Escape To Lynmouth

Richard Webber experiences the highs and lows of this beautiful seaside town in North Devon.

THE tiny, picturesque village of Lynmouth, which hugs the rugged North Devon coast, is peaceful now.

Holidaymakers amble along the streets, a handful of boats ride the gentle waves in the harbour and sounds of laughter fill the air.

The rivers, glistening in the midday sun, are at peace as they wind their way through the village and out to sea.

The local tourist guide ushered me up the steep stone steps to the Memorial Hall, the site of the former lifeboat station and now home to a permanent flood disaster exhibition.

Seventy years ago, enough water to supply the area's needs for more than a century crashed down from the hills of Exmoor during one fateful night.

"If you were standing here seventy years ago, you'd be under sixty feet of water and rubble," a local guide told me, pointing to where the Lyndale Hotel once stood.

A quarter of Lynmouth's buildings were swept away by the flood and the village's rebuilding took six years.

Thankfully, though, not everything was lost to the forces of nature.

Strolling down the main street, it's easy to see why Lynmouth is dubbed "Little Switzerland".

This is thanks to the Victorian buildings, many adorned with Swiss-style balconies, nestled against the steep wooded hillside.

The nickname originates, apparently, from poet Robert Southey, who, on visiting in 1799, stated there was something distinctly Alpine in the village's appearance.

It's certainly all hills around here - and I'm talking one in fours - so to reach the small town of Lynton, sitting directly above Lynmouth, I jumped aboard the water-powered funicular railway.

Running on 862 feet of track, the Cliff Railway opened in 1890 to help transport not only freight between Lynmouth and Lynton, but tourists who flocked here on paddle steamers.

Before the railway was built, the cliffs posed many logistical problems.