by Richard Hammond I'd like to pay tribute to Roger Diski, ethical travel entrepreneur, who died recently. When I first started out writing about sustainable tourism over a decade ago, Roger provided invaluable information about grass roots community tourism, and when I subsequently began researching for a book on the subject, Roger was the first person I turned to. In 2007, when he was made Chair of the Sustainable Tourism Committee of the Association of Independent Tour Operators, he invited me to become their advisor, which I accepted with honour. Roger was also a supporter of Green Traveller and over the last few years, he'd meet me every few months to give me advice over a pint. Roger was an extraordinary person. Many people who knew him might not have known just how much he had done in his life. I have written an obituary of Roger in today's Times, page 51 (commissioned by Kate Quill). Those who have subscription to Timesonline can also view it on the website of The Times. There is also an extensive obituary for Roger in the Guardian, expertly written by the Guardian's deputy editor Kath Viner, who recently travelled with Roger in Rwanda. There is also an obituary for Roger in The Independent. I had huge respect for Roger. He was a decent, energetic, forthright, no-nonsense person who had a brilliant sense of humour. As Kath Viner wrote: "Beneath a shambolic, laidback appearance, he was a man who got things done". He was a neighbour of mine and a friend. I, like a great many other journalists, tour operators, and other colleagues in the industry, will miss him dearly.

Catherine Mack takes the sleeper train from London to Penzance with a friend Devon and Cornwall are home to some of the UK's most exciting green places to stay, but it can take rather a long time to reach the area on the train. London Paddington to Penzance, for example, takes best part of six hours, which can make a big hole in your holiday if you're only going for a few days. First Great Western's Night Riviera service is a great solution - by sleeping on the train you arrive in Devon or Cornwall first thing in the morning, with the full day ahead of you, and it can be cheaper than a night's accommodation. It's also a really useful service if you want to connect with the ferry to the Scilly Isles (the sleeper arrives in to Penzance at 8am just enough time to wipe the sleep from your eyes, grab a Cornish Pasty and head over to the ferry terminal to check in for the 9.15am crossing to St Mary's - the main island on the Scillys). Timings The sleeper train runs every night except Saturday, leaving Paddington at 23:45 and arriving in Penzance at 08:00. You don't have to start at Paddington - you could join at Reading at 00:37 and still get a decent sleep. There are 15 stops along the way, but stops in the middle of the night are kept to a minimum. The following morning, you could jump off at St Austell for the Eden Project or St Erth for St Ives. For the return journey, the Night Riviera leaves Penzance at 21:45, and arrives back into Paddington at 05:43. Sleeping The Night Riviera has carriages of standard and first class seating, and at least four carriages of special sleeper berths. Plenty of passengers get some shut-eye in a normal train seat but if you like to be horizontal to sleep - and to have the privacy of a lockable cabin - a prebookable sleeper berth is a good idea. There are beds for 60 customers on most services, and up to 75 on the two busiest services. Single-person sleeper berths cost from £45, while a twin berth costs from £69 between you.You can book 12 weeks in advance and this is when you'll get the best prices. Single and twin berths both have a sink in them, and in a single berth you even get an entertainment system preloaded with TV programmes (take your own headphones otherwise they cost £2.50). Included in both fares are complimentary refreshments from the train's Lounge car, breakfast served in your berth, and use of the First Class lounge and showers at Paddington station when you arrive there. My journey Travelling back from Cornwall to London, I shared a twin berth with my friend. I was welcomed onboard by our cheerful 'customer host', who explained where all the light and temperature controls where. The berth was compact, especially with our huge rucksacks in the way, but we could still just about manage to move around. I was impressed by the thoughtful amenity kit with toothbrush and toiletries, and bottled water was also supplied. Our host took our breakfast order and asked about wake-up calls before leaving us in peace for the night. If you don't need to leave the train at 05:43, you can stay snoozing on-board at Paddington until 7am, which makes the early arrival less painful. The train does make rather a lot of clunks and groans throughout the night: the amenity kit contains foam ear-plugs but if you're a light sleeper, I've found silicone ones much more effective. I only boarded the Sleeper at Plymouth so had just six hours in the the berth, but surprised myself by getting very comfortable in my bunk-bed, with two pillows and a snuggly tartan blanket. Whoever's on the top bunk need not worry about sliding off the bed - there are thick vertical straps up to the ceiling which would hold you in. In the morning, my wake-up call came dead on time, and I was greeted with a tray of coffee, juice, and bacon sandwich to set me on my way. More Information: The Night Riviera service calls at the following stations between Paddington and Penzance: Reading, Taunton, Exeter St Davids, Newton Abbot, Plymouth, Liskeard, Bodmin Parkway, Lostwithiel, Par, St Austell, Truro, Redruth, Cambourne, Hayle, and St Erth. Standard seats on the sleeper service start from as little as £15. For fares, timetable and to book tickets: Train Tickets from London to Penzance.

In celebration of Dorset's artistic inspirations, Harriet O'Brien, the author of our Guide to Dorset's Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, provides a history of Dorset’s creativity. From its captivating villages looking cosy under thatch to its spectacularly weathered and craggy stretches of coast, Dorset has for centuries been a huge inspiration to writers and artists. Most famously, of course, Thomas Hardy’s novels and poems exude a tremendous sense of place. In The Return of the Native (1878) fictional Egdon Heath is a primeval, brooding presence that in reality was an imaginatively enlarged version of Black Heath adjacent to the author’s birthplace at Higher Bockhampton. In the Woodlanders (1887) Little Hintock and surrounds are based on Minterne Magna and its outlying groves and coppices, in the very heart of the county. While Tess of the D’Urbervilles (1891) opens with a lyrical evocation of northern Dorset’s Vale of Blackmore, ‘an engirdled and secluded region’ protected by hills and ‘tinged with azure’. The gloriously varied range of other authors and poets stirred by Dorset’s scenery include William and Dorothy Wordsworth who, in the 1790s, spent two years living at Racedown House in the shadow of west Dorset’s Pilsdon Pen hill fort. A couple of decades later Jane Austen’s Persuasion was posthumously published (1817). It features the author’s most dramatic scene, which takes place in Lyme Regis on the Cobb, the town’s old harbour wall. The Cobb was also an iconic element in John Fowles’ 1969 novel The French Lieutenant’s Woman – and in the 1981 film of the book. Elsewhere Dorset was seminal for the poet William Barnes (1801-1886); T E Lawrence (aka Lawrence of Arabia, 1888-1935) who lived, and wrote, near Wareham; John Meade Falkner (1858-1932) whose smugglers’ tale Moonfleet is set in the real village of that name; Enid Blyton (1897-1968) who took her family on holiday to the Dorset coast in the 1930s, 40s and 50s – and based Toytown on Studland; Ian McEwan whose 2007 novel On Chesil Beach was shortlisted for the Booker Prize - and so the list goes on. Meantime the impact of Dorset’s landscape on artists has been profound – and this was the focus of a great celebration orchestrated by the Dorset AONB in first half of 2014. Drawing Inspiration was a programme of exhibitions, talks and events about Dorset’s outstanding scenery and its significance for artists. It paid homage to an impressive variety of painters, printmakers, etchers and more from Turner in the 18th/19th century to Elizabeth Armsden who worked in and around Studland in the mid 1900s. As part of the celebration nine walking trails were devised taking in views and sights that artists have painted over the centuries and these can be downloaded (free) from the website of the Dorset AONB. The walks include a circular route from Worth Matravers featuring the downs painted by Charles Rennie Mackintosh (c. 1920) and the coast at Winspit that inspired Percival Arthur Wise in the mid 1900s; while in the far west a three-mile round trail from Lambert’s Hill includes Fishpond, painted by Lucien Pissarro in 1915. Works of Dorset artists can of course be seen in the county’s museums. Dorset County Museum in Dorchester contains a remarkable collection of several thousand watercolours by Henry Joseph Moule (1825-1904), the first curator of the museum and a friend of Thomas Hardy. Other Dorset artists shown here include Sir James Thornhill (1675-1734) and the sculptor Elisabeth Frink (1930-1993). Meanwhile Bournemouth’s Russell Cotes gallery includes paintings by Philip Leslie Moffat Ward (1888-1978), and at Poole Museum you’ll see works by Arthur Hanson Knight and Eustace Nash, working in the early 20th century. It almost goes without saying that Dorset continues to attract and inspire artists. Beautifully set in a 17th-century building in Corfe Castle village, Gallery at 41 is dedicated to showing the works of Dorset painters, potters and jewellery makers – the likes of landscape artists David Atkins and Vicky Finding. Or head to Bridport’s West Bay where Sladers Yard is housed in an 18th-century rope warehouse. This makes a terrific setting for the British art and furniture that the gallery showcases, including paintings by Dorset artists Boo Mallinson and Brian Graham. Other Dorset galleries include Quarr Gallery in Swanage and the thriving Bridport Arts Centre with its lively programme of performance art as well as exhibitions. For a great synthesis of landscape, poetry and art take a hike along the Wessex Ridgeway. Dorset poet James Crowden walked this route and composed works inspired by his journey. These verses were then integrated into sculptures that are now dotted along the way. But unless you want to take on the entire 62 miles of the trail you’ll need to be selective about your trip: the sculptures are at Ashmore, Ringmoor, Melcombe Horsey, Minterne Parva, Maiden Newton, the Kingcombe Centre, Beaminster, Pilsdon Pen and Lyme Regis. Of course there is much else to see – and do. Favourites for families include The Smuggler’s Trail on Stonebarrow Hill near the Golden Cap. It’s a walk of about a mile during which you can take brass rubbings from special posts and listen to a smuggler’s tale (freely downloadable from the website above). Meantime every two years in September Dorset and its landscape are celebrated in a great outdoor arts festival. Inside Out Dorset stages its events in inspiring Dorset locations and in 2014 one of its most spectacular shows will be along part of the South Dorset Ridgeway. >> For more information (and inspiration!): www.dorsetaonb.org.uk/our-work/drawing-inspiration Words by Harriet O'Brien

As we launch our Green Traveller's Guide to the Howardian Hills AONB, Paul Miles goes in search of markets and mills in the Howardian Hills Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, and comes across a Gothic eye-catcher of a mill on the River Derwent. “We live up t’hill from t’mill,” says a blue-eyed man drinking a mug of Yorkshire tea in a village hall. As an example of vernacular, at least that parodied by t’ comedians, 78-year old Douglas Horne’s talk is rich. “Aye, every village had its mill,” says the old-timer, taking a break from serving refreshments during Hovingham’s monthly foodie market where artisan bakers and brownie makers sell their wares. “But many people left villages and t’ small mills to work in textile mills in cities,” says Douglas. It was the Luddite riots – burning the machinery – that inspired the now familiar Yorkshire saying: ‘trouble at t’mill’. One mill that has turned trouble into triumph is in Howsham, a village on the River Derwent. As with other villages in the Howardian Hills AONB, its roadside name sign is attached to millstones. It’s a sign of how important mills were in village life in the area. “Your daily bread was dependent on the miller milling the flour,” confirms Liz Vowles, education officer at Howsham Mill, which now generates electricity rather than grinding corn. The beautiful grade II listed building, a fine example of Gothic revival, with graceful ogee curves, quatrefoils and crocketed finials, is finally complete and open to the public after a £800,000 restoration and hundreds of hours of work by volunteers. You may have seen it featured on BBC’s Restoration Village in 2006 when it was a northern region finalist. The 18th-century building, which ten years ago was a roofless ruin with a tree growing out of the middle, stands on a small island in the middle of the river Derwent, once navigable by cargo boats that passed through a series of locks. This mill is unusually ornate as it was a ‘Gothick eye-catcher’, an important feature in the Capability Brown-designed landscaped grounds of nearby Howsham Hall, to which it belonged. It wasn’t built just to be pretty though; the mill produced all the flour for bread and cakes eaten by the Cholmley family and their servants. “They used French blue stones that made fine white flour, a status symbol,” explains Liz. The mill last ground corn in the 1940s and the number of people who remember it is dwindling. “A local man, Albert Fox, who used to deliver grain to the mill by horse and cart has talked to us for a video clip for our website,” says Liz. “It was very emotional. He came here with his family to show them the restoration. He talked about unloading huge sacks of grain and how it was difficult to turn the cart around in the small space,” she says. Now the mill itself has been turned around. Instead of producing flour, it generates electricity. You can stand on a glass floor and watch as water gushes from the mill race at 2,000 litres per minute and sets the massive steel wheel spinning, generating up to 11kw of power. Outside an Archimedean screw turbine – the first to be installed in the UK - also harnesses the power of water from the weir and directs it into the national grid. Together the two hydro-systems can provide all the electricity needs of 70 homes and should bring in £35,000 per year in revenue. Howsham mill is proving to be a fine example of the work that can be achieved by the Renewable Heritage Trust, a non-profit organisation that was established to manage this ambitious restoration and adopted as its strapline: “old buildings, new energy.” The mill on its SSSI-listed island is reached via public footpaths over fields from the small road to Howsham village, just three miles from the A64. However, flooding is often a problem in the winter when the mill and its island may be under water and it is not possible to visit. This year – 2013 – marks the completion of the restoration and events are being held in the mill and on the island, such as willow weaving workshops, puppet theatre and a Christmas fair. Otherwise, the mill is locked up when not in use, although private tours can be arranged by appointment. Or just wander around its exterior, the roof surmounted by a graceful steel mesh sculpture of Diana the hunter, as you look out for kingfishers darting along the river and, if you’re very lucky, an otter. On the island, you can uncover fragments of original masonry and remnants of ancient millstones from tendrils of vegetation. There is even a barbecue spot that can be used with care. As you tuck into white burger buns from the supermarket – or even an artisan loaf from a village market - you may like to think back to an age when your daily bread meant a daily grind and you hoped there’d be no trouble at t’mill.

As we launch our Green Traveller's Guide to the Howardian Hills AONB, Paul Miles pays a visit to Castle Howard, a magnificent stately pile in the Howardian Hills Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty in North Yorkshire, and ends the day with a glass of homemade cider at nearby Ampleforth Abbey. “This area’s a bit of a hidden secret,” agrees a friendly holidaymaker in the pretty village of Hovingham, with its little brook, sandstone cottages and red pan-tiled roofs. I’ve only just arrived in this neck of North Yorkshire and already complete strangers are enthusing about the place. It may not the the UK's most well-known protected area, but the Howardian Hills AONB has lots of offer the visitor. Not least Castle Howard, the stately pile made famous by the filming of Brideshead Revisited. I’ve stopped for a break on my 14-mile bike ride from Malton train station to Ampleforth. John, on holiday from Wiltshire with his Yorkshire-born wife and family, sings the praises of the cycling, walking and “the wonderment of the buildings,” before his young grandson pulls him away to fish for minnows in a shallow ford. With sunshine and blue sky, it’s as if the tourist board has directed the scene. The logo for the Howardian Hills AONB, that greets you by roadsides as you enter the 77 square mile Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, is two graceful intersecting lines. These are not hilly hills, it seems to say, just gentle slopes: an enjoyable challenge for cycling but rarely too steep or arduous. The hills never reach higher than about 200m, in the northwestern corner, near Ampleforth, where the AONB borders the North York Moors National Park. This famous neighbour is, possibly, the reason why the AONB remains little-visited, apart from its crowd-drawing stately home that is, most recently, the setting for a new TV drama, a three-part adaptation of PD James’ Death comes to Pemberley. Castle Howard was built by Charles Howard, 3rd earl of Carlisle in the 18th century and is still home to the Howard family. The ornate showpiece – the first house to have a dome, design of which was advised by Sir Christopher Wren – and the grounds, laid out in the early English landscape style, with walled garden, fountains, lakes, follies and monuments, attracts over 200,000 visitors a year. It’s not only the grounds that, to use a word of the era, are ‘sublime’. “This is the most beautiful, typically English view,” says the estate’s forestry manager, Nick Cooke, as he leads me to a belvedere known as the temple of the four winds and shows me a panorama of gentle hills, fields and forests, with barely a house to be seen. “We can afford to ‘under-manage’ the estate because we own the entire 9,000 acre block,” he explains. “Continuous ownership is one of the key factors to how this landscape has stayed the same throughout generations.” He takes me on a drive through aptly named Pretty Wood, following dirt tracks the 3rd earl had cut so he could impress guests on carriage rides through stands of oak and ash enhanced by the occasional pyramid. The present owner, Simon Howard, adopts a less hubristic approach to managing the estate’s 2,000 acres of woodlands, criss-crossed with 50-miles of public rights of way. “We’re replacing conifer plantations with mixed woodland that looks more natural and improves biodiversity,” says Nick. Apart from some invisible environmental innovations, such as a ground-source heat pump for the 145-room house, the buildings and grounds, constantly being renovated, are much the same as they have been for generations. Proposals for a zip-wire from a 100-ft fir tree in Ray Wood, near the house were rejected. “It was thought that people screaming as they whizzed through the air wouldn’t be appropriate,” says Nick as we reach around the fir’s vast trunk, fingertips unable to meet, and decide it’s a three-person-hug. We wander back to the house, past exotic rhododendrons that form the understorey to this colourful – and quiet – woodland garden. I cycle off along the five-mile stretch of tree-lined Roman road that traverses the estate, up and down like a rollercoaster, from obelisk to gated archway to monument. My bed for the night is in more humble surrounds: a single room with shared bathroom in a guesthouse in the grounds of an abbey. The views, however, are priceless: across wonderful sandstone buildings to fields and wooded hills beyond. The order of Benedictine monks has 2,000 acres of land, including lakes and a wildlife reserve. It seems it’s not only the landed gentry who have shaped – and continue to shape - this landscape. Religious orders have done so too: picturesque abbeys, mostly ruined, grace riverbanks and hills. Ampleforth Abbey, with its 20th-century abbey church and private school, is very much alive. The 40 or so monks have the largest commercial orchard in the north of England from which they make cider. You don’t need to be a cider-drinker, Catholic, or even religious, to stay here but if you appreciate serenity and Gregorian chant more than wi-fi and television, it’s a perfect base, at a reasonable price, from which to explore this small AONB. I’m tempted to keep it all a secret but perhaps three nights in a monastic setting has made me more willing to share?

Michael Davies explores the stunning scenery of the Scottish Highlands and Skye, and discovers just how easy it is to reach some of Britain's wild areas by public transport. Like most people, my partner John and I love holidaying - and we always strive to have low carbon holidays where possible. So when we decided to spend a week in Scotland, we chose to take advantage of low carbon travel options. The first part of the trip took us on the overnight sleeper from London Euston, which is admittedly not the most romantic or beautiful of train stations. However, once we were shown to our berth - and ordered a bottle of champagne (a bargain at £19.95) from the buffet car - Euston was but a distant memory. We then spent a very agreeable couple of hours in the buffet car before heading off to our berth for the night: I’m not the world's best sleeper, but, the odd bit of sudden braking aside, I had a surprisingly good night's sleep. >> Book a train ticket to Scotland (with the TheTrainline) A few hours later we were woken with a coffee and croissant by the onboard host, before drawing the blind to see the most amazing view of Scotland's Cairngorm mountains: this was truly the most fantastic way to start a holiday. We arrived into Inverness at nine o'clock, where we caught the connecting train to Kyle of Lochalsh on what I am reliably informed is one of the world’s greatest railway journeys. Whilst I'm no Michael Palin, I can certainly say that I was impressed! Kyle is a useful staging post to catch the Scottish Citylink bus service to Portree, capital of the Isle of Skye, a town which truly is beautiful. We stayed two nights at the Cuillin Hills Hotel – on the edge of Portree - the starting point for some incredible hikes (well, more like walks in our case). There’s also a place to hire bikes in Portree itself. From Portree we travelled back via Kyle of Lochalsh to Inverness where we spent the next two nights. Inverness is famously the gateway to Loch Ness and what better way could there be to go Nessie-spotting but on electric bikes (push bikes may be even better but we were too lazy for that!). We hired our fantastic bikes from Cameron at Happy Tours. Cameron is a fountain of knowledge about all things Inverness (and Nessie) and true to his company name, is a very happy fellow too. The bikes had enough charge to take us to Dores at the tip of Loch Ness and around the gorgeous hills to the south of the Loch. After all that strenuous (or not so strenuous) exercise, we treated ourselves to lunch at Dores Inn - a great pub with roaring fires to warm body and soul. We left the following morning and took the train to Aberdeen, by way of Nairn, a lovely seaside town where we stopped for coffee. After lunch, we continued on to Stonehaven and enjoyed fantastic fish and chips at The Bay, the winner of the Fish & Chip Awards 2013. Everything about The Bay is sustainable - from its sourcing of supplies and its packaging, to use of 100% renewable energy. Most importantly, the chippies are bloomin’ good too! We had planned to stay in Stonehaven, but didn’t realise how popular the area is as an easy to reach destination for the residents of neighbouring Aberdeen, and we ended up catching another train all the way to Glasgow (where we stayed with a friend). The following day we hired an electric car and drove to Loch Lomond and the gorgeous village of Luss. It's worth making the trip to Luss just for the chance to sample the delicious scones in the café in its pretty centre. The day would have been a complete success had the car rental people remembered to put a charging plug in the boot (or if we had remembered to check before heading off), but was enjoyable nonetheless: I guess you can’t win them all... We were both impressed with the powerful, raw beauty of the Scottish Highlands, and the contrasting comfort of the rail network. March was a quiet time for tourists, and so we definitely managed to secure some bargains en route, such as our hotel in Portree. If luck is on your side, and you get a sprinkling of fair weather, anyone can enjoy a low carbon holiday in the Scottish Highlands. If it’s snowing? Well, is there a more beautiful place to be?

As we launch our Green Traveller's Guide to the East Devon AONB, our writer, Paul Miles, heads 200ft below ground in Devon to visit the Beer Quarry Caves, a vast and fascinating labyrinth of centuries-old caverns, some of which date back to the Romans Most visitors to the Jurassic Coast, Britain’s first natural World Heritage Site, rejoice if they find a fossil. However, if you’re a stonemason, a fossil is an annoyance, an imperfection that hinders intricate carving. This is why a seam of white limestone in the Beer area, that is fossil-free, has been prized since Roman times and is now found, elaborately carved, in cathedrals and monuments worldwide. A tour of Beer Quarry Caves is a must when visiting the area. Unlike other underground attractions – think Cheddar caves or Jersey’s war tunnels – there’s no song and dance: no light and sound show, no fancy visitors’ centre, not even a café. There’s something more thrillingly genuine about this low-key approach, where the only touristification of the caves is a string of bare electric light bulbs and a display of some old black and white photos. “It’s quiet here now, all we can hear is the dripping of the water, right?” says guardian and guide, John Scott, as we stand some 200ft below ground in the cool man-made caves, drips echoing. “Well, you imagine, hundreds of men with pick-axes, saws, horses and carts…” and John suddenly whacks a safety helmet against the side of the cave, the loud bang reverberating through the caverns “…all that noise! That’s why we talk about being ‘stone deaf’.” Quarrying was such a part of everyday life, its language has entered our lexicon. You will also learn the origins of the phrase ‘not worth the candle’. There are centuries-old signatures on the walls belonging to quarrymen who hewed blocks of stone. John has discovered intriguing tales linked to these names. Although the accessible area of caves stretches over an area of 100 football fields, this is only a small percentage of what has been dug out over the millennia. John points out some original Roman workings and others from Saxon, Norman and modern times. They are all distinguished by the shape of the archways in the maze of tunnels, where underground roads were once busy with teams of horses and carts. “One team of 26 horses pulled a 24 ton block of stone out of the quarry to Exeter cathedral,” says John. “It took two weeks to get there.” There’s plenty of headroom in the caves and no need to squeeze through any crevices but that’s not to say others don’t do this at times. John points his torch to a pile of quarrying rubble that reaches to the ceiling. “Some volunteers cleared a space above that spoil heap and squeezed over the top and down the other side,” he says. “The air in there had been still for 200 years and in the white stone dust, they found footprints of humans and horses, and wagon tracks that looked as fresh as the day they’d been made,” he says. “They also found the remains of a quarryman’s packed lunch. Scientists identified it as rabbit and cider.” The warren of caves was a perfect hiding place for contraband and the quarrymen, who earned less than farm labourers for their 14-hour days, would also work at nights for the smugglers. As we stand by a signature of a certain “William Cawley, 1st August, 1801” written neatly on a pillar in the caves from where he would have sawn a block of stone that day, John tells a tale of untimely death, smuggling and a cover-up by the church. Smugglers compensated Cawley’s widow for his death. “But her children didn’t see a penny of the money,” says John. “Follow me and I’ll show you what she spent it on, fifty years later.” I won’t spoil the story for you but it brought a tear to my eye. With its rare bats and its echoing warren of seemingly endless caverns, the Beer Quarry Caves is an eerie subterranean space, but it’s the very personal histories diligently researched by John Scott that make it fascinating. With the lack of high tech interactive displays, a visit feels like a real discovery. Don’t be tempted to wander off and explore solo. The last person who did that got well and truly lost. It took a team of 37 people 16 hours to find him.

Paul Miles discovers there's far more to Porthdinllaen, a tiny coastal village on the Llŷn Peninsula, than just fishing and drinking.. “Porthdinllaen: A small drinking village with a fishing problem,” it says, ominously, behind the bar of the Ty Coch Inn, the only pub in this picturesque seaside village of just a dozen or so houses. The pub is crammed with paraphernalia: lamps of all sizes hang from beams and photos line every wall. Some show the crowds that gather in this little east-facing bay on a summer’s day, others show the floods that happened when a storm surge and high tide inundated the village. “What about the fishing?” I ask the landlord, Stuart Webley, tucking into a crab salad before his shift starts in earnest. “They send all their catch to Korea!” he says, between mouthfuls. “There are seven boats that fish from here, all full-time, they probably employ a dozen people between them,” he says. “But they’re mostly fishing for whelks. They catch tonnes of them and ship them all to Korea,” he pauses. “Very rubbery though, whelks, they can have them.” No problem there then. It's worth noting that the fishermen from Porthdinllaen also catch lobsters, and quite delicious they are too. Historically the port was an important harbour for importing and exporting goods and was even under consideration to be developed as the main port for Ireland at the beginning of the 19th century.  Fortunately enough, though, Holyhead was chosen, allowing the harbour a gentle slide in to an active though more peaceful retirement. The fishermen don’t live in the village, in fact hardly anyone does. There are only four fulltime residents: Stuart and his family. The other houses are all owned and managed by the National Trust, mostly on long-term leases. Cars are not allowed into the village, which lies at the end of a mini peninsula, and the views across the bay to three-peaked Yr Eifl, the highest mountain in Llŷn, that plunges down to the shore are spectacular. On a sunny day, by all accounts, it’s even more impressive. “It reminds me of Lake Como, with the mountains plunging down into the sea,” says Richard Williams, the National Trust car park attendant, at the car park, a 20-minutes’ walk from Porthdinllaen. “Not that I’ve been there but I’ve seen pictures.” But inside the pub, on a grey day, hilltops obscured by clouds, a walker has a different take on things. “It feels like the end of the world…or Britain,” she says, starting on her first beer at 11am, after strolling across the beach from the car park. “It’s magical.” “People love stumbling across this pub,” confirms Stuart. “Especially if you chance upon it when we have live music. We once had a group of hikers - walking the coast path - arrive here at about five in the afternoon,” he says, “I ended up calling a taxi for them at two in the morning.” It seems Porthdinllaen is not always quiet. Following the coast path from the pub, I pass profusions of flowers in pots and others in old boats and then find myself on a golden sandy bay with a lifeboat station. The tide is out and seaweed on the rocks spreads out, like Medusa’s snaking tresses. Up and on from the lifeboat station, it’s a surprise to find a golf course. Over a couple of greens and there is a lookout post where I see someone looking out to sea through large binoculars. The lookout post is open to the public. I go inside and climb steep steel steps to find a couple in their 60s surrounded by charts and binoculars. They are volunteers with the National Coastwatch Institution, “keeping an eye on boats, walkers and anglers.” They also log wildlife. “Five Risso’s dolphins last Tuesday.” Wildlife, views and picture postcard quaintness: there’s lots to drink-in in the small fishing village of Porthdinllaen. This article was written by Paul Miles.