A solo parent recounts a family walking holiday in Exmoor with HF Holidays, a cooperative offering a charmingly nostalgic, 1950s-esque experience at Holnicote House. Despite an early tick removal scare, the communal atmosphere, structured walks, and evening activities fostered strong camaraderie. Her initially reluctant children, making friends and learning from guides on varied walks, ultimately embraced the outdoors. The trip, blending British history with guided adventure, proved surprisingly social for the parent and transformed her son into a walking enthusiast, making it a memorable and successful family getaway despite the minor drama.
“I’m not going to wake her up,” I hiss at my 12-year-old son who’s standing half naked in a dark corridor of a Victorian house. “Please, Mum. She said we could come at any time! I don’t want to get Lyme disease,” he begs.
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This is not the kind of drama I was expecting when I signed up to a family walking holiday in Exmoor. A few meltdowns about an extra mile or a blister perhaps, but not a night mission to one of the guides to request a tick removal.
The door opens and Jill comes out brandishing her tweezers. “Have you found another one?” she says cheerily as she whips out the bug that’s buried its head in my son’s torso.
double quotation markFrom the briefings in the boot room to hula-hooping on the lawn, we could easily have time travelled to 1956
As we trot back to our room, I feel as though I’ve walked into one of the Enid Blyton boarding school books I devoured as a child, returning from a visit to matron with the warm fuzzy feeling of being safe and looked after. Everything about this HF Holidays trip, based at Holnicote House, near Selworthy, feels as though I’ve stepped into a little piece of British history. From the morning briefings in the boot room to pre-dinner hula-hooping on the lawn, we could easily have time travelled to 1956.
The company – a cooperative – has been around since 1913, when Lancashire pastor Thomas Arthur Leonard founded the Holiday Fellowship to give working people access to countryside walking holidays. More than a century later, much of that original spirit survives: communal dining tables, organised walks, evening entertainment and the feeling that everyone has collectively agreed to leave behind modern life for a few days.
The holiday is based at Holnicote House. Photograph: Andrew Hasson/Alamy
I’ve come with my two daughters, 10 and 14, and my son in the hope that one of them might turn into a new walking buddy. Since marrying my husband 18 years ago, holidays have tended towards the accessible – he has partial paralysis – and long hikes, ridge walks and muddy scrambles are things I associate with a previous version of myself. This time I’ve left him at home and have four days (and four walks) to turn the kids on to the pleasures of the great outdoors. We share two rooms with Victorian sash windows and built-in cupboards, simple but spacious. The house has been an HF Holidays property since 1952 and has 32 rooms (14 are singles), sleeping up to 50. This week, there are about 40 of us.
Over scones and cream at the arrival briefing, the kids scour the room for children their age, while I clock other solo parents and grandparents along with a couple of multigenerational family groups. Each day, we can choose from four walks graded in difficulty from level one (about 3 miles), to level four (about 10 miles and with the steepest ascent).
double quotation markMy children’s initial resistance quickly turns to enthusiasm when they realise friends made on the lawn are also on the walks
We quickly find our stride: ticking boxes to order packed lunches; attending evening briefings to choose the next day’s walk; joining in organised nightly activities. It’s an introduction for my children to a particular brand of Britishness – one of tea in the drawing room and snacks in brown paper bags, of camaraderie and can-do. And although they are the only mixed-race children here, they easily fold into the tribe of HF Holidays repeaters. Their presence speaks to the history of this country mansion, which during the second world war became Britain’s first mixed-race orphanage, established for children born to Black American GIs and white British mothers at a time when many faced open hostility and rejection.
Two of the writer’s children. Photograph: Antonia Windsor
My children’s initial resistance to the idea of a walking holiday turns to enthusiasm when they realise we’re all in it together and friends made out on the lawn are also on the walks with them. Each day, we’re out for five or six hours. The walks are so brilliantly paced with snack stops, paddle stops, tree climbing stops and the promise of ice-cream at the end, that even my youngest, the most reluctant, happily keeps pace and asks questions about trees and flowers. Mary, our guide, was a geography teacher and imparts her encyclopaedic knowledge engagingly, getting us to count rings on felled trees to determine their age or to guess which leaves come from which tree. We’ve borrowed some binoculars and enjoy identifying the white feathers of a buzzard’s belly and working out the name of a cargo ship far away in the Bristol Channel.
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The walks, which are largely circular, cover varied landscapes: fields of buttercups and noisy sheep, pine forests and cliff paths. A particular favourite is a walk that starts by travelling two stops on the steam train of the West Somerset Railway and ends with a visit to Dunster Castle, which emerges fairytale-like from a deer-filled field.
Panorama view of Dunster castle in England. Photograph: Pavel Dudek/Alamy
As a solo parent I’m never lonely. Long conversations on walks lead to shared meals and drinks. The children bag “kids tables” at dinner, forcing us adults to mingle. I share one meal with a father who’s with his youngest while the older children are home revising, another with a woman who’s brought her grandchildren (up to three under-11s stay for free with a paying adult). Nearly everyone has been on an HF Holiday before; many came themselves as children. The food is surprisingly good with nightly three-course dinners; my son loves the soups, my eldest the salads and the youngest feels too grown up for the kids menu of burgers and nuggets and opts instead for fish and couscous, or chicken and potato gratin.
The holiday ends with dancing to a live ceilidh band. The final song has Sally walking down an alley and meeting a man from Tennessee. I think of those young English girls and their GI lovers, and for all the old-fashioned fun of the past few days I feel grateful I’ve had my children in a different era. Watching my daughters line dance with pensioners, I vow that this is where I, too, will bring my grandchildren, if I’m lucky enough to have them. But until then, I will bring my son, who tells me on the drive home that he preferred this holiday to any beach holiday we’ve had – despite the ticks. I think I may just have found myself a new walking buddy.
The trip was provided by HF Holidays. The next four-night Exmoor Family Walking Adventures are on 17 and 24 August, £909pp (under-11s free), including full board and daily guided walks. Book now for discounts of up to £172pp for Easter, August and October 2027
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