1 More Saffa | Long sandy beaches do exist in England

It was time for a trip. A simple four and half hour journey to what I never knew existed. Some will tell you adamantly that North Devon is home to one of the biggest surf hubs in Europe. With doubt in my mind and the cold winter approaching, I wasn’t finding myself convinced. However, I would very soon eat my words with satisfactory delight.

Braunton is a small countryside village, surrounded by hills speckled with livestock and a feeling of beauty in simplicity. There is one main street that lends itself to numerous surf shops and cars that religiously wear surf boards on their roof racks. Although on arrival, it was cold and raining, the town streets buzzed with the excitement of tide changes and possible swells and of course, the retired pub owners 60th that evening. I was taken on a tour of the town. The passion with which I was shown every spot that had a story and each pub that adopted its frequenters; was enticing. Before I decided we would settle into Braunton for the night, I needed to see the sea and the neighbouring villages.

The rolling hills of Braunton

Two minutes out of Braunton, you are taken along a steep and narrow road along the coast before being welcomed into Saunton (and yes the rhyming convenience makes you smile!). The Saunton Sands Hotel is a proud onlooker of the most beautiful stretch of beach. It is breathtaking. It reminded me instantly of Noordhoek beach (Cape Town) where kilometres of soft sand and rolling waves ignites the childhood memory of sandcastles and crab hunting.

Continuing on the road, you then come across Croyde. A beautiful little seaside village with a bay that is renound for more experienced surfers and a parking lot housing caravans and avid campers. The Thatch is Croyde’s best freehouse (and this was the first time I has learnt that a freehouse is a pub! And no, not free drinks). Walking through the doors, there was Halloween paraphernalia everywhere; suggesting significant celebrations would be happening in Devon that night. Breakfast was served all day and in true pub style, I went for the fried eggs and baked beans. Being not a hundred percent sure why I selected this option as I have no appreciation for the unappealing look and taste of beans in tomato sauce, it was still delicious.

Saunton Sands Beach

The Thatch – Croyde

Country style bathrooms at the The Thatch

 The rest of the day was spent exploring further. Woolacombe (another fun name to say) is another beautiful beach where we sat ourselves at the bar stools of the Red Barn. Packed with half term holiday makers, one could not ignore the structure of the ceiling and its arches, which were dressed with story held surf boards. Deciding it would be good to find somewhere to stay, we made our way back to Braunton. The sheer joy of the countryside and the fact that food and drinks are so much cheaper than London, set us on a prosecco thirst quench and bar snack hunt.

Thankfully, killing two birds with one stone, we used the wonder of Google and found a BnB that wasn’t completely booked. Thankful to the wifi in the pubs as the country doesn’t seem to believe in cell signal, Sunset Heights was a beautiful home owned by quirky Steven and Janet. Steve, looking like a diehard surfer with not a worry in the world, and Janet, greeting us in her slippers, led us into the room. It was cosy, comfortable and the immediate offering of a full English breakfast the next morning and ‘post it’ notes left along the way was all you could ask for.

The Red Barn – Woolacombe

Beautiful surf architecture inside the Red Barn

Woolacombe beach

 The next day started perfectly with the additional hour of sleep acquired through the clock changes. Making our way to Georgeham and more neighbouring villages, the weather forecast, with threats of hurricane winds and rain, didn’t seem to discourage country life. Surfers still threw themselves into the sea, and with each increase in the gust of wind, more and more people ventured out with dogs and prams in tow; to see the effect of the weather on the horizon. We decided to stop in at Ilfracombe — to really see this port side village housing ‘football hooligans’.

Despite the rough nature of the people walking the streets; Ilfracombe is picturesque, clean and exciting. The flag point at the top of the bay’s edge was a climb to be done. However, I never knew that it would be that point that the torrential rain would hit. Standing proudly at the top, looking to the cliffs of the English coast, the rain suddenly hit us at a 90 degree angle; leaving no possibility of cover, warmth or dry clothing. For some reason, the exhilaration of not being blown off a hill and becoming more and more drenched, was exciting. The only six people at the flag point all raced down the hill in hysterics at nature’s sense of humour. And then, what better way than to dry off at the bottom, with a perfectly warmed scone with Devon clotted cream at Dolly’s cafe.

The port in Ilfracombe

Fighting the winds on Ilfracombe hilltops

The weekend by the sea was finished off with a carvery buffet special at The Williams Arms. While the wind and rain heaved down outside, thousands of locals poured into the pub and gorged on roast turkey, pork, cauliflower cheese and Yorkshire pudding –  why not feed yourself up for the fantasy fear of being flooded and bound in a pub.

 The English coast is beautiful and has proved to be far more than my naive inexperienced mind had presumed it to be. It is not made up of stoned beaches and wasted seaside — but is rather a quirky, village ridden haven of beautiful coast and pure simplicity.