I spent last weekend holed up in a rental cottage in Helford, Cornwall, on a little estuary off the Helford River.
It put me in mind of the classic what-constitutes-luxury debate - here was a house without TV, internet or mobile reception (normally an upsetting state of affairs for a web editor), in a village with so little lighting that the locals have to carry torches at night.
But it had privacy, an open fire and - as you can see - character. How many seven star hotels offer taxidermy, eh?
I only left Helford for a wander around nearby Coverack, which looks like this:
And here's the map:
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