Sitting between popular Salcombe and historic Dartmouth lies a wild corner of Devon which is so seldom missed from most visitor’s South West itineraries. Wild, weathered shores and exposed headlands, white slivers of sand and sheltered turquoise lagoons come together in perfectly juxtaposed matrimony and holds a far-from-the-modern-world appeal.
The Prawle Peninsula is as far from what one usually expects from the South Hams, where gentle hills roll into soft sand and calm seas. But here is a place where southern Devon is wonderfully loud and proud in all its unruly and unrefined beauty. It is also where one of our most elegant and understated properties resides. Tall and strong, yet gentle and cosy, safe and warm.
We arrived at Maberly when the first threats of an autumn storm were beginning to lick at the fallen leaves. Hurrying inside before the rain began to fall, we were immediately enveloped in the house’s charm and glamorous intimacy. We kicked off our shoes and set off to explore this grand home; up and down the Chippendale staircase, around corners and through hidden doors to each and every surprising nook. We feasted on a hearty dinner and settled by the fire in the lounge, deep glasses of red wine in our hands, as the storm raged outside, before slipping into enormous, cloudsoft beds.
A day later the weather brightened and with blue skies and September warmth we were itching to make the most of the sunshine. Bellies filled with rich cream teas, we hit the coast path at East Prawle, just 15 minutes from Maberly. Fresh winds whipped the seas below into a frenzy while the sun beat down on this southernmost peninsula. Laden with the last of the season’s sloes and blackberries, we returned to the village for a swift pit stop in the Pig’s Nose, Devon’s most characterful pub, before waving a fond farewell to this exquisite and ever-graceful home in the South Hams.
