Exmoor

Exmoor - the heather-covered country of Lorna Doone, wild ponies, and Porlock hill...

In my opinion, Exmoor has it all - forest covered hills, rolling green fields, beech woods, moors,  heather, wild ponies, roaming sheep (not to mention the occasional highland cattle), cliffs, beaches, and stunning seascapes. Who could ask for more?

I have never enjoyed swimming in swimming pools (and have besides, a fear of being out of my depth), but one of the joys of my life is paddling - sometimes amounting to wading, if there's been a lot of rain - in the icy streams of Exmoor. Everything about it, from the bone-cracking cold, to the balancing act of finding a secure footing on the stony bottom, to the purity of the water itself, lends it an interest and mild excitement simply lacking in the sterile atmosphere of a man-made pool.
As to the bone-cracking iciness - I don't know why it is, but the streams down there do seem to be particularly cold. I went paddling in the streams in Yorkshire a couple of years ago, at the same time of year, and they were positively warm; well, perhaps not actually warm, but certainly mild compared to the invigorating coldness of those on Exmoor...

I asked my parents which town they would rather live in if they had the opportunity: Lynton - at the top of the cliff, or Lynmouth - at the bottom. My father chose Lynton, as he said he would always prefer to be high up than low down. My mother, on the other hand, said she'd rather live in Lynmouth, in order to be as near the sea as possible.

Cliff-top view over Lynmouth bay.

After taking a walk along a cliff path looking out over Lynmouth bay, with the heather-covered slope tumbling straight down beside me into the water, and the late-afternoon sun reflecting off the silvery sea, I decided with my father. Living down in a valley all the time would make me claustrophobic; let me glory in the heights, and gaze down on nature's splendour from above!