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It’s not always possible to take a holiday, but sometimes the yearning to be somewhere else, to leave the pressures of daily life behind, is too hard to ignore. Last bank holiday weekend, with a 13th birthday to celebrate and a row of suns on the weather app, we found a solution. Our family of four, plus two of my sons’ friends, would drive two hours west, to Devon. We’d stay by the sea, go cycling and swimming, play Perudo and sit around a campfire, eating birthday cake. And be home the next day. We’d be 24-hour party people. Only less rock’n’roll, more rock pools and bacon rolls.
The catalyst was discovering Brandy Head on a Google Maps scroll. Like a mini youth hostel, sleeping six, with one double bed, two twin bunks, a shower room and an open-plan living, dining and kitchen area, this boxy little building sits on the clifftops between Sidmouth and Budleigh Salterton, accessible only on foot. Perched nearly 60m above sea level, its terrace is the big selling point, enjoying such gull’s-eye views of the sea that it feels like surfing a very tall wave every time you step on to it.
Those views now bring a steady stream of guests to Brandy Head, but in the past they brought the RAF – the building was originally put up in 1940 as an observation post for the top secret Gunnery Research Unit based at RAF Exeter. Apparently, it was here that Prof Sir Bennett Melvill Jones perfected the revolutionary aircraft gunnery sight that helped give allied air forces superiority on D-day. Restored from dereliction five years ago by Nell and Sam Walker, tenants of neighbouring Stantyway Farm, in partnership with their landowner, Clinton Devon Estates, Brandy Head opened as a hikers’ hut in 2021.
Not only would a stay steeped in military history entertain the boys but it was also close to Haldon Forest Park for mountain-biking, and two beaches for swimming, paddleboarding and a dependable supply of ice-creams.
We stopped at Haldon Forest Park on the way – and the boys and my husband, Richard, collected their pre-booked bikes and sped off along the park’s trails to hurtle over jumps, bridges and boardwalks. I swerved pedals in favour of hiking boots and headed to Canonteign Falls, another find from map scrolling, just 15 minutes’ drive away.
Home to what the website describes as the highest waterfall in south-west England, Canonteign is a collection of lakes, woodland walks and gardens with a cafe and adventure playground. Its showpiece waterfall was created in the late 19th century, but the real magic lies beyond it, in the fern garden, planted in Victorian times. Largely forgotten, it has been restored by the current owners and the fern expert Julian Reed, and forms an atmospheric glade where children hunt for fairies.
It was hard to leave this otherworldly spot, but there were boys to collect, and once reunited it was a half-hour drive to the sea, the back of the car a happy, flat-batteried fug of post-ride exhaustion. Snaking down lanes fizzing with cow parsley and red campion, and through thatched villages festooned with bunting, it felt less like we were driving to the coast and more like driving into the 1950s.
Nell had left instructions for collecting the keys near Stantyway Farm’s honesty cafe, a former Royal Navy warship container now stocked with tea, coffee, homemade flapjacks, squash and dog biscuits. It’s possible to leave cars here and walk in along a slightly longer route, but we carried on to the end of the lane, from where it’s a 10-minute walk up the fairly steep coastal path to Brandy Head.
“This is awesome,” said Alex, one of my sons’ friends, spotting a display of bullets fixed under a plastic tabletop on the building’s terrace, evidence of the ammunition testing that was also carried out here during the second world war. “I’m in the top bunk,” said my newly teenage son Owen, racing to bag his spot. No sooner had we put our supplies in the kitchen and slumped on the sofa than a head popped round the open doorway. “Ooh, can we have a look inside?” As Nell had warned us, visiting walkers are almost as much a feature of a stay here as the terrace is. The South West Coast Path runs along the front of the building and, while a good proportion of its hikers make up Brandy Head’s bookings, others stop to fill up water bottles from the outdoor tap, or to rest on the benches. If you’re looking for seclusion this is probably not the place, but, as a quirky overnight stay, it added to the charm.
“Beach time,” announced Lucas, another friend, when the walkers had left, sliders on, towel slung over his shoulders, chivvying the others out of the door. Turning east, it was a gentle 20-minute walk to Ladram Bay, a holiday park with a handy grocery store, a chip shop and a perfect little arc of public beach where we hopped over pebbles to swim in the bracing, briny cool.
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After bowls of warming chilli and slices of birthday cake back at Brandy Head, we piled into the field behind the building and lit the firepit, set up there for guests to watch the sunset. “This place is cool,” the boys agreed, before heading back inside to play cards.
The next morning we drank tea on the terrace at sunrise before the day’s walkers arrived, listening to skylarks and blackbirds. We walked to Budleigh Salterton, through the River Otter Estuary nature reserve, keeping an eye out for otters, beavers and sandpipers. We watched the boys whoop as they caught the chilly swoosh of more waves – and ate pasties from a kiosk on the beach before driving home.
That evening by the firepit, though, Richard and I sat listening to waves breaking far below in the fading light. As hares leapt across the field in front of us, it was comforting to think that Stantyway Farm’s wildlife-friendly approach has meant that land once used to prepare for war was now nurturing habitats for cirl buntings and peregrines. And those humans lucky enough to visit – even if just for one night.
Brandy Head Observation Post sleeps six people and costs £180 for one night and £120 for each subsequent night
