WE are never more than 72 miles from the sea. Britain, including the islands, has a coastline of more than 19,000 miles, a mere 5,000 miles shorter than the circumference of the earth and blessed with all the diversity for which the land has been lauded for centuries. Yet, until the late 18th century— and, really, not until the 20th century—the coast was a distant poor relation, perceived as merely the abode of fishing folk, military fortifications, lawless pirates and smugglers. This was despite Britannia long and proudly parodying itself as an island race and ruling the waves.
William Cobbett in his Rural Rides (1821–26) generally gave the coast a wide berth and H. V. Morton, a century later in his In Search of England, charted a decidedly inland course. The Spectator, when reviewing the Batsford guide to the English coast as late as 1936, could still write with justification that guidebooks generally overlooked ‘the exciting and beautiful relationship of the land to the sea’. Unlike the countryside, which is largely the result of centuries of human endeavour, the coast is the last repository of wilderness, the evocative recall of the absent traveller or the welcome sight on their return—but none of that made an iota of difference.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة April 10, 2024 من Country Life UK.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 8500 مجلة وصحيفة.
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هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة April 10, 2024 من Country Life UK.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 8500 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
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