Helen Werin is blown away – well, almost - by the beauty of North Devon.

My super-fit daughter Elena had torn up the steep hairpin path that links Lynmouth to Lynton in less than a third of the time it would take most people.

What she’d failed to appreciate in her great haste to get to the top a few minutes after us was a taste of what we’d come to North Devon for; some of the most spectacular coastal scenery in Britain.

We’d taken the easy route from Lynmouth, 500ft below, in the Victorian water-powered Cliff Railway. This gave us the chance to appreciate the glorious vistas from a rather novel perspective.

The Victorians, who turned these ‘twin’ towns into popular holiday resorts, called this place Little Switzerland. Prior to the railway being built, I should imagine our ancestors certainly did feel as if they were climbing a mountain as they struggled up the cliff path, albeit on some poor pack animal.

Times might have changed, but the diverse beauty of this area hasn’t, as we discovered from our base at the Camping and Caravanning Club’s site at Caffyn’s Cross, near Lynton. From here we could explore the golden sand beaches dotted between some of the highest cliffs in Britain, wander through the wooded valleys and across the wild heaths of Exmoor and meander through postcard-pretty villages.

The tourist brochure had proclaimed “there are few places in Britain that lay claim to such a beautiful combination of stunning landscapes ...enough to keep you here forever”.

That was almost the case as I rounded the top of Lantern Hill above Ilfracombe’s harbour. The steep path winds its way up to the summit, on which St Nicolas’ chapel, now a visitors’ centre, is rather precariously perched. Right at the spot where the path is at its’ narrowest I was suddenly blown off my feet by an immensely powerful gust of wind. But for the lightning reaction of my husband, Robin, I would surely have been whisked on to the roof of the lifeboat station below.

Scary stuff, certainly, but something the 13 members of the Davie family, who lived in the tiny house here in the mid 19^th century maintaining the light, would have had to endure on a daily basis. They would undoubtedly have been far less delicate than the prim Victorians who chose to bathe at the Tunnels Beaches just around the corner.

The sand at these beaches is unappealing; coarse and dark from the massive slate cliffs looming over the coves. What must have lured the ultra modest Victorians here was the sheltered nature of this series of small coves, each separated from the last - and from the opposite sex - by tunnels. The coves are still home to large pools which trap the sea water for hours after low tide.

Tunnels beaches are rated as among the best in the country for rock pools, a view my youngest daughter Sophie would eagerly agree with. For me, by far the most interesting aspect of the Tunnels Beaches was reading the newspaper articles displayed along the walls. These provided an amusing insight into Victorian etiquette with hilarious advice on ‘leaving corsets at home’ when rowing. Gentleman, naturally, had to take ‘great care’ not to splash the ladies and ‘cause them fright’.

Then there was the story of the young woman who “Preferred to peril her person to spending her pence” by eschewing the help of bathing attendants who would have helped her in and out of the water. Fortunately a man, who probably should have been averting his eyes, eventually came to her rescue.

The perils of the water and the weather are brought much closer to home with the poignant and graphic exhibition in Lynmouth’s Memorial Hall of the terrible floods in August 1952 which claimed more than 30 lives and destroyed 60 buildings. Water flowed off Exmoor after torrential rain, turning the East and West Lyn rivers into a raging torrent which swept 8,000 tons of boulders and 114,000 tons of debris through Lynmouth. Dramatic photographs of the morning after the night before and compelling newspaper accounts of the tragedy are shown alongside a model of the village, since rebuilt, before the flood.

Indeed, as a lesson in just how powerful the weather in coastal North Devon can be, 60mph winds rocked our camp site, driving water in to our motorhome. Linda Turner, the holiday site manager, told us that five tents and seven awnings were lost that day because of the fierce elements.

So it is testament to the immense appeal of the area that, even after losing their tent, one group went home to Oxfordshire, bought a new one and came back next day. They were soon joined by others, who had decamped on Linda’s advice to bed and breakfast accommodation.

It’s not difficult to understand why. Whether we were standing in torrential rain at Watersmeet, just outside Lynton, where the Hoar Oak Water and the East Lyn rivers do just that in a spectacular torrent among pretty woodland; or sitting at the edge of the Valley of the Rocks to admire the glorious sunset whilst dozens of goats skipped around us, we were captivated too. North Devon can be exciting, tranquil, challenging or relaxing all at once. But never, for a moment, dull.

WHERE WE STAYED

Camping and Caravanning Club site, Caffyn’s Cross, near Lynton. www.siteseeker.co.uk

FACT FILE

www.northdevon.com
www.cliffrailwaylynton.co.uk
www.tunnelsbeaches.co.uk