It was barely dawn when I trundled my suitcase out of Dartington Hall. I’d woken early and decisively, two hours before my alarm, and the joy of travelling on an Interrail pass is the ease with which you can change your plans. So here I am, rolling past the red cliffs and small harbours of the south Devon coastline in an almost-empty Intercity train, bo…
© 2025 Dougald Hine
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