounges at Dormy House When you’re working full-time you tend, if you can afford it, to use your holiday periods for something special. You might worry about inclement weather so you pack your family on a plane and fly off to guaranteed sunshine. Now, though, a person like me (and a million like me, including a great many readers of this newspaper) can find that we’ve a lot more time on our hands — so why not explore our own fair and pleasant land? Why Staycations in England Are More Popular Than Ever This notion was underlined when we reached our destination up on the north-western edge of the Cotswolds. We had been invited to stay at two different establishments on the Farncombe Estate — an elegant hotel and a rather intriguing location featuring luxurious shepherd’s huts and other intriguing abodes set in a forest — and both were impressively filled with happy customers despite the fact it was early March. It’s worth repeating an email I received last week from a company that specialises in analysing trends in the travel industry. It said the most popular search word at present is the term “staycation”, which is not exactly surprising given happenings in the Middle East and daily TV reports showing airport queues filled with people desperate to get home. Hikers on the Cotswold Way near Dormy House The Cotswolds National Landscape So it was very pleasant indeed to find ourselves tootling through the Cotswolds — the quintessential heart of “middle England” — a landscape so distinctive it was designated an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB) in 1966. Now officially known as the Cotswolds National Landscape, it spans nearly 800 square miles (it is the largest AONB in England and Wales) and stretches across six counties from just south of Stratford-upon-Avon down to Bath. The name is a marriage of history and geography. While “Cots” probably refers to an old word for sheep pens (or maybe a Saxon landowner named Cod), a “wold” is an Old English term for high, open unwooded hills or rolling upland. Which describes the region perfectly — a limestone escarpment of honey-coloured stone with villages nestled into “folds” and “wolds”. Along the AONB’s high western edge, the views across the Severn Vale extend away towards the Malvern Hills, and where the escarpment eventually curves east around its northern corner, you can see the Vale of Evesham stretching into the mists of the Midlands proper. It’s at this north western corner that we found the Farncombe Estate — a 500-acre multi-tiered destination which is rapidly gaining a world-class reputation. Accommodation varies widely at the Farncombe Estate - these fun "treehouses" are at The Fish Staying at Farncombe Estate: Dormy House and The Fish Hotel The estate, in short, is a bit of a chameleon, offering all things to all men and women. You get a different flavour of hospitality depending on which of its entities you visit or stay at. We were booked for a two-night stay to sample two of the three main establishments, starting with Dormy House — a classic country house hotel located right at the top of the estate. The PR people describe it as “farmhouse-chic (all about roaring log fires and sumptuous interiors). Yep… I’d go along with that — and so would other travel journalists more qualified than me. Dormy House recently scooped a top-20 spot in the Condé Nast Traveler awards. Open fires are a feature at Dormy House The hotel’s House Spa was described as a “Scandi-style sanctuary where you can drift between an outdoor hot tub and a thermal suite — perfect for soaking away the damp of a Cotswold mist.” We spent a night in one of the hotel’s comfortable converted barns, which happened to have its own private outdoor hot-tub. So I did just that. A nippy Cotswold mist had rolled in just after our arrival, so I duly whipped off the cover and sank everything but the Hesp eyes and lengthy nose into the hot and warming bubbles. There is something altogether opulent about observing horrible weather from the depths of a hot-tub with all the jets blasting. This not very exhausting interlude was followed by a rather opulent and extremely tasty dinner in the Dormy House dining room. Which was where I discovered that we weren’t the only ones up there in the March mists of the Cotswold escarpment. Every table in the sizeable dining room was taken. Maybe it was to do with the Condé Nast award, but when you see that kind of popularity you know the establishment is doing something right. The blue lounge at Dormy House Exploring the Northern Cotswolds Villages After a comfortable night and a magnificent breakfast fit for one of the old kings of Mercia, the morning mists evaporated and we did a day’s exploring around the northern Cotswolds. Despite the famous names of some of the pretty towns and villages, neither my wife or I had ever been to this neck of the woods before and, needless to say, we liked the area very much. Not so much for the countryside. Nice. Beautiful, I’m sure, if you live in the middle of Birmingham. But if you reside in the West Country peninsula somewhere like Exmoor National Park, then you’re rather spoiled when it comes to stunning scenery. However, the aforementioned towns and villages are an absolute joy. To explore the north-western fringes of the Cotswolds is to move through a landscape where the geology dictates the architecture. Everything built by human hand is born of that warm, oolitic limestone that seems to hold the evening light. Churchyard entrance at Stow on the Wold Stow-on-the-Wold We began by driving 15 minutes down (and temporarily back into the mist) to famous Stow-on-the-Wold, a town built by, and for, the wool trade and positioned at an intersection betwixt the valleys and uplands. I say “famous” because you only have to spend two minutes there to realise this is one of the AONB’s main tourism honeypots. It was filled with Americans and folk from somewhere east of India on a chilly March day — goodness knows what it must be like in summer. The market square speaks of a time when 20,000 sheep would change hands in a single afternoon. The massive church speaks of all the money that must have been made back in those happy woolly days. Despite the crowds and gift shops, I liked Stow. Moreton-in-Marsh From there, it was north to Moreton-in-Marsh, which sits in the Evenlode Valley. Unlike the huddle of its neighbour, Moreton is broad and linear — a classic coaching stop on the old Roman Fosse Way where the wide High Street still feels like a place of transit and trade. Chipping Campden Church and Gate-house Chipping Campden Turning back towards the hills, Chipping Campden boasts what is sometimes said to be the finest high street in England — a long, curved ribbon, honey-stone affair that was bathed in the midday winter sun. This charming town feels preserved, but not fossilised. Despite being prettier than the previous stops, there were far fewer tourists, but the place was buzzing nevertheless with local folk coming hither and thither. I bought a very good homemade pork pie and sat on a bench in the main street watching this very pleasant world go by while my wife dipped in and out of the shops. The interior of the old market-house at Chipping Campden Broadway Finally, we wound our way across to Broadway, tucked under the lee of the hills and situated directly beneath the main Farncombe Estate. It is the “show village” of the north-Cotswold-Evesham-Vale region — an undeniably handsome little place — again, teeming with visitors enjoying the rare afternoon sunshine. But a different mix of visitors here — I’d say these were mainly British tourists enjoying a day out in the wide and pretty main street with all its eateries and shops. For me the magic occurred when I looked back up toward the ‘wolds’ to see the high ground we’d just traversed. And also to see the woodlands of the Farncombe Estate which were to play host to the second half of our visit. Staying at The Fish Hotel Shepherd huts in the woodlands at The fish The Fish has been described as “quirky and playful”. If Dormy House is the refined elder sister, The Fish is the adventurous younger sibling. Located up on the slopes you can see from Broadway, it is a collection of “hideaway huts” and luxury treehouses tucked into the woodlands which surround a central hub where you find the reception and a rather lovely spacious restaurant. We were in one of the double-shepherds’ huts and very cosy it was too with its wood burning stove and hot tub. I particularly liked the “sunshine roof” above the bed — and lay there watching the moon climb above the waving branches of the trees. Dining at The Hook Restaurant A word about the restaurant. The Hook , as it’s called, offers a sophisticated but unpretentious take on seafood. Under the guidance of culinary director Martin Burge, the kitchen offers a “coastal-inspired” menu — which is odd when you think that it’s almost as far from the sea as anywhere in the UK. Cornish mussels, Porthilly oysters, and whole-market fish cooked over charcoal. Despite the distance from salty water, it does seafood as well as any coastal restaurant I’ve visited. My gurnard, braised octopus and cuttlefish in a bouillabaisse sauce was a triumph. Clean, unfussy, with all the right flavours showing through. All served in a bright, open space which at breakfast turned out to enjoy vast views of the vale beyond. By the way, all this splendour at the Farncombe Estate proved to be wonderfully “unstuffy”. We were able to take our dog and The Fish even has a dedicated “pooch playground”. Foxhill Manor Our two nights did not include a stay at the estate’s Foxhill Manor — the Grade II listed manor house that was recently named the Number One Hotel in the UK, which is no small feat for a house with just eight bespoke bedrooms. Oh well. Maybe next time. Which is quite possible now I have time to explore my own fair and pleasant land. Travel Information The Fish Hotel is running a “Kids Stay Free” offer in Easter holidays and May half term, and Dormy House currently has a Spring Escape offer. Visit: https://dormyhouse.co.uk/experiences/special-breaks/ https://thefishhotel.co.uk/special-breaks/

They don't call them The Fortunate Isles for nothing - the Scillonian archipelago is as rich in natural food resources as any other single place in Northern Europe. Yet a dozen years ago you would have been hard pushed to find a first-class meal made from local ingredients. Editor’s note: This article was first written some years ago but has been updated with new photographs. Fishing Life in the Isles of Scilly I am glad to report that the Scillies has really upped its game on the food-front. And I mean upped its game to the extent that the archipelago can now be regarded as a top food-destination, as well as being somewhere that happens to be unbelievably scenic. On several occasions I’ve been to the Scillies to attend a truly unique foodie event. The ultra-low-tide "pop-up restaurant" staged on a sandbar between two islands, in a place where fishes swim for at least 20 hours most days, was one of the most extraordinary food happenings I have ever enjoyed... From the Atlantic to the Plate Crowds gather for the inter-island pop-up seafood picnic between Tresco and Bryher Up to 500 people will paddle and splash their way out onto the bright white sands between Tresco and Bryher to enjoy bowls of fresh cooked mussels, or scoff some of the many amazing fishy treats caught, made and sold by a local family. If you are enjoying this article check out - A Taste of the Isles of Scilly: Discovering Artisan Food and Drink And it was that family - the Penders - that I was lucky enough to spend the rest of that happy sunlit day with. I did so because they are at the cutting edge of the archipelago's foodie renaissance and I wanted to find out more about what they do, why they do it, and how their business Island Fish , is faring. It was Amanda Pender who'd invited me to the islands with the promise of the low-tide pop-up event and an afternoon's spratting. I realise that several hours of wading in chilly waters handling seaweed covered nets might not be everyone's cup-of-tea, but it's the sort of real and authentic foodie activity that pushes all my boat. Moreover, I'd heard for many years that the Scillonian folk of old used to enjoy - no, rely upon - this old fashioned form of fishing. Mark Pender of Island Fish, Bryher With Amanda's brother (fisherman Mark), her husband Andy and various other delightful family members we pulled and hauled and did, indeed, catch the little "alandines", which are the Scillonian sprats. In other words, they are not like our mainland sprats but, despite my best efforts in researching the name, I cannot find any explanation as to what they are. The Penders assure me they are not babies of some species, indeed they took great trouble to throw young mullet and so on back into the sea.  The "alandines" - small fry caught between Tresco and Bryher Eating Seafood on the Scilly Islands What I do know is that the alandines are delicious, because the chef at Tresco's Flying Boat Club took half our haul and fed me some for lunch the next day .  After our fishing adventure the Penders invited me across to their home on Bryher where, among other things for dinner, we consumed a huge dish of razor-clams which Mark and his two teenage children had caught during the low-tide event.   The Pender family catching the little "alandines" in summer As we waited for the food, Amanda told me why she and the family had decided to set up their new business called Island Fish at the beginning of the year. "It's a long story - my family has been involved in fishing on Scilly for as long as anyone can chart. It's something I've always dipped in and out of - and the time came when my brother and I can said - we could do that, maybe we could even do it better... "My dad Mike hit 70 -  he didn't want to retire but slow down a bit - and at the same time the market has increased hugely for local fish. So it seemed like the time had come. I had a good job at the Island Partnership and had made lots of really good contacts - so it really did seem now was the time to build on what our parents had built up. "The islands have had many excellent fishermen and still have, but most people tend to send their stuff to Newlyn or sell to the local restaurants and so on. Which we do. But I thought there was a market for the person who comes here on holiday and wants fresh fish. I wanted to keep it local, that could help keep our cost down - and I wanted to add value to to what we caught. The Penders netting for "alandines" "There's a time in your life... You have a dream, an idea, that you can do something - and you either seize that or reminisce about it all your life. So my brother and I - along with my parents and my husband - we all put money in and said, let's take a risk... "So we bought an additional boat for Mark - my father already has a boat which is a bit of an icon on Scilly. We made the front of my house into a retail area and invested in everything you need to package fish and sell the brand. Our brand is the family - it is centuries of tradition - fishermen who know and love the waters and care where the fish comes from. We want to pass all this on to the next generation. The low tide pop-up betwixt Tresco and Bryher Lobster, Crab and the Daily Catch "I gave up a well paid job in Scilly, which is rare. My brother did too because he was working offshore. So we have taken a risk.  "Now we are selling crab meat - the plain, the white, the brown, we do potted crab with spices and butter and lemon - we do dressed crab and crab quiche. And it's all very new - I only gave up my job in April. So I want to use this winter to look at other things we can do.  "We want to have less pots and nets to make the business more environmentally friendly - but it's about making more out of what we have got. We just need more time in the day because everything is done by hand. We will be looking for new lines - if anyone can write in to tell me what to do with crab - please do... "And it's not just about crab and lobster. We sell everything we catch so we have zero wastage. We do mullet, mackerel, pollack, sometimes ray. The demand is really high for wet fish. "Spratting is a thing islanders have always done," Amanda told me. "It's a bit of fun for the family. Even teenagers into their iPads love doing it. The Tresco Estate have been very good to us - they take our fish in all their restaurants including the Hell Bay Hotel and its new Crab Shack here on Bryher.  "I know there are lots of challenges ahead - but it is really good when we all sit down as a family and thrash our ideas. The future is bright as long as you are prepared to work and work hard." And you get the feeling this Scillonian fishing family is no stranger to that. More power to their hard working elbows if it helps turn the archipelago into one of the premier food destinations in the UK.

The Narrative Pair: Lammoran and Hamilton My new novel, The Cornish Snapper: The Granite Mystery , is a thrilling adventure set in the salt-sprayed landscapes of West Cornwall. The narrative follows regional crime correspondent Thomas Hamilton and his partnership with a remarkable young press photographer, Veryan Lammoran . In this dynamic duo, Hamilton plays the world-weary Dr. Watson to Veryan’s intuitive Sherlock Holmes. Set in 2002—a pivotal era for journalism—the story unfolds as the old "newspaper hack" looks on askance while the youthful ‘snapper’ utilizes the brand-new power of digital photography. Together, they uncover the truth behind two feuding fishing families on the craggy coasts of West Penwith . Challenging the "Death of Crime Fiction" The seed for this story was planted back in 2002 after I heard a BBC Radio 4 discussion suggesting that the traditional "whodunnit" was dead. The experts argued that modern forensics and police procedurals had made the amateur sleuth—the Miss Marples and Sherlock Holmes of the world—obsolete. I disagreed. As a journalist for a major regional daily, I knew that crime correspondents still have every reason to be "sniffing around" a story. But the real "brainwave" was the photographer. The Digital Revolution as a Forensic Tool In 2002, digital cameras were revolutionising the newsroom. I realised that a photographer armed with a high-end lens and a laptop was the perfect modern detective. They could blow up images to reveal tiny, hidden clues that the naked eye—and the police—might miss in the heat of the moment. While the reporter (Hamilton) records the twists and turns, the snapper (Veryan) provides the investigative grit. Creating the Characters The dynamic truly clicked into place during a conversation with the talented Cornish photographer Emily Whitfield Wicks . She suggested that the photographer should be a woman. Suddenly, the "odd couple" pairing made sense: a vibrant, camouflage-clad young woman working alongside a stale, world-weary reporter who has "been there and got the T-shirt." While Veryan Lammoran is her own person, she shares Emily’s penchant for ex-army gear. As for Thomas Hamilton? There may be a few bits of myself in there—but as any journalist knows, the line between fact and fiction is where the best stories begin. The Setting: West Cornwall West Cornwall is not just a backdrop; it’s a character in its own right. The rugged cliffs, the crashing waves, and the quaint fishing villages all contribute to the atmosphere of the story. I wanted readers to feel the salty breeze and hear the gulls cry as they delve into the narrative. The landscape is steeped in history and mystery, making it the perfect setting for a tale of intrigue. Themes of Friendship and Trust At its core, The Cornish Snapper: The Granite Mystery explores themes of friendship and trust. As Hamilton and Veryan navigate the murky waters of crime and deception, they learn to rely on each other’s strengths. Their relationship evolves, showcasing how collaboration can lead to unexpected discoveries. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the best partnerships come from the most unlikely pairings. Thomas Hamilton - the world-weary newspaper hack who writes the words The Role of Technology in Storytelling In today’s digital age, technology plays a crucial role in storytelling. Veryan’s use of digital photography not only enhances the investigation but also reflects the changing landscape of journalism. It’s fascinating to see how tools evolve and influence the way we tell stories. I wanted to highlight this shift and show how it can empower characters to uncover the truth. The Importance of Authenticity Authenticity is vital in both food and travel journalism. I strive to bring real stories to life, ensuring that every detail resonates with readers. Whether it’s the flavours of a local dish or the essence of a place, I believe in capturing the heart of the experience. This novel is no different; it’s a celebration of the rich tapestry of life in Cornwall. Veryan Lammoran, newspaper photographer extraordinaire A Journey of Discovery As you read The Cornish Snapper: The Granite Mystery , I hope you embark on a journey of discovery. The twists and turns of the plot will keep you on the edge of your seat, while the characters will tug at your heartstrings. It’s a blend of suspense and emotion, designed to engage and entertain. Join the Adventure I invite you to join Hamilton and Veryan on their thrilling adventure. Together, they navigate the complexities of crime, friendship, and the ever-changing world of journalism. You can purchase the book here and dive into the mystery that awaits!

The big Marshall amp was pumping out notes with all the boom and volume of an ocean liner’s hooter and for a few seconds a 60-something-year-old lad from Exmoor was bashing it out on the lead guitar like some happy and demented Jimmy Hendrix. No air-guitar this, but the real thing - loud and raucous. And as a bonus I was playing this guitar in the glamorous and historic heart of Vienna. Okay, I was alone and in my hotel suite - but when you tell people you’ve been to Vienna you are almost always faced with the auto-pilot reaction: “Did you go to the opera?” “No, I didn’t,” comes my reply. “But I did play lead guitar at full volume with the help of a great big Marshall amplifier, just like rock stars have. And I did it in the suite I had at a very special new brand of hotels that is rapidly making a name for itself across Europe.” A Stylish Base in the Heart of Vienna If all this sounds a little uncultured of me, then note that I was enjoying a short city break to the capital of Austria and I was there at the invitation of the city tourist board which was introducing journalists to a new programme they’ve called ‘Unrating Vienna’. It is all about encouraging visitors to discover a very different city to the one seen in travelogues.  “ Unrating Vienna ” inspires visitors to go in search of ‘unique experiences’ to be found in the city rather than following the crowds. The email I received said: “The campaign urges visitors to deliberately get lost, enjoy instead of plan and stumble across some unique hidden gems in the process.” A very enjoyable experience it was too. I discovered a city that was vibrant, diverse and full of surprises.   Like the Ruby Hotel I stayed in, for starters. There are three of these remarkable, funky and inexpensive hotels in the city (and more opening up across Europe all the time, including one in London later this year) and I look forward to staying in them again. Just to explain that guitar... Each suite at the Ruby Lissi Hotel comes with its own big Marshall amplifier and, because every room is sound-proofed to the hilt, you are free to turn up the volume as loud as you like - whether that is as a result of plugging in your smartphone and playing your own music collection or because you have borrowed one of the electric guitars that hang around the walls of the reception area. The Ruby Hotels “Lean Luxury” Concept I am hopeless at playing a guitar, but I enjoyed twanging the strings in the privacy of my own suite. The Ruby Hotels are for the most part (and certainly the ones in Vienna) built into old buildings which have been renovated and each has its own themed and unique decor. They call it “lean luxury” - but it is modernistic, minimalist in places, and hugely enjoyable. I shall seek out the German-owned brand, especially since the price in the very heart of Vienna starts from just under 80 euros a night, which is amazingly good value. So, if I did not queue for hours or book months ahead to go to the opera, what else did I do in Vienna?  Well, lots - is the answer. We filled our three days from morning, noon, until very late at night. We walked and walked though the charming, stately streets and down hillsides cloaked in vineyards. We cycled through vast, green, wood-lined parks and along canal-sides. We even spent a morning aboard an electric powered launch which I somehow managed to skipper down a popular, but peaceful, stretch of the old Danube (as opposed to the newly realigned Danube which is busy and full of terrifyingly large shipping). We even joined the throngs of Viennese locals who were swimming in the old river and enjoying specially created pleasure beaches. It was a wonderful thing to do in the 39-degree heatwave which had hit town to coincide with our stay. As the tourist board had told me, Vienna is home to a multitude of outdoor activities – 53 per cent of the city’s surface area is classified as green space. The city’s biggest park, the Prater, has six million square metres of greenery to explore. The Vienna Woods are a designated UNESCO Biosphere Reserve and home to 150 bird species and 2,000 plants. There is also a plethora of gardens to enjoy, including Stadtpark, Vienna’s first public park with the most monuments and sculptures. I’m a sucker for markets, and Vienna has plenty of them, the most popular being the Naschmarkt. Then there’s the Brunnenmarkt, the second largest street market in Vienna, offering delicacies from around the world. Closer to the city centre, the Karmelitermarkt boasts not only the usual stalls, but a contemporary art scene and various new dining concepts which attract locals and visitors alike. The thing a greedy person like me particularly likes about markets is the food - and when it comes to food and drink there is lots to like about Vienna. Outside the crowded centre there are literally hundreds of underrated authentic Viennese restaurants. Gasthaus Ubl in the 4th district offers quintessential Viennese charm with delicious local cuisine such as Wiener schnitzel and roast liver, beef shin and blood sausage. I enjoyed the iconic “boiled beef” dish which is a Viennese favourite and much more delicious than it sounds. The food was surprisingly inexpensive and it was real Austrian cuisine. I know that because I met the lady who owns the place and who almost single handedly cooks everything.  When it comes to drink, Vienna is the only metropolis in the world to cultivate a wine-growing industry within its city limits. There’s a selection of vineyards and wine cellars to explore and sample. Wieninger am Nussberg is one such vineyard where visitors can sample biodynamic wine and Buschenschank delicacies from local producers, with stunning views over the city from Nussberg hill. We spent an entire afternoon up there enjoying a wonderful tasting with old Mr Wieninger who told us his family had ben making wine on the hill overlooking the it’s for 600 years. We then worked-off the booze by hiking all the way down the hill and back into the outskirts of Vienna where we jumped aboard one of the city’s excellent, efficient metro-lines that sped us back into the centre. Of course, there are all the famous things you can do and see in what is Europe’s number one short-city-break destination - like all the imperial and contemporary art which you can enjoy in the amazing museum district, or the stunning Schönbrunn Palace, or the State Opera or St Stephen’s Cathedral. There’s even the famous Ferris wheel as seen with Orson Welles in The Third Man, as well as countless Viennese pastries to consume after eating Wiener schnitzel and 100 different types of local sausage. And there is the opera, however be warned that the queues are long if you don’t book a long way ahead. But, in the end there is just Vienna. Grand old empirical Vienna - one of the loveliest, grandest and most exciting cities on Earth. Fact File Martin stayed as a guest of Ruby Hotels. For more information, please visit  www.rubyhotels.com .  Find out more about staying in Vienna by visiting  www.viennainfo.com

There’s nothing like travel to broaden the mind - especially in the world of cookery where ideas from other countries can massively expand your culinary range. Dimos Balopoulos is head chef at the Daios Cove five star luxury resort in eastern Crete, and last weekend he was telling me how each winter his bosses send him around the world to work for short spells in top kitchens so that he can expand his kitchen’s repertoire.  And if it’s good enough for a leading light like Dimos, it’s good enough for an amateur like me. Indeed, one reason I was in Crete was to learn a bit more about how the Greeks in general - and the Cretans in particular - centre all their culinary practices on the quality of local ingredients.  Here’s an unlikely example which Cretan home-cooks share with their neighbours across the Aegean in Puglia - it concerns what they call “wild greens” (horta in Greece), plants which most English people would describe as weeds. As wild edible plants pop their heads above the rocky soil in both places, so they’ll be collected daily by men and women from the rural villages, and at weekends by those who live in towns.   “You can find many varieties in Crete which come out season by season,” says Dimos. “So what local people do is collect them and preserve them - you can’t eat all you pick. Some they pickle, others they salt or freeze. And they use them all year.” He is talking about things like dandelion leaves, wild rocket, even thistle stalks. “First the put them in salt and then wash them and put them in (white wine) vinegar in a jar. That is happening in every Cretan farm because they cannot eat all they pick when it’s in season.” And so the pickled vegetables - which are delicious - have become a feature of Cretan cuisine. One which a top chef like Dimos adapts and extends until pickled vegetables become a small but important signature of his five-star cooking.  Why aren’t we pickling wild vegetables? Why don’t we have that kind of foraging as part of our culinary tradition? Such things are a mystery to me. It’s not as if our forefathers always lived so high on the hog, they didn’t go hungry. Wild greens, seaweeds and other things besides were left untouched… We’ve got them, but for some reason the peasants of this land never ate them, no matter how desperate they became.  If I am wrong about that and they did - then how is it the routine never became a part of a tradition which saw the dishes being handed down?       What I like about talking to chefs like Dimos is how linked with such tradition - and with such simple local ingredients - they seem to be. We were talking about eating sea-urchin - the spiny shellfish which he told me had become illegal to harvest in Crete. Not that this seems to stop anyone from gingerly picking them out of the rocks - indeed one cove I visited was black with them.   “With the sea urchins you are literally eating the sea when it comes to the flavour,” said Dimos. “We like them best simply eaten fresh on their own. But then we can adapt them into the sort of cooking we do here.  “Every winter the hotel sends us around the world looking for fresh ideas. Last year we went to Oslo and worked there in a three-Michelin star restaurant called Maaemo. The year before we went to Copenhagen and worked at Kadeau. These are some of the very best restaurants in the world. So yes, we can say that we travel and pick up ideas - to see what is going on and to open our eyes. “What we do at Daios Cove is call in all the producers to show us what they have - this is happening at the beginning of the season and we choose all the ingredients and make a deal with them for the whole year. We are one of the very few hotels doing that. We have this one day when they all come here - and we do a deal with the man, say, who is going to produce us our tomatoes. He comes from 40 minutes away and he grows his tomatoes out in the sunshine and they are superb.   “All our seafood is coming from around this island. Every morning I go to the fish market in town (Agios Nikolaos) and every night they call me - even at one at night - to tell me if there’s anything special which they will buy straight from the boat for me. “What we do here is combine what happens in a local farmhouse kitchen with modern techniques from around the world,” said Dimos who pointed to one dish I’d enjoyed that lunchtime. “Your starter was a kind of risotto with a greek salad inside and raw prawns that have been ‘ceviched’ for ten minutes in lemon juice, pepper and paprika. We cut the prawns in half to marinate them - and we might also add sea urchin.” It was sensational. The freshness of a Greek salad, the creaminess of a risotto and the raw citric fishiness of prawns and urchin combined to create something that arguably encapsulated eastern Crete in a single mouthful.  The challenge I’ve given myself is to replicate the dish loosely by using fabulous fresh ingredients from here in the UK. The citrus and the rice wouldn’t be local but I might find alternatives - even so, it should be possible to emulate the idea and create some morsel that sums up Cornwall, say, in one happy bite. RECIPE from Dimos Balopoulos, head chef at the Daios Cove, Crete. Smoked octopus escabeche with black guacamole and salad of fermented cucumber, turnip.  Ingredients: For the Octopus 600-700 gr octopus Salt- pepper to taste 1 medium onion 4 Bay leaves Olive oil ½ cup red wine For the black guacamole 2 avocados peeled and pitted 1 green chilli  1/2 cup fresh coriander  salt pepper to taste 30 ml lime juice 1 tsp squid ink For the escabeche  360ml white balsamic vinegar  120ml rice vinegar  6 pieces all spice berries  2 tsp smoked paprika  7 garlic gloves diced 4 white onions diced 1 chilli  240 ml extra virgin olive oil salt  60 gr roasted almonds   Smoked Octopus: Pre-heat the oven on 160°C. Wash the octopus and remove its head. Then separate the tentacles, cut them into long strips and place them in paper foil with olive oil, salt and pepper, the onion, the bay leaves, and drizzle it with red wine. Wrap in oven proof baking paper and then wrap again with aluminium foil Place in the oven for one hour. When you remove it from the oven, separate octopus from the juices. Black Guacamole: In a blender add the avocado first and all the ingredients to make a creamy black sauce. Escabeche In a frying pan heat the olive oil, onions, garlic until they’ve turned transparent. Then transfer to a blender with the rest of the ingredients and blend until it turns into a smooth cream. Salad Lightly pickled cucumber cut in julienne style Lightly pickled turnip julienne style Chopped cherry tomatoes Spoonful of capers Spoonful of olives onion that you have pickled briefly To serve: Mix and place the salad on a plate then add the guacamole and either place the octopus which has been combined with the escabeche sauce or place the octopus with the sauce on the top.