Much as I have come to love Devon, there are times when even its wildest places seem densely overpopulated, its most expansive moors hemmed in on every side, and its highest hills little more than dimples on the horizon.
At such times I indulge myself in digging out old postcards such as these from my collection, gazing over scenes that were once familiar to my feet as well as my my memory.
If memory serves me well, the Talisker distillery, which featured in a recent post, lies beyond the horizon here. A body would deserve a dram after such a climb. For the time being, however, I’ll just have to content myself with a nostalgic wander through the postcards. Wish you were here? I wish I was there…