Some hidden gems in ridge-and-vale-country

Martin Hesp takes a stroll over the border to find some exquisite cider and a pub being lovingly restored to its former glories

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Certain corners of the landscape somehow hold or retain a greater air of mystery and intrigue than others.

There's no real reason for this - maybe something to do with the curvature of hills or a sense of intimacy promoted by the lay of the land.

But somehow, when the contours combine and the geology and the flora and fauna all come together in one glorious orchestration, you can find yourself in a place that is not only different from the rest, but altogether more alluring.

That is what I was thinking as I climbed a steep hill in West Dorset last week. For this is ridge-and-vale-country and as such it pulls off the difficult trick of combining grandeur on a large scale with a comfortable intimacy that would make any self-respecting Hobbit beam from ear-to-ear. There's nowhere else quite like it.

Ever since I read Geoffrey Household's The Rogue Male as a boy I've been captured by the idea of West Dorset's great ridges, its rich verdant vales and its secret hollow lanes. In later years, I've also been intrigued by its orchards. For this is cider-country. You will, at this time of year, spy the apple-tree's tell-tale blossoms sparkling white and pink down in the goyals and side-valleys which descend in their intricate multitude to provide water and life to places like the wide and fertile Marshwood Vale.

As such, it is an area much-explored by the nation's greatest writer on all things apples and cider, James Crowden, who happens to live nearby. Regular readers of these pages will remember James - he's a great friend of Hesp Out West and as such he occasionally prepares little adventures for me, and therefore you dear readers, to enjoy.