if the map of devon be measured across in a straight line, it will be found that, from lyme regis, where it joins dorsetshire, to king’s tamerton on the river tamar, where devonshire at its westernmost extremity looks across to saltash, in cornwall, south devon is fifty-five miles across. that line, however, would miss quite two-thirds of the coast, and would pass so far inland as ashburton, on the borders of dartmoor; the profile of the south devon coast exhibiting a remarkably bold and rugged south-westerly trend out of a straight line, westward of the exe, and an almost equally bold north-westerly[2] direction after passing prawle point. the actual coast-line is therefore very much greater, and is prolonged by the many important estuaries and their subsidiary arms; such, for example, as that of the exe, which is navigable as far as the port of exeter, nine miles from the open sea; the teign, four miles; the dart, nine miles; kingsbridge river, seven miles; the avon, three miles; the erme, two miles; the yealm, four miles; and the hamoaze and tamar, from devonport to calstock, ten miles. in one way and another, the south devon coast, tracing the creeks and the coastguard-paths, is not less than one hundred and eighty-nine miles in length.
it is a historic coast, and plentifully marked with towns and villages; with this result, that it is by no means to be treated of shortly. devon has produced fully her share of great men, and many of them have been born within sight and sound of the sea; while the mere mention of torquay, brixham, dartmouth, and plymouth, recalls, not merely local annals, but prominent events in the history of england.
as the south devon coast is the most beautiful of coasts, so is it also among the most hilly. one hesitates to say that it is not the coast for exploring by means of a cycle, but certainly those who perform their touring in that sort must expect severe gradients, and must not anticipate, even so, an uninterrupted view of the actual coast; for there are many and considerable stretches along which you come to the sea only by unrideable[3] footpaths. the pedestrian alone can explore this seaboard thoroughly, and he will find, in the tourist season, at least, that his progress is limited by the climate, which not infrequently in the months of july and august, resembles the moist and enervating heat of the great palm house in kew gardens.
lyme regis, whence this exploration starts, is at the very door of devonshire, and was, indeed, in recent years within an ace of being transferred from dorset. at lyme, which lies, as it were, at the bottom of a cup, you perceive at once the sort of thing in store for those who would fare westward: exquisite scenery combined with extravagantly steep roads.
