I got lost in Devon on my first trip. Genuinely lost — no signal, a single-track lane, and a tractor blocking the only way forward for ten minutes. I’d do it again tomorrow.
Devon is two coastlines stitched together by moorland, and most visitors only ever see one side of it. That’s the first mistake I want to help you avoid. Here’s everything I’d actually tell a friend before they go — the good, the overrated, and the stuff nobody puts in the brochure.
Devon splits into two very different coasts, and picking just one is the most common regret I hear from people who’ve been.
The north is wild. Cliffs, big surf, wind that’ll mess up your hair in five seconds flat. The south is softer — sheltered coves, palm trees in some spots, water that’s actually warm enough to swim in without yelping.
If you only have three days, base yourself in the south and day-trip north once. If you have a week, split it evenly. Either way, you’ll want a car — Devon’s train network doesn’t reach half of what’s worth seeing
Fair warning: the crossing can get rough, and the boat doesn’t run daily outside summer. Check the MS Oldenburg schedule before you build your whole day around it.
Parking fills up by mid-morning in July and August. Arrive before 10am in peak season or you’ll be circling for a spot longer than you spent on the sand.
Take the ferry across to Kingswear for the view back at the town; it’s the best fiver you’ll spend all trip.
Clovelly and Dartmouth are already covered above, so here are four more worth the detour: Appledore, with pastel houses lining a working shipyard; Lynmouth and Lynton, twin villages connected by that cliff railway; Cockington, thatched cottages so uniform it looks staged (it isn’t); and Ashburton, a food-lover’s town on Dartmoor’s edge with better restaurants than a place this size has any right to.
Devon seafood is the real deal — crab, mussels, and lobster turn up on menus everywhere, usually caught that morning. Farm shops are worth a stop even if you’re not buying anything; the cheese alone is worth the detour.
Now, the cream tea. In Devon, it’s cream first, then jam — the opposite of Cornwall, and locals will absolutely correct you if you get it backwards. I’ve seen a mild argument break out over this at a tearoom in Dartmouth. Just go with it; it’s not a hill worth dying on, even if the locals think otherwise.
>> Browse Devon’s restaurants ranging from Michelin-starred to cozy pubs and vibey cafes.
Rent a car. Public transport in rural Devon is patchy at best, and half the beaches and villages on this list aren’t reachable any other way.
Get travel insurance before you go, especially if you’re planning any of the boat trips or coastal walks — conditions can turn faster than the forecast suggests.
Pack layers. Devon’s weather changes its mind constantly — I’ve had rain, sun, and wind in the same afternoon, more than once.
Book accommodation early for summer. Salcombe and Woolacombe sell out weeks ahead in July and August. And if you’re looking for a family-friendly holiday in the east of Devon, Ladram Bay Holiday Park is right on the beach with stunning sea views. Find hotels on Booking.com or browse options on TripAdvisor.
TUI – Fabulous Vacation Packages from the UK to…
Go in shoulder season if you can. May, June, and September give you quieter beaches, easier parking, and roughly the same weather odds as peak summer.
Three days gets you one coast, done properly — not rushed, not skimmed. Five to seven days gets you both, with a day spare for the weather to ruin your plans and force a backup. If you’ve only got a long weekend, pick south Devon: it’s more compact, the drives between towns are shorter, and you won’t spend half your trip in the car. I wouldn’t try to “do” all of Devon in under three days — you’ll end up with a list of places you drove past rather than actually visited.
Yes, but not for the same reason people visit Cornwall. Cornwall trades on being remote and dramatic; Devon is more livable — you get proper towns with proper food alongside the coastal scenery, and it’s an easier trip if you’re not up for hours of narrow lanes just to reach a beach. If what you want is wild, empty, end-of-the-world coastline and nothing else, Cornwall might edge it. If you want that plus a decent meal, a city with some history, and moorland you can actually drive across, Devon wins.
Depends what you’re after, and I mean that literally rather than as a dodge. North Devon is for people who want surf, wind, and cliffs with some edge to them — Woolacombe and Croyde are proper surf beaches, not paddling spots. South Devon is for people who want calmer water, warmer afternoons, and towns like Salcombe and Dartmouth where you can sit outside with a drink and not get sandblasted. Families with young kids: south. Anyone who gets bored of flat water fast: north.
Late May through June, or September, if you want the beaches without the crush. July and August are when every car park fills by 10am and Salcombe’s prices go up accordingly — I’ve been caught out by this more than once. The weather odds aren’t meaningfully worse in the shoulder months; Devon’s climate is mild but changeable regardless of season, so you’re gambling on rain either way. What changes is how many other people you’re gambling alongside.
Yes, close to non-negotiable if you want to see more than one town. Public transport covers Exeter and a handful of larger towns reasonably well, but Clovelly, Lundy’s boat departure point, most of the best beaches, and both national parks are essentially unreachable without one. The exception: if you’re happy staying entirely in Exeter and taking day trips by train to a couple of nearby towns, you can skip the rental. For anything resembling the itinerary in this guide, book a car.
Devon rewards the people willing to get a little lost. Bookmark this page, pick a coast, and go find out for yourself.
Have you visited Devon — or is it on your travel wishlist? Share your favorite spots or memories in the comments. We’d love to hear your stories.
Traveling with purpose, writing with heart. – Maggy Mandle