Articles > England, Scotland and Wales

There was never a country so built for the senses as Britain. The skirl and wheeze of a lonely bagpipe drifting down a Scottish glen; the tug of a Hampshire trout stream pummelling at your waders; the college spires of Oxford floating above dawn mists; the flavours of tender Welsh lamb laced with mint, Cromer crab and Dover Sole. And most memorable, for this is an island after all, the salty tang of the sea as it hisses over broad Northumberland sands, thunders against rugged Pembrokeshire cliffs, or shuffles like a card-sharp through the shingle of a Sussex beach. And for each of these sensory treats there's a thousand more.

As islands go Britain is a sizeable proposition, sitting on the edge of northern Europe like an old maid dipping her foot in the wide atlantic, a little over eight hundred and seventy miles from her head to her toe. Between Land's End and Dunnet Head, two miles closer to the Arctic Circle than the better-known John O'Groats, lie ninety thousand square miles of unforgettable country, with nowhere further than seventy four miles from the sea.

More than anything else it is the sea that has defined Britain's character. As well as carving out the country's peculiarly craggy profile with its scouring surf and shifting tides, it has provided Britain with the means to prosper, the country's trading wealth and far-flung empire founded on its maritime skills, its great admirals and sea-ports like Plymouth and Portsmouth, Southampton and London, Liverpool and Glasgow. And if fortunes have flagged with the fading of Empire, the seafaring spirit along Britain's coastline is as strong as ever, its fishing ports, marinas and quays crowded with every kind of craft.

And what a coastline, ranging from gull-swept cliffs and palm-fringed coves in Devon and Cornwall to the reedy shallows of the Norfolk Broads, from wide strands and scalloped bays in the wild north east to the deeply-gouged, fjord-like firths that riddle Scotland's rocky coast. Here, along the shore, are Roman forts, Norman castles, Tudor blockhouses and nineteenth century Martello Towers put up to defend the realm; ancient abbeys built wherever the first Christians stepped ashore; and scores of wind-lashed lighthouses, flashing out their warning to centuries of shipping. And strung between them, like a necklace of lights, wherever the climate is mild, the sea safe and the sands golden, traditional seaside resorts like Brighton and Blackpool, Scarborough and Skegness, with their piers and promenades, their "Kiss-Me-Quick" hats, roller-coaster rides and candy floss stalls.

But Britain's coast is only half the story, a ribbon of sea and sand tied around an interior that lures and seduces with equal intent. Far to the north, Scotland accounts for some of the wildest, remotest and most romantic country in Britain. In its highlands and lowlands are haunting, mirror-flat lochs like Rannoch and Tay, Trool and Lomond, eagle-soaring crags like Ben Nevis and Merrick, fairy-tale turreted castles like Blair and Craigievar, and celebrated salmon rivers like the Tweed, the Spey and the Dee. Here are fine northern cities like Glasgow, set firmly on the Clyde yet within easy reach of the Trossachs; Edinburgh, one of Europe's rarest capitals, with its elegant Georgian terraces and annual festival of music and drama; Aberdeen, prosperous port of departure for the North Sea oilfields; and smaller settlements, too, like Kelso with its cobbled market square, Port Logan where the cod can be fed by hand and Arisaig with its grand views of the western isles.

Like Scotland, Wales has a wild, inspiring beauty, its narrow coastal pasturelands rising dramatically into the high peaks of the Brecon Beacons, the Black Mountains and lofty Snowdonia. Like Scotland too, it has its own tongue-twisting language, remains fervently nationalist and boasts a long line of home-grown heroes who fought for their independence against Roman, Saxon and Norman invaders. This is good country for fishing, trekking and climbing - the first men to reach the summit of Everest trained in Snowdonia - with unexpected delights like the Lleyn Peninsular and the waterfall country of Rheidol, the Plynlimon Hills, Dovey Valley and the enchanting Vale of Llangollen.

Not surprisingly, England has a little bit of both its neighbours, most evident in the uplands of Dartmoor and Exmoor, the rolling Yorkshire Dales, the Peak District and Wordsworth's timeless Lakeland, similar in all but scale to the wild reaches of Wales and Scotland. Where England differs is in its compactness. Despite its size, nothing seems too far away. Only a few hours from London are the orchards of Kent and the lavendar fields of Norfolk, the rolling Downs of Sussex and ancient forests like Sherwood, Dean and the oddly-named New Forest, declared a royal hunting preserve by William the Conqueror nearly a thousand years ago.

Along the way are elegant spa towns like Bath, Cheltenham and Royal Leamington Spa; the hallowed grounds of Oxford and Cambridge; and bustling midland cities like Birmingham and Nottingham, Manchester and Sheffield, heartland of the Industrial Revolution. Also within easy reach are grand stately homes like Chatsworth and Longleat, Petworth and Blenheim Palace; medieval castles like Arundel, Warwick and Windsor; and the soaring cathedral cities of Salisbury, Winchester, Lincoln and Durham. In a single day you could watch the sun rise over Stonehenge, search for King Arthur in the depths of Somerset, fish for trout in the River Itchen, and return to London for a West End play, reach Glyndebourne in time for an evening's opera, or make Stratford-upon-Avon for a date with the Bard.

The only problem you'll encounter is deciding what to do first.

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