FERNY COMBES. 
17 
and if the stranger lias not already been there, it 
is well worth his while to go out of his road a few 
miles to pay it a visit, and he may find his way 
back to Lynton through Porlock The other way 
is to cross the hills from Tor’s Steps to Winsford, 
where he will find the most perfect little inn, both 
externally and internally, that can be imagined, 
situated in the woody valley of the Exe; a place 
where he will be tempted to remain, and which 
he will long remember with pleasure. 
The road from Winsford to Exford (our next 
point) is no bad specimen of a Devonshire, or, to 
speak more correctly in this case, Somersetshire 
lane. It is only just wide enough for a small car¬ 
riage : turning is an impossibility; and if two ve¬ 
hicles were to meet, I know nothing for it but for 
them to remain vis-a-vis for ever and a day. In 
some places you could not even get out, unless you 
scrambled over the back of the horse or the back 
of the carriage. 
Erom Exford there is a road that leads to the 
top of Porlock Hill, the most dreaded bit of road 
in all the west country. The hunter after the 
beautiful should descend to the village of Porlock, 
pass by Lord Lovelace’s myrtle eyrie to Culbone, 
and on by the cliffs to Glenthorne. Any amount 
of fatigue will be amply repaid by a succession of 
c 
