The West Country, as all of us who live here are only too aware, has a lot going for it. The peninsula is adorned with a plethora of fine features, from fertile vales to the great high moors. Boats on the fishing slip at Cape Cornwall But it is the sea coast which acts as the most important mantle upon which the favourite jewels of our crown are displayed. Ask any visitor which single element of the West Country he or she identifies with first and foremost and the reply will probably have something to do with the seaside. Unspoilt coves, big broad surfing beaches, picturesque harbours, noble headlands… Most visitors to the region will spend at least some time at the coast and it is generally recognised that the shores of the West Country are among the finest in England. Yet there was a time when much of that coastline was under threat from development. And it was partly to prevent that happening that the National Trust launched one of Britain's most important conservation campaigns. It was called Neptune. The campaign that set out to save the coast The National Trust's Neptune campaign was launched in May 1965 by Conrad Rawnsley, grandson of one of the Trust's founders, with the aim of preventing inappropriate development along unspoilt coasts. At the time, a survey of the 3,000 miles of coastline in England, Wales and Northern Ireland found that approximately a third was already ruined and another third was considered to be of little interest. The remaining third – around 900 miles – was regarded as coastline important enough to save. The cove at Cadgwith - National Trust land can be found either side of the village The original target was to raise £2 million through voluntary subscriptions. It was an ambitious undertaking. But Neptune proved to be hugely successful, thanks to the generosity of landowners who gifted property, and members of the public who left money in their wills or made donations. Over the decades the campaign has raised enormous sums and enabled the Trust to acquire and protect hundreds of miles of coastline. The figures have grown dramatically since I first wrote about Neptune. On its 60th anniversary in 2025, the National Trust revealed that new detailed mapping showed it was caring for 896 miles of coastline in England, Wales and Northern Ireland – more than 10 per cent of the total. The campaign had raised more than £114 million. And nowhere has the story been more impressive than Cornwall. Saving Cornwall's wild coastline More than a third of Cornwall's much-celebrated coastline came under National Trust ownership through the Neptune programme and other associated acquisitions. That matters because owning a piece of coast is not simply a question of putting up a sign and collecting the car-parking money. The Trust has to manage farms, footpaths, cliffs, beaches, wildlife, historic monuments and buildings – and it has to cope with the increasingly obvious effects of coastal erosion and a changing climate. The result is a remarkable patchwork of protected land stretching around the Cornish peninsula. The inlet at Boscastle, also surrounded by National Trust owned land From Boscastle, Crackington Haven and the cliffs between Duckpool and Sandymouth in the north, to the Dodman, Fowey and the Lizard; from Godrevy and the coast around St Ives to Pendeen, Penberth and Whitesand Bay, Neptune has helped create a chain of protected coastal landscapes. Some acquisitions are relatively small. Others are enormous. At Bosigran and Carn Galver, for instance, the Trust acquired more than 200 hectares stretching along the coast, while on the Lizard the holdings include substantial areas of farmland, cliffs and headland. At St Eval, the Trust's land forms the wild backdrop to Bedruthan Steps. Around Lansallos, Lantic Bay and Lantivet Bay, it protects another stretch of extraordinarily beautiful south Cornwall coast. And on the far west coast, the holdings around Bollowall, Carn Gloose and Cot Valley include cliffs and farmland once intensively mined for tin. These are not simply dots on a map. Put them together and they form a great continuous story of Cornwall's coastline – one in which the sea, the landscape, wildlife, farming, mining history and tourism are all intertwined. Check out our post on why the Cornish Coast is so special by clicking here Lansallos Cove, South Cornwall But what does owning the coast actually mean? That was something I wanted to find out when, during my years as a Western Morning News feature writer, I was invited by the National Trust to visit one of its most famous coastal holdings. We met at Godrevy. I was there to talk to Nick Lawrence, then the Trust's assistant regional director, about what Neptune had achieved and what it might mean for the future. Godrevy was a particularly good place to have that conversation because, in one relatively small coastal holding, the headland contains so many examples of the issues, opportunities and problems which come with owning and managing a great piece of the Cornish coast. Within minutes of arriving it became clear just how live those issues could be. It was a sunny but freezing weekday morning in February, yet the car park was already half full and the beach café was packed. As we enjoyed a coffee and a chat before setting off for a walk, a fellow diner accosted Nick and demanded to know whether the Trust intended to purchase a wildlife-rich coastal property next door to Godrevy. It was not for the first time that day that I realised just how important National Trust coastal ownership is to so many people. See our special post on walks on the West Cornish coast here Godrevy Lighthouse on its island Godrevy – a case study in looking after the coast Nick explained that the early days of Neptune had been about acquiring more and more coastal holdings. But things had changed. The Trust was still keen to save crucially important sections of shoreline when the opportunity arose, but with so many coastal properties already on its books it increasingly had to concentrate on looking after the landscapes it owned and managed. And that meant dealing with people as well as nature. “The original vision was clear: let's buy unspoilt coastline because we need to protect it,” Nick told me as we set out on our walk around Godrevy. “They were very proactive at a time when the National Trust was growing quickly and over a short period of time, we were very successful.” But, he said, Neptune had evolved. The acquisition of land was now only part of the equation. It was equally about involving people in what the Trust did and providing experiences along the coast which people loved. That is a particularly important point in Cornwall, where the coast is not some remote wilderness visited by a handful of conservationists. Millions of people come here. They come to surf, swim, walk, picnic, watch wildlife, photograph the landscape and simply sit and stare at the sea. The South West Coast Path runs through many of these protected landscapes, and the path itself has become an important part of Cornwall's tourism economy. The cost of keeping the coast open At Godrevy, Nick pointed to an area of eroded cliff where around 30 feet of steps leading down to the shore had disappeared during a single winter. The problem was not merely aesthetic. Erosion on the coast near Godrevy The Trust had responsibilities for keeping access safe, while the road serving the farm, café and car parks was itself getting dangerously close to the eroding cliff. “It is our job, but also our statutory responsibility, to make the beaches safe,” Nick told me. Even then, the cost of dealing with one relatively small erosion problem could run into thousands of pounds. And that was more than a decade ago. Today the problem is even more obvious. The National Trust says that coastal erosion at Godrevy is now undermining the single access road to the headland and that surveys suggest the road could become unsafe within a relatively short timeframe. In June 2026 the Trust replaced an 80-metre boardwalk which had been installed in 2018 and had reached the end of its useful life after years of heavy use and exposure. In other words, the things Nick and I were talking about all those years ago have not gone away. They have become more urgent. The changing face of Neptune “Mullion Cove is a classic example,” Nick told me during our conversation. The Trust had inherited the harbour, but with little endowment to pay for its upkeep. Repairs were expensive and the opportunities to generate income from the harbour were limited. Then there was the increasing storminess of the weather. We have a special page dedicated to many of our posts on the South West Coast Path Mullion Cove and harbour “The cost of looking after these places is increasing,” he said. “We have to ask: how sustainable is this? What is the long term picture? What's going to happen?” That is perhaps the great question facing the Neptune campaign today. It is relatively easy to understand why a charity should want to buy a beautiful piece of unspoilt coastline before somebody builds on it. It is considerably harder to explain how that charity will continue to pay for its maintenance for decades and centuries afterwards. The Trust's answer has increasingly involved finding ways of generating income from the landscapes it looks after while trying not to damage the very qualities which make them special. At Godrevy, for example, that can mean car parking and catering as well as encouraging people to understand why the landscape needs their support. The Trust also has to balance farming with environmental concerns. Many of its coastal farms are tenanted, and asking farmers to manage land in more environmentally friendly ways can reduce the rental income the charity receives. So the business of conservation is not simply about buying land. It is about making that land sustainable. A coastline under pressure When I visited Godrevy, one of the most interesting things Nick talked about was the way small acquisitions made over many years could eventually produce a much bigger environmental benefit. The Lizard was his example. The Trust might have owned only a small area to begin with, but as more parcels of land were acquired, the cumulative impact became much greater. New footpaths could be created. Power cables could be put underground. Larger areas could be managed together. Wildlife could benefit. And visitors could enjoy a more coherent landscape. He mentioned the return of the chough to the Lizard as one example of the way conservation successes could develop, although he was careful to point out that this was not something the National Trust had achieved on its own. Wildlife organisations, councils, private landowners and others had all played their part. That is another important lesson from Neptune. Saving the coast is rarely the work of one organisation alone. This website has a dedicated page for its many articles on Cornwall and the Isles of Scilly Why the Cornish coast belongs to all of us There is something rather wonderful about the fact that so much of Britain's coastline remains open to ordinary people. Here in the UK we can be very gleeful indeed when it comes to our universal love of beaches and coasts. Most of the nation's shoreline is accessible to one and all. Private signs banning people from beaches are relatively unusual. Compare that with some heavily developed Mediterranean coastlines and the difference becomes stark. I remember making this comparison in my original article because it seemed so extraordinary that a peninsula like Cornwall could still have hundreds of miles of openly accessible seaside. And a large proportion of that coast is owned and managed by a charity whose stated purpose is to protect it for future generations. That is something easily taken for granted. Perhaps we shouldn't. Windsurfer at Hayle Towans The future of Cornwall's beaches When I wrote those original articles, the great challenge seemed to be protecting the coast from inappropriate development. Today that challenge remains, but it has been joined by another one which is impossible to ignore: climate change and coastal erosion. The National Trust's current work at Godrevy illustrates the point perfectly. The headland is still hugely popular with visitors, but the Trust now says that rising sea levels and more extreme weather are accelerating coastal erosion. At the same time, large numbers of visitors bring their own pressures, particularly on fragile habitats and archaeological features. The answer cannot simply be to keep rebuilding everything exactly where it has always stood. Sometimes paths will have to move. Sometimes access roads will have to change. Sometimes buildings or coastal structures will become impossible to maintain in their present form. And sometimes the best thing conservationists can do is allow the coastline to change naturally while finding new ways for people to experience it safely. That is a very different sort of conservation from the one envisaged when Neptune began in 1965. Yet the underlying principle remains remarkably similar. Keep the coast special. Keep it accessible. Look after its wildlife and landscape. And make sure that future generations can experience the same sense of wonder that we have today. Seals shelter from a storm on a beach in the lee of Godrevy Light Cornwall's coast – a national treasure There are few things more reassuring than standing on a Cornish headland and looking out across the Atlantic. The cliffs may be crumbling. The paths may need moving. The weather may be becoming more extreme. The cost of maintaining harbours, beaches, farms and footpaths may be rising rapidly. But the great achievement of Neptune is that so much of this magnificent coastline remains in safe hands. The campaign began with the straightforward idea that unspoilt coast should be protected from inappropriate development. More than sixty years later, that principle has evolved into something much bigger. It is about nature conservation. It is about public access. It is about farming and wildlife. It is about tourism and local communities. It is about the South West Coast Path and the millions of people who walk it. The scale of that responsibility is extraordinary. The National Trust says it is guardian of more than 400 miles of coastline in the South West alone, including approximately 295 miles – almost a third – of the 630-mile South West Coast Path, which runs from Minehead to Poole Harbour. And, increasingly, it is about working out how a coastline can be cared for when the sea itself is changing. The costs have become enormous. The National Trust currently estimates that each mile of coastline costs around £3,000 a year to maintain. Multiply that across hundreds of miles and it becomes easier to understand why looking after the coast is such a financial as well as an environmental challenge. When I stood at Godrevy with Nick Lawrence all those years ago, a section of cliff had already disappeared and the Trust was wrestling with the cost of keeping people safely connected with the coast. Godrevy Light seen from the air Today, the erosion is still happening. Indeed, the problem has become considerably more serious. The National Trust now says that recent coastal erosion and geological surveys suggest the access road to Godrevy headland could become unsafe within the next five years. In June 2026 the Trust replaced the 80-metre boardwalk leading towards the headland, which had been installed in 2018 and had reached the end of its useful life after hundreds of thousands of visitors and years of exposure to the harsh coastal conditions. And the National Trust is once again having to look ahead and ask what Godrevy will look like in the future. Perhaps that is the real legacy of Neptune. Not that Cornwall's coastline has been frozen in time – because it hasn't, and it never could be. But that generations of people have been given the chance to enjoy it, and that there is a continuing effort to make sure they can do so long into the future. Millions of country lovers and seaside fans would agree that is something worth protecting. Check out our post on 5 Best Walks in and Around St Ives Dunes at Hayle with St Ives in the far distance

Walkers take a rest on the heights of Golden Cap, Dorset, with vast coastal views to admire Walking the high ramparts of the Jurassic Coast is an exercise in sublime impermanence. Nowhere else in Britain does the solid earth beneath your boots seem quite so eager to pack its bags, give up its ancient day job as a clifftop, and slide bodily down into the churning sea. From the golden heights of the South Coast’s tallest peak to the fossil-strewn undercliffs of Charmouth and the windswept shingle curves stretching towards Portland, West Dorset and East Devon offer some of the most exhilarating walking anywhere in the realm. It is high ridge country, knobbly green vales, and dramatic precipices. Here are five of my favourite coastal rambles along this ever-shifting shoreline - ranging from strenuous clifftop ascents to gentle village-and-beach loops - followed by a nostalgic look back at how we first learned to journey through its deep, prehistoric time. SEE MORE DORSET HIKES BY CLICKING HERE The western end of the Jurassic Coast looking down at Sidmouth 1. Golden Cap: Crown of the South Coast Travelling through Dorset in no particular hurry, I found myself in high ridge country and decided to go for a hike. My brother was with me, and we initially tackled Pilsdon Pen - Dorset’s highest inland hill. It ticked most of the right boxes, but the photographs didn't. Walking on those magnificent inland ridges is all about views, and in dank, iron-grey misty weather, airy heaths giving way to vast panoramas simply vanish. READ THE FULL WALK DESCRIPTION OF A HIKE FROM GOLDEN CAP HERE Save for the nearest group of hills to the south, we could hardly see a thing. So, allow me to feature the wondrous, sunshine-lit Golden Cap walk instead - with a firm promise that we will return to march across Pilsdon Pen on a brighter day. Golden Cap is the highest point along the entire English south coast, standing proudly at 191 metres (627 feet). Climbing its summit from sea level is a lung-busting haul for all but the fittest, but the great hill looming between Lyme Regis and Bridport is attached to a high plateau offering fantastic level walking and heavenly panoramas. The Route To find this altitudinous demesne, head to the hilltop village of Morcombelake on the A35 between Charmouth and Chideock. Just past the garage, heading east, watch out for a tiny lane on the right (take great care crossing the traffic). Turn left where marked for Langdon Hill car park. Here, tucked into National Trust woodland at 600 feet, you start at almost the same altitude as Golden Cap itself. Head due south down the broad forest ride. Leaving the trees, you are treated to huge views over Chideock lying far below among those Hobbit-like vales for which West Dorset is justly celebrated. Track from Langdon Hill car park, Golden Cap Instead of tackling the Cap straight away, turn right and head past the ruined St Gabriel’s Chapel in a corner of the fields. Follow the path inland past St Gabriel’s Wood and climb to the farm at Upcott, where another path ascends west onto Chardown Hill. A long, straight track heads along the ridge—which becomes Stonebarrow Hill—eventually meeting a paved lane running down towards Charmouth. Where track turns to tarmac, turn sharp left and descend seawards past Westhay Farm and into the two glorious little coombes formed by Westhay and Ridge Waters. These fields are managed by the National Trust with a strict limit on pesticides, making them a haven for wildflowers and butterflies (and a pollen hazard for hay-fever sufferers in early summer). Now comes the big climb. The coast path goes straight up the contours to the peak of Golden Cap without any polite zig-zagging. It is one long, unvarnished haul—yet worth every gasp. To the north sits Pilsdon Pen; to the west, gargantuan landslides tumble past Charmouth towards The Spittles and romantic, Jane Austen-esque Lyme Regis; and to the east, Seatown sits deep in its gully, backed by the rolling spine of Thorncombe Beacon. From the summit plateau and its Bronze Age barrows, retrace your steps across the dip to Langdon Hill, taking the western woodland track back to the car park. Distance: 8 miles Difficulty: Strenuous; steep climbs and descents Starting Point: National Trust Langdon Hill Car Park (DT6 6EP) View from Golden Cap looking west along the coast 2. West Bay & Burton Bradstock: Beyond Broadchurch The world went mad for the television series Broadchurch, filmed right along these honey-coloured cliffs. ITV produced a brilliant drama, but when I head to the coast for a hike, I prefer not to dwell on sinister fictional crimes and murdered children. What I do like is a stroll based in the far-flung chalklands of Wessex—no heather moorland or craggy granite here, but an expansive coastal demesne full of rural charm. READ MORE ABOUT THE DELIGHTS TO BE FOUND AROUND WEST BAY HERE The cliffs between Burton Bradstock and West Bay The Route West Bay bustles with fish-and-chip kiosks, bobbing boats, and rows of static caravans. To turn this coastal outing into a circular ramble, avoid heading straight out along the cliff edge and instead take the public right-of-way heading slightly inland along the shallow valley behind East Cliff. The path carries you directly into Burton Bradstock—a gorgeous, thatched village of 1,000 souls clustered around a 15th-century church. It has a proud working heritage: during the 16th century, Bridport guarded its naval rope-making monopoly so jealously that Parliament banned rope production within five miles, yet 19th-century census records show Burtonians were still vigorously weaving twine, nets, and sailcloth. From the village centre, take the footpaths heading south up the hill to reach Burton Beach, where the vast, shingle sweep of Chesil Beach curves away toward distant Portland Bill. A stern warning: The golden grit along the shoreline has an annoying habit of giving way underfoot, making one mile feel like three. Worse still, these soft sandstone cliffs are prone to sudden, lethal collapses. Give them a very wide berth. At Burton Freshwater, head inland around the stream and cross the footbridge before tackling the short, sharp climb to gain the top of East Cliff. The walk back to West Bay along the clifftop is a pure dawdle, offering magnificent coastal vistas every yard of the way. Distance: 4.5 miles Difficulty: Easy to moderate; shingle walking can be tiring Starting Point: West Bay harbour or pay-and-display car parks (DT6 4EL) Looking east from Burton Bradstock 3. Charmouth & The Moving Earth I once found myself in Charmouth covering a major cliff fall alongside dozens of other journalists. Unlike colleagues who had to rush back to distant city desks to file, my copy was sorted early, leaving plenty of daylight for a brisk circular hike. In Charmouth's prehistoric heyday 195 million years ago, early visitors would have been ordering ammonites rather than oysters and dodging toothy Eugnathus orthostomus fish. The landscape here still behaves as though it has an innate desire to abandon its position as high clifftop and take up residence on the seabed. The beach at Charmouth The Route The porous sandstone here rests on slick, tilted beds of impermeable clay; add heavy winter rain, and entire hillsides shear away. This creates the extraordinary coastal wilderness known as the "Undercliff"—a tangled, stepped wonderland where full-grown trees slip downhill into inaccessible sanctums untouched by human boots. Ascend the eastern flank out of Charmouth up towards Cain’s Folly (if the cliff-edge section is shut due to active falls, use Stonebarrow Lane as the designated bypass to reach the top). Skirt the rim of the great slips, enjoying spectacular views back toward Golden Cap. Descend into the coombes carved out by Westhay Water and Ridge Water, then climb past Broom Cliff. Turn inland toward Upcott, picking up the quiet lanes and field paths that lead steeply onto Chardown Hill. A companion once insisted to me that Golden Cap was the highest point in these parts; I won a very pleasant ice cream by proving that the inland crest of Chardown Hill is, in fact, three metres taller - but of course it is slightly inland - Golden Cap gets its fame for being the tallest hill along the whole South Coast. Traverse Stonebarrow Hill westwards—passing the old National Trust radar station—before descending Stonebarrow Lane back into Charmouth. Distance: Just under 5 miles Difficulty: Moderate; a couple of short, steep climbs Starting Point: Charmouth foreshore car park (DT6 6LS) CHARMOUTH ALSO GETS A MENTION IN ANOTHER OF OUR POSTS 4. Lyme Regis to Charmouth: The Ghost Path I once embarked on this route on the hearty recommendation of the brilliant press photographer Richard Austin. He promised me fantastic views, and my neighbour Mark joined me for a birthday walk. What Richard neglected to mention was that the original path no longer exists—it lies scattered across the seabed, and attempting the old route could land you a hefty fine. Lyme Regis, looking east My Ordnance Survey map showed an innocent footpath running along the foot of the immense grey vertical slips of The Spittles. It has long since dissolved into the waves. Higher up, the official South West Coast Path has had to pull off several dramatic inland retreats from the crumbling lip of Timber Hill. The Route From Lyme Regis, park half a mile up the A3052 on the Charmouth side. Above the football club, the path strikes out across fields toward a high wood (a sea of bluebells in late spring). Crucial rule: Do not attempt to hug the direct cliff rim or wander onto the golf course where old routes met sheer drops. Follow the signposted, diverted inland route along the higher boundary. It involves a stiff climb alongside massive, labyrinthine badger setts before working eastward above the ancient active slips. Eventually, you will drop down into Charmouth. To return, you have three sensible choices: Retrace your steps along the designated inland diversion. Catch the regular Jurassic Coaster bus back up the hill to Lyme. Walk back along the beach at low water - only attempt this on a falling tide, well clear of the unstable cliffs, as an incoming tide will pin you against sheer rock. (My own solution was to telephone the guilty photographer and persuade him to drive out and collect us.) Distance: 2.5 miles one-way (approx. 5 miles return via inland diversion) Difficulty: Moderate to steep; strictly follow current local signage and path diversions Starting Point: A3052 car park above Lyme Regis (DT7 3HQ) READ ALL ABPOOUT A MACKERAL FISHING ADVENTURE OUT OF LYNME REGIS HERE Lyme Regis from the sea 5. Seatown to Eype Mouth: Doghouse Hill & Smugglers' Ridges Seatown has long been one of my favourite West Dorset boltholes. It features The Anchor inn right on the shingle fringe, and unlike landowners further west who charge an arm and a leg for a patch of mud, beachside parking here has always retained a modest, sensible charm. Seatown, Dorset, with Golden Cap looming tall behind It was also once the epicentre of 18th-century smuggling. The notorious "Chideock Gang"—led by an elusive former military gentleman dubbed "The Colonel"—used the looming height of Golden Cap to spot Revenue cutters miles out to sea, dropping kegs of contraband into the bay to be dredged up under cover of darkness. The Route Facing the sea, turn east and tackle the formidable bulk of Doghouse Hill. The climb is sharp, but looking back provides an astonishing perspective of Golden Cap and the rolling green farmland of the Chideock vale. Continue along the clifftops toward Thorncombe Beacon. The ground here is one gigantic rabbit warren, patrolled by coastal ravens. The steel brazier atop the beacon—one of the chain that warned of the Spanish Armada in 1588—still marks the summit. From here, the panorama sweeping along the entirety of Chesil Beach to Portland Bill is arguably one of the greatest coastal views in Britain. Descend into the quiet cleft of Eype Mouth, where a tiny stream cuts through to a tranquil gravel strand. View of Seatown from higher up Doghouse Hill From the beach, amble inland to the hamlet of Lower Eype, then turn west onto the field paths climbing toward Down House Farm. From here, pick up the high trail (joining a section of the Monarch's Way) that traverses the inland flanks of Doghouse Hill. It delivers you gently back down into Seatown, offering peaceful, sylvan views across the pastoral shires of Dorset before you sink into a well-earned seat beside the waves. Distance: 4 miles Difficulty: Moderate to strenuous; sharp climbs up Doghouse Hill and Thorncombe Beacon Starting Point: Seatown beach car park (DT6 6JU) West Bay from Thorncombe Beacon Time-Travel at Seaton: A Coastal Gateway Just across the Devon border, the gateway town of Seaton provides the geological foundation stone for this entire stretch of coast. A few years ago, the opening of the £4 million Seaton Jurassic centre gave visitors a taste of deep time. Operated by the Devon Wildlife Trust, the attraction was designed around a Victorian collector's study and a whimsical, spherical "time-ship." Visitors could literally step inside, grab the oars, and "row" their way down through ancient warm oceans, watching 160-million-year-old pliosaurs glide past the portholes and dodging digital giant cuttlefish. The wonderful Seaton Tramway While the physical centre has since evolved into the Seaton Tramway’s Jurassic Discovery centre (housing soft-play and an immersive animatronic dinosaur exhibition), the core lesson of this coastline remains unchanged: every pebble underfoot at Seaton, Charmouth, or Lyme is a window into 250 million years of Earth's restless history. Whether you are hunting for pyritised ammonites along the foreshore or striding out across the high turf of Golden Cap, there is no better place in Britain to lace up your boots and watch geology in motion. CHECK OUT OUR JOURNEY CROSS THE RIDGES OF WEST DORSET HERE Fossil hunters in the rain at Lyme Regis Fossil Hunting on the Jurassic Coast: Essential Safety & Beach Code Along the foreshores of Charmouth and Lyme Regis, Mary Anning’s legacy lives on in every cracked nodule and glistening ammonite spiral. But searching for prehistoric relics on this restless coast requires respect—both for personal safety and for the protected landscape itself. Here is what every walker and beachcomber needs to know before venturing onto the gravel beds: 1. Watch the Tides Like a Hawk The Rule of a Falling Tide: Always hunt on an ebbing (falling) tide. Never head out around headlands—especially between Charmouth and Lyme Regis, or toward Cain’s Folly—on a rising tide. The sea pushes right up against vertical mudstone cliffs, and people are cut off with alarming regularity. Know the High Water Times: Check local tide tables before you step onto the shingle, and aim to be safely off the beaches at least two hours before high water. 2. Give the Cliffs a Wide Berth Falling Rocks Kill: The soft clays and shales of Black Ven, The Spittles, and Stonebarrow are constantly shedding rock. Frost, rain, and heat all trigger sudden rockfalls. Keep Your Distance: A good rule of thumb is to stay a distance away from the cliff base equal to at least the height of the cliff. Never sit, picnic, or linger beneath overhangs. Avoid Mudflows: The vast landslips create deep, liquid mud "glaciers" on the lower slopes that look deceptively firm. Stepping onto them can sink you waist-deep in seconds. 3. Leave the Cliff Faces Alone (The West Dorset Fossil Code) No Digging in the Cliffs: Hammering, picking, or chiselling directly into the cliff faces or vegetated slopes is strictly prohibited. It destabilises the cliffs, accelerates dangerous rockfalls, and damages the Sites of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI). Search the Foreshore: The best, safest, and most responsible finds are already loose on the beach. Look among the shingle lines, tideline drift, and loose tumbled rocks on the foreshore where the sea has naturally washed the fossils clean. Safety Glasses are Essential: If you do tap loose beach stones with a geological hammer, always wear proper eye protection—flint and pyrites splinter like shards of glass. 4. Recording Rare Finds Loose, common fossils like small ammonites, belemnites, and fossilised wood are fine to collect in moderation. If you discover a significant vertebrate fossil—such as ichthyosaur bones or rare prehistoric fish—do not attempt to excavate it yourself. Take photos, record the exact location, and notify the Charmouth Heritage Coast Centre or the Lyme Regis Museum so trained geologists can assess and preserve it for science. Seaton beach on a calm summer day

What a difference weather can make to a place. One time when I walked through Braunton Burrows it was so hot you could fool yourself you were in the middle of the Sahara Desert as you passed trough the big dunes. On another day just after Christmas a few years ago, I began to wonder what hypothermia might feel like. The dunes at Braunton Burrows Walking in locations during very different meteorological conditions can be like visiting two totally separate countries. Braunton Burrows is certainly no exception to that rule. However, the Burrows never disappoint. The massive 2,400 acre area boasts no fewer than 477 different species of flowering plant, some of which are as rare as hen’s teeth. There are also 33 different species of butterflies and 18 different types of dragonfly and damselfly - not that any of them will be in evidence at this time of the year. Never mind. Rain or shine, sun or snow, the Burrows is a fascinating place for a walk… One of the most weird and wonderful areas open to the public anywhere in the West Country. In fact, it is the second largest dune area in Britain. It belongs to the Christie Estate (same people who own Glynebourne of operatic fame) and they have been good enough to keep the place open to the public. To get to the Burrows you take one of several lanes that meander across an area reminiscent of the Somerset Levels. Rhines divide the fields and reeds bend in the breeze. These lanes eventually join forces to terminate in a large car park which serves the main area of dunes. An interpretation board tells you about the dune systems, which are far more complex than you may think - and also tells you not to enter the great demesne if the red flag is flying. “It was like being in Afghanistan yesterday,” said a passer-by when I was walking here years ago. “Tanks, machine guns, helicopters. The lot…" See our Devon page here for more ideas of what to do and where to see On another visit I was joined by three Burrows experts, and I asked them if the army’s right to hold manoeuvres in the dune system didn’t conflict with the fragile natural environment... “We are actually very grateful for the MOD presence,” replied a man from the North Devon Biosphere. “It has helped to control or slow down the vegetation. It’s not bombs and things like you get in a place like Salisbury Plain - it’s the fact that they can come in with their four-wheel-drive vehicles. We are able to say to the army that we need that bit scuffed up a bit - so they drive their Land Rovers or Vikings over that part and it opens up the sand, which starts a succession which allows those early pioneer plants to come in. So the military presence has been really good for us over the last 60 years.” Check out some circular hikes on Devon here The Army’s messing about in the dunes is also good news for walkers because easy-to-follow tracks have been created running hither and thither allowing you to explore just about every single corner of the huge sandy expanse. One of the walks I’ve done several times in the Burrows is to proceed along the track from the car park and, where it turns right under a sign saying "Coast Path", carry straight on, aiming at the nearest dune. I recall that the first time I did this it was my intention to go to the sea. I thought you’d cross a dune and there it would be. But having crossed one huge Saharan hill, I was confronted by another even bigger one. And so on. The dunes go on and on. Although you are free to roam, it is best to try and keep to the paths. This place is famous for its rich flora and is, according to one guide: “A species-rich calcareous dune grassland with good examples of a variety of important communities. The short turf areas are extremely rich in herbs and lichens, including a number of nationally rare species. Flowering herbs such as large thyme Thymus pulegioides, common restharrow Ononis repens and common bird’s-foot-trefoil Lotus corniculatus are locally dominant.” See the walk across the estuary at Westward Ho! here along with 3 other routes in the area Among all that foliage there are adders - in fact one year I was walking here I was told that no fewer than 13 dogs had been bitten by snake in the Burrows during a single summer. Not surprisingly, I didn’t see any reptiles in the frost as I walked to the great beach that took me south past Airy Point towards Crow Point, and no slithery things were in evidence as I made my way back up north through the dunes. There are various ways of doing this return leg walk. The South West Coast Path takes a detour down through the wandering sands to dip a toe into the joint Taw and Torridge estuaries at a place marked on the OS map with the word ‘Groynes”. It’s as if the long distance trail wants to see where it will be many miles from now having marched all the way east up to Barnstaple, before returning west back around Instow then Bideford before gaining Appledore and Northam Burrows, whose dunes lie just half a mile away from the Braunton groynes. By following the coast path east through the dunes I skipped the cold and windy southerly corner of Crow Point and eventually came to the corner where the famous long distance trail enters the Torridge-Taw estuary zone. By following the path north you can simply march directly back up to the car park - or you may wish to meander through the semi-sheltered and rather wonderful dunes instead, which is more fun. Fact File Basic Hike: across the centre of Braunton Burrows to reach the flats of Saunton Sands, the south down the coast and to Airy Point before returning through the dunes. Distance and going: five miles - easy going if you don’t mind walking in sand. Recommended Map: Ordnance Survey Explorer 139. LOCAL KNOWLEDGE Soliloquy to Squires Squires Fish and Chips in Braunton are among the best in the west. A portion of their finest is such a “must” for me I’ve been known to travel miles just for a fresh fried fillet of their cod and some mushy peas. A Bow to Barnstaple The old bridge at Barnstaple If you do go to Braunton Burrows, visit Barnstaple just a few miles away. There’s something charming about the town I’ve never been able to quite put my finger on - but please do ask why there are no longer any butchers in wonderful Butcher’s Row. To me that is one of the saddest high-street facts in this region. Happy Among the Hulks If you like old hulks or the long lost remains of old wooden boats, do take a detour around Crow Point and stroll to Velator Quay which is located just to the south of the village of Braunton at a point where the River Caen turns tidal.

What Is a Psammosere and Why Braunton Burrows Matters Do you know what a psammosere is? No, neither did I. What I now know is that the word psammosere is used to describe a sand dune system – and that Braunton Burrows the largest psammosere in England. If you haven’t ever been there, please go. Braunton Burrows is truly magnificent – and it boasts its own Secret Seaside. Saunton Sands: The Famous Face of North Devon’s Dunes Of course, everyone knows Saunton Sands which run so broadly and majestically down the north-south seaward side of the massive dune system. It’s one of the biggest, most outstanding, sandy beaches in South West England. I even have a photographer pal who took pictures of a Hercules transport aircraft landing on Saunton Sands - so no such beach could ever be described as secret. SEE MORE FASCINATING DEVON WALKS AND PLACES HERE Introducing Crow Beach: North Devon’s Hidden Curve of Glory However, Crow Beach could. It’s just around the corner, tucked behind the point that gives it a name – and you will rarely see many people clogging up its mystical sandy acres. At least, not in comparison with the busy upper end of Saunton Sands, or neighbouring Croyde - or any of the other big North Devon beaches, come to that. Crow Beach - or Broad Sands, to give it another name – is by no means the loneliest or least visited seaside in this series, but it is far from well known – as I was able to prove when I quizzed my learned brother on the subject. Hidden Waterscapes: Velator Creek, Horsey Island and the River Caen “Do you know Velator Creek?” I asked him. “Or how about Horsey Island or the River Caen?” My maritime loving brother John knows more about the West Country littoral than anyone else I can think of, and yet he drew a blank on my little Taw-side listing. For that is where you’ll find all these places: at the mouth of the River Taw, on its northern shore just before it rounds Crow Point to join its sister, the River Torridge, at the place where the two say goodbye to land and make for the ocean. It’s their collective activity down the centuries – their dual fight with the sea – which has caused the massive psammosere known as Braunton Burrows. Ecology and Rarity: Braunton Burrows in Detail Here’s what the official blurb has to say about the place: “It is particularly important ecologically because it includes the complete successional range of dune plant communities, with over 400 vascular plant species. The short turf communities are very rich in lichens and herbs, and the dune slacks are also rich. The many rare plants and animals include 14 with UK biodiversity action plans. For example, this is one of only two sites in the UK for the amber sandbowl snail Catinella arenaria.” The official website also states: “The site is currently leased by the Ministry of Defence from the Christie Devon Estates Trust. It is also used, particularly by local people, for a range of leisure activities, particularly dog-walking, from three large car parks adjacent to the site. There is a long tradition of scientific research, particularly botanical.” Fish and Chips and Forgotten Quays: My Route to the Secret So, how did I find myself down on Crow Beach at the very southern edge of the dune system the other day after that long meeting? The reason was that - deprived of light and half starving - I repaired to Squires fish and chip emporium in Braunton, which I believe to be the best in the region. Having bought my cod and mushy peas I was looking for somewhere al-fresco in which to enjoy them when I stumbled upon Velator Quay – a shrine of hulks and hulls. The quay is located just to the south of Braunton at a point where the River Caen turns tidal. For those of you who haven’t heard of this North Devon waterway, it rises in the hills which separate Barnstaple and Ilfracombe and runs just a few short miles to the south. The Industrial Past of Velator Quay The quay has that wonderful forgotten air I love – but forgotten airs only come about because such places were once at the hub of things. Research Velator Quay and you will learn all manner of details about grand canal schemes and the like, which came about when the whole surrounding area of erstwhile saltings and marshes was being reclaimed. The quay at Velator was opened in 1870 and - amazingly given the slightly neglected scene today – visited by ships of up to 130 tons in size. These large boats continued to call in regularly right up to the 1960s. Walking the Dyke: Towards Crow Point The reclaimed meadowlands hereabouts are guarded by massive dykes, and it was this extensive system of raised embankments which provided me with a post cod-and-mushy-peas stroll. From the quay you can follow the South West Coast Path downstream – it adheres to the top of the embankment and passes the Toll House which is on the little private road that leads down to Crow Point. This was my destination, but to get there it’s best to take the right hand path at the Y-shaped junction just south of the toll point so that you can walk around the coast of Horsey Island. This is a great wedged-shaped area of salt meadow land that guards the western side of the Caen’s estuary – or, rather, the place where it flows into the main Taw Estuary. After Pill’s Mouth the path veers south west and heads direct for the point where you will be able to see the great dunes of the Burrows descend to their southernmost point. Crow Beach and the Mystery of the Wreck Crow Beach is the sickle-shaped bay that stretches between you and the end of the dunes – and a very handsome little curve of glory it is too… I’ve been there twice in the past two years and not seen another soul, save for one or two dog-walkers way back in the dunes. Admittedly, when I went this week the school holidays had just broken up – I have the distinct feeling this soft-sand beach can get pretty full at times. One of the things I particularly like about Crow Beach is that it plays host to one of the loveliest wooden hulks I’ve seen anywhere. The big red wooden hull lies careened in the sand and you can’t help but wonder what wondrous vessel this once was. Why We Should Celebrate Rust, Wrecks and River Mouths Old boats – some lived in, some rotting – marine projects in the making, the hopeless results of grown men’s boyish dreams, the tangible testimonies of mankind’s love for the sea, timber hints of past summers, plastic optimism for races that will never be sailed, modest dinghies lying derelict and, best of all, massive hulks that once ruled the ocean wave. Why do I like ruined boats cluttering beaches and hidden creeks that nine out of 10 councillors would like to see “tidied up”? Because, in my opinion, they hold more character and charm in one muddy oozing acre than many of our finest bits of countryside do in whole square miles. Creeks, estuarine nooks and crannies, forgotten river mouths, secret seasides – call them what you will – all are salty romantic jewels in the crown of the Westcountry peninsula. And if I am in a minority when it comes to loving them, then so be it. To hell with the tidy-uppers, may the lovers of the clinically empty “nice and pretty” type landscapes sink to the gunnels, down with the detesters of rusting corrugated iron. Wrecks rule, OK? To which all my friends say in chorus: “You would say that – you are the living embodiment of the Wreck of the Hesperus.” One Last Glimpse Around the Headland But never mind. Let’s stick our heads around the sandy tip of Crow Point. We might as well now we’re here – and it’s quite a surprise because the scene changes completely. We were now on the banks of the combined Taw and Torridge Estuaries at a place where you get fantastic views of Appledore. I walked back through the dunes to sit on the old wreck – and did so with feelings of vague annoyance. You see, I wrote about the wooden hulled hulk before once and someone kindly sent me a letter explaining which vessel she was and why she’d ended up deep in the sands of this beautiful beach. I have lost that letter. And maybe, just maybe, that is just as well. The romance of wrecks is all about their mystery. Where have they been? Who sailed in her and why? Sometimes when you learn – for example - that something was nothing but a coal-smack plying between Barnstaple and Swansea, the romance disappears. Which is a bit like secret seasides – you don’t really want to know too much about them. You just need to know they exist and that sometime – some distant happy time – you might get to visit them. Perhaps in an hour of need, like when you’ve been locked in a meeting all one bright sunny morning. Frequently Asked Questions about Crow Point Beach Where is Crow Point Beach? Crow Point lies on the western side of the Taw Estuary near Braunton in North Devon, opposite Instow and close to Braunton Burrows. Can you swim at Crow Point? Swimming is possible but visitors should take great care because of strong estuary currents and changing tides. Is Crow Point dog friendly? Yes. It is popular with walkers and dog owners, although visitors should always check any seasonal restrictions. Is Crow Point busy? No. Even in summer it is usually far quieter than nearby Saunton Sands or Croyde. Can you walk from Braunton Burrows to Crow Point? Yes. One of the joys of visiting is combining the beach with walks through the remarkable dune system of Braunton Burrows. Why is Crow Point special? Its huge skies, expansive sands, estuary wildlife and peaceful atmosphere make it one of North Devon's most overlooked coastal locations.

From the sweeping sands of Bideford Bay to the sheer, dizzying sea-cliffs of Exmoor, North Devon offers a landscape of striking contrasts. Whether you are tracing lost Victorian railway lines, exploring secret sea-coves, or wandering through vast dune systems, these four circular routes capture the very best of the northern coast. Coast path near Westward Ho! 1. Westward Ho! & Cornborough Cliffs Circular "Westward Ho! is the only place in Britain to have an exclamation mark as part of its name. It’s a delightful and idiosyncratic Victorian seaside resort—and fertile ground for chalets and caravans. But we walkers needn’t concern ourselves with any of this, as we’re about to turn our backs on the whole shooting match." Fact File Distance & Going: 4 miles | Very easy going; flat coastal paths along a disused railway cutting, gentle field footpaths, and quiet country lanes. Start & Parking: Coastal Car Park at the far western end of Westward Ho! (EX39 1JU), near the cliff edge. Pub Pitstop: The Pier House or The Pig on the Hill (Abbotsham) — great for local ales, sea views, and hearty post-walk lunches. Dog-friendly. IF YOU ENJOY THESE WALKS CHECK OUT OUR DEVON WALKS HUB HERE Westward Ho! The Route Narrative Leaving Westward Ho! behind, pass the coastal dog-walking field and round the point at Rock Nose. Here, the path enters a distinct cutting with a wide, level track that speaks immediately of a permanent way. This was once part of the short-lived Bideford, Westward Ho! and Appledore Railway, which ran along this remote stretch of shore until the steam engines were called up for war service in 1917. Follow the wild, atmospheric track past Cornborough Cliffs Halt—where local laver collectors once gathered seaweed—and take in the vast views sweeping southwest toward Clovelly and Hartland Point. Coast heading away west from Westward Ho! Where the old railway line veers inland toward Bideford, cross the small footbridge over the coastal stream and pick up the public footpath heading up across the fields toward Abbotsham Court. Follow the paved lane inland past Rickard’s Down and through the quiet hamlet of Lake. From Buckleigh, a National Trust right-of-way leads back through high pastureland with superb views over Bideford Bay, descending sharply to the starting car park. The Pub & Stay Anchor After soaking up the wild Atlantic breezes at Cornborough, drop into The Pier House perched directly on the sea wall at Westward Ho!, or head slightly inland to The Pig on the Hill at Abbotsham for country pub dining. If you are planning a longer break in the area, Westward Ho! and nearby Appledore offer an excellent range of ocean-facing holiday apartments, coastal chalets, and historic cottages. The rocky beaches west of Westward Ho! 2. Trentishoe & Heddon’s Mouth Cleave High Circuit "Stand high on the western rim of Exmoor's rift valley and you get the impression that God used an axe when he created this little lot." Heddon's Mouth Cleave from Trentishoe Fact File Distance & Going: 3 miles | Easy going; high-level road walking along quiet byways, smooth contour footpaths, and cliff paths. Start & Parking: Roadside parking at Holdstone Down (EX31 4QJ), where the open moorland meets the walled fields above Trentishoe. Pub Pitstop: The Hunter’s Inn, Heddon’s Valley — a famous characterful inn tucked in the valley below, perfect for local cider, real ales, and pub meals. The Route Narrative This high-altitude circuit stays on a level contour around the roof of the Exmoor coast, offering vertiginous sea views without grueling climbs. Walk down Trentishoe Lane, a peaceful car-an-hour byway, toward the tiny 15th-century Church of St Peter. Tucked away in its hollow, this modest house of worship was once a haven for local smugglers—in 1827, Customs men seized 262 tubs of contraband brandy hidden under a local farmer’s stable floor. Looking down on Hunter's Inn from Trentishoe Just below Trentishoe, pick up the footpath branching left off the lane. The ground suddenly opens up into the great void of Heddon’s Mouth Cleave—a towering, 700-foot ravine with steep shale slopes plunging down to the rushing river below. Follow the high path as it edges north around the great shoulder of the cleave above the sea, rounding the hill west toward East Cleave. Pick up the South West Coast Path past North Cleave Gut—home to some of the highest, most impenetrable sea-cliffs in England—before curving inland around the field boundaries back to Holdstone Down. Church window at Trentishoe The Pub & Stay Anchor To cap off this high-level walk, drive the short distance down into the wooded valley to The Hunter’s Inn, an iconic Victorian lodge offering fine ales and riverside gardens. For a peaceful Exmoor escape, the quiet hamlets of Trentishoe, Martinhoe, and Woody Bay offer secluded stone holiday cottages and country guesthouses surrounded by wild moorland. WHY NOT TAKE A LOOK AT 6 GREAT DEVON PUB WALKS HERE The church at Trentishoe 3. Northam Burrows Peninsula Loop "Northam Burrows is a magical dune-land jutting into the bay, offering a remarkable opportunity for 'foreign travel'. It is reminiscent of Holland—as if a bit of Texel has been cut adrift and somehow ended up on the Devon coast like a big flat piece of sandy jetsam." Northam Burrows from the sea Fact File Distance & Going: 5 miles | Easy, flat walking; sandy beaches, wooden boardwalks, shingle ridges, and grassy dune paths. Start & Parking: Sandymere Car Park, Northam Burrows Country Park (EX39 1XS). Pub Pitstop: The Beaver Inn or The Globe Inn (Appledore) — historic maritime pubs serving fresh local seafood and cask ales right on the estuary waterfront. Appledore from Northam Burrows The Route Narrative Begin by crossing the wooden boardwalk over the great shingle ridge and dropping down onto the vast, 3-kilometre sandy beach stretching north from Westward Ho! Walk north across the wide sands toward Zulu Sands, where razor-shells litter the tide line and kite-buggies catch the Atlantic winds. At the northern tip of the peninsula, where the combined waters of the Taw and Torridge rivers sweep out to sea, turn the corner and follow the shingle ridge inland along the river shore. Westward Ho! from Northam Burrows Here, the South West Coast Path skirts the famous Royal North Devon Golf Club—where local 'potwallopers' still exercise ancient grazing rights for their sheep and ponies. Follow the trail past the salt-marsh creek of The Skern, an internationally important sanctuary for wading birds, before cutting back across the spiky Sharp Rush dunes and Sandymere back to the car park. The Pub & Stay Anchor Follow the trail right to the edge of neighbouring Appledore and visit The Beaver Inn for a pint overlooking the Torridge Estuary, or explore the narrow, colourful lanes to find a traditional quayside tavern Northam Burrows and Appledore are ideal for a coastal getaway, offering everything from quayside fishermen's cottages to modern apartments overlooking Bideford Bay. Gulls and mud on Northam Burrows, 4. Ilfracombe, Torrs Park & Lee Bay Circular "Between Mortehoe and Ilfracombe lies an extraordinarily engineered landscape where Victorian railway pioneers carved tunnels straight through the granite hills to reach the Severn Sea." Ilfracombe Harbour Fact File Distance & Going: 9 miles (or 6 miles with short-cut) | Moderate to energetic going; flat disused railway tracks, stone tunnels, steep coastal paths, and wooded coombe paths. Start & Parking: Old Railway Bridge Car Park near Mortehoe Station / Borough Road (EX34 8ET). Pub Pitstop: The Grampus Inn, Lee Bay — an atmospheric 14th-century coastal pub featuring home-brewed ales, a lovely garden, and local food. Dog-friendly. A walker taking our path west of Ilfracombe The Route Narrative Set off north along the disused Barnstaple-to-Ilfracombe railway line. Opened in 1874 to carry the grand Atlantic Coast Express, this path sinks into immense rock cuttings before passing through a fine stone-walled tunnel beneath the hills. Beyond the tunnel, the track passes two quiet reservoirs before descending through the Welsh Valley-like suburb of Lower Slade. Follow the line down into the seaside town of Ilfracombe to pick up the South West Coast Path. The trail climbs steeply up through The Seven Hills out onto Torrs Park—a high National Trust coastal heath offering sweeping views across the Bristol Channel toward South Wales. View of Iflracombe from the west The coast path winds west over the high cliffs before dropping into the quiet, sheltered cove of Lee Bay. From the sea front, head inland up the wooded coombe, following marked footpaths up through the trees to rejoin the lane near the old railway bridge. The Pub & Stay Anchor Nestled in the quiet valley at the end of the coastal stretch sits The Grampus Inn at Lee Bay, a legendary stop for walkers offering local beers, farm-fresh dishes, and a warm fireside welcome. Lee Bay and the high coastal heath above Ilfracombe offer lovely secluded stone cottages, cliff-top apartments, and traditional B&Bs along the North Devon coast. A seagull observes Ilfracombe harbour

Devon and Cornwall are blessed with some of Britain's finest beaches, from huge surfing sands and family-friendly stretches to tiny coves hidden beneath dramatic cliffs. Here are 10 of my favourite beaches across the two counties — places I return to for their scenery, swimming, character and, sometimes, the chance to escape the crowds. Polzeath After decades exploring the South West coast for newspapers and magazines, these are the Best Beaches in Devon and Cornwall I return to—whether I'm looking for family-friendly sands, dramatic scenery, swimming or somewhere to escape the crowds. Chapel Porth beach in Cornwall Why Devon and Cornwall Have Britain's Best Beaches Mid-June is traditionally a time when people really begin to think of the true summer to come and start making plans about which beaches they may visit when the sun does decide to shine in heated earnest. Few places in Britain can rival the beaches of Devon and Cornwall. From vast surfing strands and family-friendly sands to tiny coves hidden beneath towering cliffs, the variety is extraordinary. To me, it's some of those tiny coves that come top of my wishlist. The tiny cove at Porthgwarra Much of this remarkable coastline is protected by the National Trust, ensuring that many of its finest beaches remain unspoilt and free from overdevelopment. Better still, the 630-mile South West Coast Path follows virtually every mile of the Devon and Cornwall coastline, allowing walkers to discover secluded coves and spectacular viewpoints that are inaccessible by road. It's this unique combination of natural beauty, careful conservation and easy access that makes the South West England's finest beach destination. Of course, it is impossible to make such a list, but here’s what I came up with. And in this glorious weather I’d like to be on any one of them… Walking across the sands at Rock Pedn Vounder: Perhaps my No 1 favourite. Just thinking of its perfect rocks, sea and sand makes me want to jump in the car and drive the 160 miles it would take to reach this westerly spot. Pity it’s so distant in furthest West Penwith - and, be warned, the climb down requires you to hang on to a rope. Hesp at Pedn Vounder years ago Woolacombe: The antithesis to Pedn Vounder. Easy-to-reach, huge, extremely popular… But the crowds don’t go there for nothing - fabulous sand and surf, this is England’s answer to California. And you can always escape the hordes by walking along the dunes to Baggy Point. North Devon is rich in wonderful beaches. View from Baggy Point looking down at Woolacombe sands Beer: Not the booze but the wonderful old-fashioned cobble beach under the East Devon village of that name… Think: excellent tea-shops located in wooden beach huts, clinker-built motor-boats you can hire, fishermen hauling their crab boats up on winches and local families who’ve been hanging out here for summertime decades. East Devon is another area eich in wonderful beaches. Summer crowds on Beer beach St Martins Bay, Isles of Scilly: Simply the best, finest, white sand to be found anywhere in Europe. This is where the West Country turns into the Caribbean - the blue-green waters are so clear you can see that fine white sand 40 feet down when you are snorkelling. St Martins is remote. Beautiful. Unforgettable. The white sands of St Martins Maceley Cove: If you adore distant, empty coves where a small horseshoe of sand is bordered by rocks and pools and a restless, crystal-clear sea, then Maceley Cove is for you. So wonderfully wild, picturesque and oddly foreign are the environs around the charming little village of East Prawle - that the area long ago ascended straight to the top of my list of favourite places. Maceley Cove in shadow on the south Devon coast Saunton Sands: so wide and smooth and wonderful I have even seen large Hercules aeroplanes landing here. So large, you can always find a quiet corner for yourself. Also at Saunton Sands you can visit the amazing Braunton Burrows dunes – an officially classified 'biosphere'. The wide stretch of Saunton Sands Porthcothan: One of the finest beaches on the North Cornish coast. Great sand and surf, with plenty of alluring rock pools when the tide goes down. You might even recognise the place where Ross Poldark in the recent TV series forever galloped along the top of the cliffs. Porthcothan is where I used to take my family on most of our beach holidays. The beach at Porthcothan, Cornwall Lantic Bay: Another small horseshoe of sand bordered by rocks and pools and crystal-clear sea classic… And like Maceley and so many other coves, a bit difficult to reach on foot from nearby Polruan. Which is why this one is so popular with boating beach-goers all summer long. The empty beach of Lantic Bay, near Polruan Portheras Cove: Another West Penwith special. Portheras, tucked away under the Pendeen Watch Lighthouse, is a jewel among coves. A golden sand beach of near perfect proportions. A remote bit of rocky littoral that hangs in the mind like a beautiful dream. A fabulous, oceanic, ozone-filled dream… Portheras Cove down in West Penwith Stoke Beach: Down in the South Hams west of Mothecombe Beach on the Erme Estuary - it’s just about all the sandy same when the tide is out and you can paddle and sunbathe in one of the most peaceful places in the region. If the tide is in, take a canoe and explore the fabulous local coast . Stoke Beach on the South Hams coast in Devon And another for good measure - the beach at Bedruthan Step...

Here’s a rarity. A sunshine destination that - despite sandy beaches and a comparatively short flying time from the UK - has not been discovered by sun-worshipping hordes from Northern Europe. The golden sand beach at Porto Santo Why not? It’s a question I’ve been asking since I first learned about the existence of Porto Santo. Most places with good beaches, reachable from northern Europe within just a morning or afternoon’s flight, became tourism magnets years ago - and, being a near neighbour of Madeira, this small but delightful island is on every pilot’s map and it has a giant runway capable of taking long-haul jets. Porto Santo Fact File: Essential Travel Info Where is Porto Santo? A Portuguese island in the Madeira archipelago, situated in the North Atlantic roughly 43 km (27 miles) northeast of Madeira. How to Get There: By Ferry (Porto Santo Line): The Lobo Marinho car passenger ferry runs daily from Funchal, Madeira. The crossing takes approximately 2 hours 15 minutes each way, making day trips or multi-day stays very easy. By Air: Daily 15-minute inter-island flights run from Funchal (FNC) to Porto Santo Airport (PXO) via Binter Canarias, alongside seasonal direct charter flights from the UK and European hubs. Famous For: A 9 km (nearly 6 miles) stretch of continuous golden, therapeutic sand rich in minerals, quiet walking trails (Pico de Ana Ferreira, Pico do Castelo), fresh Atlantic seafood, and Christopher Columbus's historic former home. Getting Around: Taxis, local public buses, e-bike rentals, and small hire cars make navigating the compact island straightforward. Planning a trip to Porto Santo? Porto Santo has everything from beachfront resorts and boutique hotels to self-catering apartments just steps from its famous golden sands. A Comparative Secret: Why Isn't Porto Santo Crammed with Sun-Seekers? So why isn’t it crammed with sun-seekers? The only way to find out was to go there myself, and I did just that earlier this month. And I still find myself asking why this nine mile long island (five miles wide - total area 16 square miles) is a comparative secret? Neighbouring Madeira gets around 2.5 million tourists a year, but Porto Santo only attracts around a twentieth of that number. One answer is that the quarter-million people who live on Madeira seem to want to keep the isle as a secret vacation destination of their own. Porto Santo is where the Madeirans go on holiday. If it’s remaining visitors do not come from next door, then most of them arrive from the Portuguese mainland. So this delightful interesting and pleasant isle - which enjoys equable weather (sunny, but not too hot) throughout most of the year - remains for the most part undiscovered. Which, alone, is enough to attract someone like me and, I bet, many readers of this newspaper. No boozy pubs blasting loud music, no kiss-me-quick-hats hiding human lobsters from the sun. Sorry if that sounds snobbish, but an old countryman like me is bound to prefer somewhere quiet for his vacations. I also like somewhere that offers a bit of authenticity and interest. A World Removed from Its Dramatic Big Brother If you stand on the eastern cliffs of Madeira on a clear Atlantic afternoon, you can just about make out a low smudge on the northern horizon. That is Porto Santo. It sits a mere 27 miles away, yet it is a world entirely removed from its dramatic, jagged, subtropical big brother. Where Madeira is all soaring peaks, dripping levadas, and sheer volcanic cliffs dropping into a moody sea, Porto Santo is windswept, not as mountainous, and arid. Its real crowning glory - the thing that makes most Madeirans look north with eager anticipation - is the beach. Just one beach, actually. However, it is almost six miles long - that’s nine kilometres of unbroken, soft, golden sand. That is what persuades thousands of Madeira’s to hop on the ferry every weekend. Apart from a few black boulder coves, Madeira doesn’t have much in the way of beaches. They love Porto Santo’s grand strand so much they even bury themselves in the sands in the belief they have therapeutic mineral properties. We took the quick quarter-of-an-hour flight from Funchal to Porto Santo. Looking out the window of the small plane, you could instantly see the difference between the two islands. Madeira is, for the most part, wonderfully green - a vertiginous island full of trees, ferns, vineyards, orchards and ferns - while Porto Santo appears to be yellow and parched. In some ways it looks more like one of the Canary Isles, 300 miles to the southeast. Arid, no trees. It does have mountains - sharp-pointed uplands that are really just hills compared to Madeira’s much higher peaks. And there’s that giant beach stretching along most of the island’s south coast, complete with its comparatively modest handful of large family hotels. At one end sits the one and only town Vila Baleira - a pleasant quiet little place… One of the quiet squares in Vila Baleira, Porto Santo Vila Baleira: A Sleepy Atlantic Outpost with Portuguese Charm Take a stroll through its streets and the town feels less like a bustling regional hub and more like a sleepy, whitewashed Algarve fishing village that somehow drifted into the Atlantic. Everything radiates outward from the Largo do Pelourinho, a handsome palm-fringed central square where a few old boys sit on shaded stone benches watching the world go by. Looking for somewhere to stay? Vila Baleira is the ideal base for exploring the island, with most hotels, restaurants and cafés within easy walking distance. You can walk from one side of town to the other in the time it takes to finish a beer. The architecture is a nod to the Portuguese past - low-slung, white walls, terracotta tiled roofs, and volcanic black basalt trim framing the windows and doorways. The buildings are solid, grounded, built to withstand the salty Atlantic winds that sweep across the hills. Long, long before it became renowned for its beach, Porto Santo was playing its part in the opening chapter of Portugal’s great Age of Discovery. In 1418, two sea captains, João Gonçalves Zarco and Tristão Vaz Teixeira, were blown off course by a ferocious Atlantic storm. Just as they thought the ocean would swallow them without trace, they spotted the island. In devout gratitude, they named it Porto Santo - the Holy Harbour. However, human habitation proved to be a hard slog. The isle did not have the rich soils or abundant water supplies that explorers found in Madeira - and things became considerably worse when early settlers foolishly released rabbits. They promptly ate almost all the native vegetation. Quick Guide to Porto Santo Paste this structured highlight box near the top of your post (under your opening paragraph): Highlight What to Expect Top Tip for Visitors The 9km Golden Beach Soft, mineral-rich biogenic sand stretching along warm turquoise waters. Walk down to Ponta da Calheta at the southern tip for dramatic coastal views. Vila Baleira The island's quiet main town featuring whitewashed streets, palm gardens, and local cafes. Visit the Casa de Cristóvão Colombo, where Columbus lived in the 1480s. Pico de Ana Ferreira Striking geological formation featuring massive hexagonal basalt "organ pipes". Great for a quick photo stop or short hike up to the caves. Getting There 2.5-hour scenic ferry ride (Lobo Marinho) or 15-minute hop-flight from Funchal, Madeira. Take the morning ferry from Funchal and rent an electric bike or scooter on arrival. Seeking Authenticity at the Casa de Salão Museum To learn about all this we visited Casa de Salão, a small privately run museum dedicated to preserving the island’s traditional way of life, located in the mountainous empty north-eastern corner of the island. It was here that we discovered just how hard must have been. Housed in a beautifully restored example of a typical “salão” (farmhouse), it showcases the story of island agriculture and fishing and offers visitors a fascinating glimpse into this outpost’s difficult past. From it we could see the terraces going up impossibly steep mountainsides where they once grew cereals used to make the famous Bolo do Caco - the soft, flat, round and delicious bread still sold in both Madeira and Porto Santo. The man who runs the authentic Casa de Salão Museum I was far more impressed with this modest but effective, free-to-enter, one-man operated museum, than I was by the posh, well-funded, Christopher Columbus Museum in town. Authenticity is everything. You can chuck money or EU funding at any kind of presentation you want, but if it fails to tell the real underlying story, then it’s just so much show and bumph. As its name suggests, the far better known town museum relates to a very famous past-resident. A young, ambitious chart-maker named Christopher Columbus turned up in the late 1470s, married Filipa Moniz Perestrelo - the daughter of the island’s first governor - and settled for a time in Vila Baleira. It was here, staring out at the Atlantic horizons and studying strange debris washed ashore by the western currents, that he consolidated theories that would eventually launch him toward the New World. The gardens of Porto Santo's Christopher Columbus Museum Casa de Colombo museum is located in the sturdy stone house where Columbus lived and a visit does allow you to sense the isolation and the immense ocean horizons that must have fuelled his theories about what lay across the water. We called at the end of the day - and afterwards discovered that when evening falls, the town doesn’t jump into action as so many seaside resorts do, so much as gently rolls over. A handful of unpretentious seafood restaurants and beachside cafes turn on their lights and serve what is basically Portuguese cuisine. It’s the kind of town where the grandest daily event is watching the sun slip below the horizon. Where to Stay and How to Explore the Island Our temporary Porto Santo home was the Columbus Hotel, part of The Navigator Collection, situated a couple of miles southwest along the beach from Vila Baleira. A large, stylish, family-based retreat, the hotel offers all-inclusive comfort, spacious rooms, swimming pools and spa facilities - and provides an ideal base from which to explore the island. It was from The Columbus that Nuno Santes La picked us up several times for tours of the island. Nuno works for the specialist tour company, Lazermar, and I would recommend calling on his expertise if you ever visit. A local man, Nuno was able to take us to hidden parts of the island - such as the small-but-perfectly-formed Quinta Das Palmeiras - a miniature bird zoo and botanical garden that is a green oasis in the centre of the island’s arid landscape. The small-but-perfectly-formed Quinta Das Palmeiras - Home to parrots, macaws and other exotic birds, the place has been the lifelong dream of Carlos Afonso, who has spent years transforming barren ground into a green, watery, flourishing and utterly surprising sanctuary. As well as taking us to various moutain-tops and hidden coves, Nuno also pointed us towards the excellent Mercado Velho, a small, basic, but hugely popular (with locals), restaurant right in the heart of town, where I enjoyed one of the best seafood dishes I’ve had in a long while. Mercado Velho, a small, basic, but hugely popular (with locals), restaurant right in the heart of town I’ll conclude by saying that this is an island that feels like a throwback to the Mediterranean of 40 years ago. A place of sleepy squares, wind-battered wooden windmills, and a pace of life so slow it makes stately Madeira look positively frantic. The very end of Porto Santo's six mile long sand beach SIDEBAR: The Rota do Atum (Tuna Route Festival) The Rota do Atum - or Tuna Route Festival - is Porto Santo’s vibrant, early-June celebration of the Atlantic’s greatest silver bounty. A four-day gastronomic event that transforms the sleepy island into a high-end culinary hub where local maritime heritage meets contemporary haute cuisine… The festival is a mix of education, eating, competition, and late-night celebration. Mornings and afternoons are dedicated to the serious business of fish craft, featuring live demonstrations of massive bluefin tuna butchery, alongside masterclasses on sustainability and the art of using the fish’s by-products to reduce waste. Chefs at the Rota do Atum - or Tuna Route Festival International chefs are invited to run workshops covering everything from traditional Madeiran recipes to innovative ‘tuna brunches’. Every year, a guest country is honoured (it was Vietnam this year) as a way of introducing exotic global techniques to the local catch. (Visit https://ilhapeixe.pt/en/noticias/rota-do-atum-festival) Fact File & Travel Information For more information on what to see and do in Madeira and its neighbouring island, Porto Santo, visit: https://visitmadeira.com Madeira is easily accessible from across the UK, with direct flights from Bristol, Birmingham and Bournemouth among others, as well as London Gatwick and Stansted. 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 their airport parking in advance. Plus with Flextras, if you need to cancel or amend you can without charge. Six days’ Meet & Greet Valet Parking at Bristol Airport is available for £204.50 based on arrival on 01/07/2026. For more information and to book, HolidayExtras.com or call 0800 316 5678. Ready to discover Porto Santo? If you're looking for a quieter alternative to Madeira, compare today's prices for hotels, apartments and beach resorts before you travel.

Hidden away in the Grenadines, Bequia is one of the Caribbean's best-kept secrets. While nearby Mustique attracts celebrities and St Vincent draws adventure travellers, Bequia moves to an altogether gentler rhythm. This tiny island of just over 5,000 people offers glorious beaches, friendly locals, excellent restaurants and some of the most relaxed island life I have experienced anywhere in the Caribbean. How to Get to Bequia Our little island plane dropped off two local passengers at Carriacou before heading north across the dreamy isles mentioned to arrive at the green, green jewel of Bequia. From the small new airstrip, we were taken by specially adapted pick-up truck – which is the ubiquitous form of public transport on this island - to the wonderful and luxurious Bequia Beach Hotel, where I could happily have retired from journalism and just about everything else forever. 🏝️ Where to Stay in Bequia Looking for the perfect Caribbean escape? Compare boutique hotels, beachside guesthouses, apartments and villas across beautiful Bequia. Luxury on the Sands of Friendship Beach The resort is set on the slopes of the hill which run down to palm-strewn gardens and a beach. Friendship Beach to be exact – which has now entered my list of Top 10 beaches in the world. Think warm seas washing soft sand, shaded here and there by dramatically drooping trees and punctuated at one point by the hotel’s bar and excellent restaurant. It wasn’t the busiest season when we were there and the only things we shared the beach with were pelicans and crabs. When the heat got too much our large, air-conditioned, sensationally decorated apartment was a stylish refuge if ever there was one. Island Life at Ten Miles Per Hour A complete island tour took just three hours despite the fact we never went above 10 mph—and included stops at different altitudinous viewpoints, visits to wild beaches tucked beyond mighty palm groves, and a fascinating tour around Bequia’s Old Hegg Turtle Sanctuary. There are about 5,000 Bequians – they’re of African, Scottish, Irish, French, Indian and Carib descent – and English is the main language spoken. I’d heard that these islanders have an open friendly attitude to visitors and it is true - you can experience the full and jolly brunt of it if you spend a morning or afternoon in the tiny capital Port Elizabeth. Explore my Caribbean travel stories, islands and adventures The Laid-Back Charm of Port Elizabeth Nothing much happens save for the comings and goings of the St Vincent ferries, as well as the pick-up truck taxis. There’s a small market, quite a few intriguing shops and the general laid-back buzz that somehow pervades the numerous restaurants and eateries where you can order all manner of Caribbean foods and dishes. I went for conch salad – which was excellent in a chewy kind of way. If you are enjoying this article take a look at our St Lucia post here And Port Elizabeth – like all of Bequia – is beautiful to look at. Sublimely, dreamily, enticingly, beautiful. If you wander along the Belmont Walkway, a narrow coastal path that hugs the harbour, you’ll find hidden bars like Jack’s Beach Bar where the punch is strong and the sunset views over Admiralty Bay are peerless. Another of our Caribbean posts is all about Barbados - click here to read it Exploring the Grenadines Archipelago As you sit there sipping a cooling cocktail it is easy to think that this is the best location for a holiday in the world – until you remember the happy fact that you are not tied to just one destination. Bequia is part of the St. Vincent and the Grenadines chain, a constellation of islands that includes the celebrity-haunt of Mustique and the cinematic Tobago Cays. With the Just Bequia option, you get two for your money—pairing the quiet sophistication of this island with another nearby gem. It is a reminder that in this part of the world, the journey is just as evocative as the destination. Why Bequia Feels Different There are Caribbean islands that dazzle with casinos, designer boutiques and sprawling resorts, and then there is Bequia. Here, life still seems to unfold at a gentler pace. The roads are quiet, the harbour is filled with fishing boats and graceful yachts rather than giant cruise ships, and people have time to stop for a chat. Nobody appears to be in a hurry. There is an easy friendliness that cannot be manufactured for tourists and a refreshing absence of glitz. It reminds me of the Caribbean I first discovered many years ago, before mass tourism transformed so many islands. Bequia has somehow managed to preserve its soul, and that, more than its beaches or sunshine, is what makes it so memorable. Bequia Fact File: Essential Travel Information Where is Bequia? Bequia (pronounced Bek-way) is the second-largest island in the nation of St Vincent and the Grenadines, situated in the southern Caribbean roughly 9 miles (14 km) south of the main island of St Vincent. How to Get There: By Ferry (Most Popular): Regular, scenic passenger ferries (such as the Bequia Express and Admiralty Transport) run multiple times daily from Kingstown, St Vincent, into Port Elizabeth, Bequia. The crossing takes approximately 60 to 75 minutes. By Air: Small chartered flights and scheduled island-hopper services (e.g. SVG Air) operate into Bequia’s J.F. Mitchell Airport (BQU), primarily connecting via Barbados or St Vincent. Currency & Payments: Eastern Caribbean Dollar (XCD / EC$). US Dollars are widely accepted across the island, and major credit cards are taken at larger hotels and restaurants, though having cash on hand is recommended for water taxis, local markets, and small bars. Language: English (official) and Vincentian Creole. Getting Around the Island: Colourful open-backed "dollar buses" and licensed taxis operate across the island; local water taxis run frequently between Port Elizabeth harbour and popular shores like Princess Margaret Beach and Lower Bay. Best Time to Visit: December to May marks the dry, warm high season with consistent cooling trade winds. Top Things to Do on Bequia Despite measuring just seven square miles, Bequia offers a rich blend of classic West Indian maritime heritage, sheltered sandy coves, and relaxed harbour life. Here are the highlights not to miss: 1. The Best Beaches Princess Margaret Beach: Named after the late royal who swam here in 1958, this wide golden-sand bay features calm turquoise water ideal for swimming and snorkelling, backed by lush green cedar trees. Lower Bay: Just around the headland from Princess Margaret Beach, Lower Bay offers a quintessential Caribbean beach scene—unhurried, fringed with sea grape trees, and home to a handful of laid-back rum shacks. Friendship Bay: Situated on the south coast overlooking the Grenadine channel toward Mustique, this long, curving beach is breezier and quieter, making it ideal for coastal walks and watching local fishing boats. Spring Bay: A wilder, Atlantic-facing bay lined with towering coconut palms, perfect for a solitary stroll away from the yachts. 2. Walks & Coastal Trails The Belmont Walkway: A charming stone and timber footpath skirting the water’s edge along Admiralty Bay, connecting Port Elizabeth directly to the beaches. It is one of the most scenic coastal ambles in the Caribbean, dotted with waterfront cafés and boat sheds. Peggy’s Whim & Mount Royal: For the island’s finest vantage point, hike up to Mount Royal—Bequia’s highest elevation at just under 900 feet. The trail rewards you with sweeping panoramic views across Admiralty Bay and down through the southern Grenadine archipelago. Hamilton Battery: A short, uphill walk north from Port Elizabeth brings you to the remains of an 18th-century lookout post, offering sweeping views over the harbour entrance. 3. Local Bars, Food & Island Life Port Elizabeth Harbour Market: Spend a morning browsing the vibrant waterfront stalls in the main town, laden with fresh breadfruit, mangoes, nutmeg, and locally caught mahi-mahi and tuna. Jack’s Beach Bar: A classic seaside stop situated directly on the sands of Princess Margaret Beach, renowned for fresh local grilled seafood, cold Hairoun beer, and rum punches as the sun dips below the horizon. Frangipani Waterfront Bar: A legendary gathering spot for yacht crews, sailors, and locals alike on Admiralty Bay, famous for its lively Thursday night barbecue and local string band music. Model Boat Building: Drop into Sargeant Brothers or Benson’s workshops to watch master craftsmen carve intricate, perfectly scaled replicas of traditional West Indian sailing vessels—a craft deeply rooted in Bequia’s seafaring heritage. Frequently Asked Questions About Bequia Where is Bequia? Bequia is the second-largest island in the Grenadines and forms part of the Caribbean nation of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines. It lies about nine miles south of St Vincent and is known for its relaxed atmosphere, beautiful beaches and sailing culture. How do you get to Bequia? Most visitors either fly into St Vincent before catching a ferry to Port Elizabeth or arrive on a small inter-island aircraft. There are also flights from Barbados on certain routes. Is Bequia worth visiting? Absolutely. Bequia offers a quieter Caribbean experience than many better-known islands. Visitors come for the beaches, sailing, excellent restaurants, friendly locals and wonderfully relaxed pace of life. What is Bequia famous for? Bequia is famous for Friendship Beach, Admiralty Bay, Port Elizabeth, colourful fishing boats, sailing, turtle conservation, traditional boatbuilding and its laid-back Caribbean atmosphere. How many days should you spend on Bequia? Three to five days allows enough time to enjoy the beaches, explore the island, visit Port Elizabeth, take a boat trip and simply slow down into the island's easy-going rhythm. What is the best beach on Bequia? Many visitors consider Friendship Beach to be the island's finest, with soft sand, calm turquoise water and very few crowds. Princess Margaret Beach and Lower Bay are also popular choices. Is Bequia expensive? Accommodation ranges from luxury hotels to guesthouses and self-catering apartments. While some resorts are exclusive, eating in local restaurants and travelling by the island's pick-up taxis makes Bequia surprisingly affordable. When is the best time to visit Bequia? The dry season between December and May generally offers warm sunshine, lower humidity and ideal conditions for sailing, swimming and exploring the island. See more of our Caribbean posts by clicking here

Ask around about the UAE, and most people picture the same thing: glass towers, packed malls, maybe that fountain show everyone's seen a clip of somewhere. Fair enough, that's the image the postcards sell. But leave the city behind the wheel of a car, and a completely different country opens up. Dunes turn gold, then orange, then almost pink depending on the hour. Mountain roads climb into air that actually feels cool. Roadside cooks are still turning out food the same way their parents and grandparents did. Leaving the City Behind Twenty minutes past the last mall, Dubai's towers shrink in the rearview mirror and scrub brush takes over the roadside. A good number of drivers look into Dubai car rentals before setting off, mostly because a city sedan struggles once the pavement gives way to looser sand near Al Ain. Where the Dunes Take Over Drive toward Al Qudra, or carry on to Liwa, and the city soon feels a long way off. There’s sand as far as the eye can see, looking almost yellow in the midday sun before taking on warmer shades toward evening. A regular rental car can struggle once the sand gets soft. That's where a four-wheel-drive vehicle really earns its keep, especially once the road turns to loose sand underfoot. But it's not the sand itself that sticks with you most. No horns, no engines idling nearby, just wind pushing sand across itself. Camels show up here and there, completely unfazed by traffic. Source: Pexels.com A Mountain Detour A few hours down the road, the Hajar Mountains come into view. Hatta’s roads climb and twist, with the flat desert giving way to jagged rock almost before you know it. Weekend crowds pour in from the coast, chasing cooler air. Wadis snake between the hills, holding pockets of clear water long after a good rain has passed through. Trails wind past old stone villages, some centuries old, standing long after the roads that replaced footpaths were built. Summer visitors notice the difference most, since the desert floor can feel brutal by comparison. What's on the Plate Nothing captures the UAE quite like the food does, and this stretch of road delivers plenty of it. Small diners and roadside stalls serve meals that have barely changed in generations, and stopping for them adds something a highway view alone can't. Worth trying along the way: Machboos – spiced rice served with tender chicken or lamb, a staple at most family tables Luqaimat – small fried dumplings soaked in date syrup, usually saved for dessert Shawarma – available at nearly every stop, wrapped fresh and eaten walking Karak tea – strong, sweet, and heavily spiced, practically fuel for anyone driving this route These aren't dishes dressed up for tourists passing through. Families have cooked them the same way for years, road trip or not. Good to Know Before You Go A bit of planning saves a lot of hassle here. The distances can look pretty harmless on a map, then feel a lot longer once you’re behind the wheel. The heat doesn’t stay the same once the road starts climbing. Top off the tank before leaving the city. Fill up before leaving the city, since gas stations get sparse fast once past the outskirts Consider a car rental service built for both sand and mountain terrain Bring extra water, especially during hotter months Watch for flash flooding around Hatta after rain, since wadis can rise quickly Shop around a bit and find a car rental service in Dubai or Abu Dhabi that actually covers desert driving Skip those basics, and the drive can be a lot more stressful than it needs to be. One Drive, Three Different Worlds By the time the last plate's cleared away, the dunes and the mountains stop feeling like separate stops on a checklist. They blend into one drive, one story. City turns to desert, desert climbs into peaks, and the food threads through all of it. Not many places pack this kind of range into a single day behind the wheel. That's probably the real reason the UAE keeps pulling people back. Not many places offer this much range in a single day of driving, which explains why the UAE keeps pulling people back. Landmarks aren't really the point. The real draw is watching everything change outside the window, one stretch of road at a time.

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. Muscat has changed considerably since my visit, but the things that made it memorable to me remain central to the city: the mountains and sea, the old souks, Omani craftsmanship and a remarkably strong sense of place. Today, official Oman tourism continues to promote Muscat as a gateway to the country's culture, coastline and mountains, with attractions ranging from Muttrah Souq and the Royal Opera House to boat trips and excursions into the surrounding landscape. Check out another of our posts on Oman here 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 The Muscat Festival was a huge annual event – and one year I was among the visitors. 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. The Architectural Grandeur of the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque 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. See our post on Salalah in Oman here Wandering Through the Scented Aisles of Muttrah Souk 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. Check out our post on a lonely fishing port in Oman here Maritime Heritage along the Corniche and Beyond 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. See our post on the mountains of Oman here Frequently Asked Questions About Visiting Muscat What makes Muscat different from other cities in the Gulf? Unlike neighboring regional capitals that have embraced ultra-modern glass skyscrapers, Muscat strictly preserves its historic identity. By law, modern buildings must feature traditional architectural elements, such as domes or arabesque windows, and cannot exceed a specific height. This maintains a beautiful, low-rise skyline that blends seamlessly into the surrounding mountains. Can non-Muslims visit the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque? Yes. The Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque welcomes non-Muslim visitors every morning from Saturday to Thursday (typically between 8:00 am and 11:00 am). Visitors must dress respectfully, ensuring that shoulders and knees are covered. Women are also required to fully cover their hair with a scarf before entering the prayer halls. What are the must-buy traditional items in Muttrah Souk? Muttrah Souk is famous for its authentic Omani goods. The most popular items to purchase include high-quality frankincense resin and specialized burners, traditional Omani silver jewellery, beautifully embroidered kuma (traditional men's caps), and authentic Omani halwa—a sweet, gelatinous delicacy flavoured with saffron, rosewater, and cardamom.

While I was staying at the amazing Italian Hospitality Collection hotels in Tuscany we spent a day in Lucca - and wonderful Sunday morning it turned out to be. Lucca is one of those Italian cities where simply wandering around is part of the pleasure. Its great Renaissance walls completely encircle the historic centre, and the broad, tree-lined promenade makes them an unusually enjoyable way to see the city. On our visit we explored by bicycle before heading into the old streets and piazzas. See another of our posts about Tuscany here We have more posts about Tuscany - check out our article on Grotto Giusti We hired a couple of those bicycle-cars and pedalled around the old city walls - which was hard work but fun. Lucca, on the Serchio river, is renowned for those Renaissance walls - they are very well preserved and encircle the entire historic part of the city - and it’s hardly surprising the broad, tree-lined pathways along the tops of these massive 16th- and 17th-century ramparts are popular for strolling and cycling. See our post all about the food of Tuscany here Walk inside the old town and you cannot fail to be chaired by its cobblestone streets. There are a number of public squares, most notably the Piazza dell'Anfiteatro, site of ancient Roman amphitheatre. We also enjoyed strolling through Piazzale Verdi; Piazza Napoleone'; and Piazza San Michele and passing Casa di Puccini, where the great opera composer was born, now a museum.

Salalah, in southern Oman, is one of the strangest places I have ever visited. In a country better known for desert landscapes, the Dhofar region can suddenly turn green and misty during the annual Khareef monsoon, producing waterfalls, rushing streams and cloud-covered mountains just a short drive from the Arabian Sea. When I visited, I discovered a landscape that seemed almost impossible: part Oman, part Exmoor or Dartmoor, and part something entirely its own. It might be hard to believe, but the two photos above were taken within 20 miles of one another. So were these two images… Desert landscape near Salalah in southern Oman Wadi Darbat in Salalah, Oman, with green trees and flowing water And two more contrasting scenes… The country is Oman. Southern Oman, just inland of the port city of Salalah way down near the Yemeni border - and the words below were part of an travel article I wrote after touring the area a few years ago. Read about the extraordinary Salalah coastline by clicking here Villagers taking lunch in a green valley of the Dhofar region of southern Oman Real travel - the kind of travel that smacks of adventure - is about intrigue. If the promise of whatever it is that lies over the hill or around the corner doesn’t intrigue you, then you may as well stay at home. But it’s a big wide world, so the amount of intrigue you feel concerning a certain place will depend on some hook, promise or hint that’s come your way. And so it was with me a long time ago when someone said: “There’s a place in Southern Oman that looks like Exmoor or Dartmoor. It is full of bracken covered slopes, big trees and fast flowing rivers - and yet it’s only a few miles from the desert.” Over the years more hints and clues about Salalah came my way culminating in a visit to Oman 18 months ago ashen local guides in the Akhdar Mountains told me that it was where they went on holiday whenever the chance came their way. See another of our posts on the freshwater springs of the Dhofar region here A visitor attraction - a mountain spring in the the Dhofar region of southern Oman “You must go to Salalah,” they said. “If you like Oman and think it’s beautiful, then the Dhofar region will please you very much.” Back then I wrote in these pages that the wild and wonderful sultanate was all and more that a traveller could ever imagine the Arabic Middle East to be. Much if it is stunningly beautiful. The scenery can be awesome and dramatic. And the people are fantastically friendly. A recent visit to Salalah and a tour around the Dhofar region did not disappoint. And it really does have green, waterfall-filled valleys that will remind West Country folk of Exmoor or Dartmoor. Which is strange, Really, really, strange. Because to reach them you must drive up into the mountains from a fairly arid coastal plain. After 20 minutes you begin to think the whole promise of verdant landscapes must be some kind of illusion like a desert oasis. And then you turn the corner into a valley called Wadi Darbat and you know it’s no illusion. There was so much cool clear fast flowing water in one stream in that valley when I was there at the end of September, people were plying up and down under the tall green trees in small electric-powered boats. And yet I was to learn that just 20 miles away there was real empty sandy desert. That’s kind of shocking. So shocking that visitors pour here from all over the Gulf region. People think nothing of driving 2000 miles, just to come and see the greenery. I learned this when I asked our guide - the wonderful Mussalam whose services you must ask for if you ever go to this land of illusions - why the dead-end road leading into Wadi Darbat was so massive and wide. “If you’d been here three weeks ago, you wouldn’t have been able to move,” he replied. “People drive here from as far away as Iraq and Kuwait, just to see the greenery. If you spend you life living in a desert country, it is something special.” Indeed it is. But then, the entire Salalah area is something special. And that is because it has a unique microclimate which has something to do with those coastal mountains and vast tall cliffs - sometimes called “cloud cliffs” which lock the ocean moisture in down on the coastal plain. I took a long long trip up to the top of these cloud cliffs as you can see below - there were moments when you felt you cold just step out onto the tops of the cloud, so thick were they - but you’d have fallen a straight and terribly vertical 2000 feet if you had… See our post on the Akhdar Mountains of Oman here Travel writer Martin Hesp in the misty mountains above Salalah during the Khareef monsoon What has happened to Salalah since I visited? When I visited Salalah, I had the feeling that I was discovering somewhere that was about to become much better known. It seemed extraordinary that a place with such a bizarrely green landscape, waterfalls, misty mountains, desert, beaches and ancient frankincense history was still relatively unfamiliar to many British travellers. A decade or so on, that prediction looks rather less fanciful. Salalah and the wider Dhofar region are now being promoted much more actively as a tourism destination, not just during the famous Khareef monsoon but throughout the year. The official Omani tourism authorities describe Dhofar as a year-round destination, with three distinct seasons offering quite different experiences. During Khareef, normally from late June into September, the mountains and plains become green and misty; after the rains, the landscape remains green for a while before the drier seasons return. And the numbers show just how much interest has grown. During the 2025 Khareef season, more than 1.07 million people visited Dhofar, while visitor spending reached about RO125 million. By 15 August 2026, the number of visitors during that year's Khareef had already reached 881,424, 6.6 per cent higher than during the equivalent period of 2025. That doesn't mean Salalah has become another Dubai or Muscat — and I hope it never does. What makes the place so unusual is precisely the extraordinary contrast between its landscapes. The official tourism description still reads almost like the place I remember: mountains, green valleys, desert, beaches and the ancient frankincense country all packed into one region. There are signs, though, of a much more ambitious tourism future. Dhofar is now attracting investment in ecotourism and nature-based projects as well as conventional hotels and urban development. One current proposal, the Botanical Memory Garden at Razat Plain, is intended to combine conservation of rare and endangered Omani plants with scientific research, education and ecotourism. So perhaps my old prediction was right after all. Salalah was never really a conventional holiday destination waiting to be discovered. Its appeal lies in the fact that it feels like several completely different countries have somehow collided in one corner of southern Oman. And that, more than anything, is why I still remember it as one of the strangest places I have ever visited. The strange seasonal weather system really has more to do with the moody monsoons of the Indian Ocean than cliffs. The locals even have a word - and a festival - to celebrate this season which hits the coastal zone between the end of June and the beginning of September: it is called the Khareef. During that time the area is often blanketed in thick fogs - it even rains - which for anyone living in the Gulf area is an meteorological enigma of almost mythical proportions. And so they flock to Salalah from all over the place to soak up the fog and feel the sensation of rain - to the extent that the handful of top-quality hotels are booked years in advance. I’m not for a minute suggesting that anyone from the foggy wet UK travels 1000s of miles east to witness and bit of precipitation - that would be the ultimate in the travel industry selling-coals-to-Newcastle. But go there in September or October when the Arab crowds have gone, and you will not only see extraordinary landscapes but you will also have the place more-or-less to yourselves. Wadi Darbat in Salalah, Oman, with green trees and flowing water Which is worth mentioning because I do not think Salalah will be like that for long. Apart from in the Khareef season, mass tours of the kind known and enjoyed by Europeans is just about unknown. I say “just about” because the Germans have just begun catching on to the fact that this is a special place - and at the moment there’s one direct charter flight a week flying in from Frankfurt. But there will soon be more, that is certain - because Salalah’s tiny regional airport is about to be superseded by a massive terminal larger than our Stansted. My bet is that within half a dozen years this little known area will become yet another winter sunshine destination printed in the fat brochures of the massive package holiday giants. Outside of the Khareef months you are guaranteed wall-to-wall sunny days and heat - and there are already a handful of very good hotels dotted along the miles and miles of empty ocean front, and due to be more. Frequently Asked Questions about Salalah, Oman Why is Salalah so green when most of Oman is desert? Salalah lies in Dhofar, in the far south of Oman, where the annual Khareef monsoon transforms the landscape between roughly June and September. Moisture from the Arabian Sea brings mist, drizzle and cloud to the Dhofar mountains, turning normally dry valleys and hillsides remarkably green. It is this extraordinary seasonal change that makes Salalah so different from much of the rest of Oman. What is the Khareef season in Salalah? Khareef is the name given to the southwest monsoon that reaches Dhofar during the summer. It normally runs from around June until September, although the exact timing varies. During the season, temperatures are relatively mild, the mountains become covered in vegetation and waterfalls and streams appear in places that are dry for much of the year. It is also the busiest period for tourism in Salalah. Is Salalah worth visiting outside the Khareef season? Yes. Although the green landscape of Khareef is Salalah's great attraction, Dhofar is increasingly promoted as a year-round destination. Outside the monsoon season there is usually much less greenery and mist, but visitors can enjoy the beaches, wadis, desert landscapes, frankincense heritage and archaeological sites in very different conditions. For anyone wanting to see Salalah at its strangest and greenest, however, Khareef is the season to choose. What are the best places to see the green landscape around Salalah? The Dhofar mountains and their wadis are the places to explore during Khareef. Wadi Darbat is particularly well known for its greenery, streams, waterfalls and dramatic mountain scenery. The road into the mountains also provides some extraordinary viewpoints over the coastal plain. Conditions can vary considerably from year to year, though, so photographs of spectacular waterfalls should not be taken as a guarantee of what you will find on a particular visit. Is Salalah a good place to experience Oman's frankincense heritage? Absolutely. Dhofar is the historic heartland of frankincense, and the resin from the region's frankincense trees was once one of the most valuable commodities in the ancient world. The area's frankincense heritage is recognised by UNESCO through the Land of Frankincense World Heritage property, which includes archaeological sites and landscapes associated with the ancient trade. Is Salalah very different from the rest of Oman? It can feel like another country altogether. The mountains around Salalah can be green and shrouded in mist during Khareef, while the surrounding region includes long beaches, wadis, coconut palms, frankincense trees and vast areas of desert. That extraordinary contrast is what first made Salalah seem so strange to me — and why, even after all these years, it remains one of the most memorable places I have visited in the Middle East.