Dusk is falling and I’m high in the hills, at the point where most of the sheep stop grazing and the heather, bilberry and bracken thin out. Pitching my tent in the last of the light, I gaze out at ...
Until recently, the most dramatic news coming from Dartmoor National Park, the 368-mile windswept jumble of jagged tors in south Devon, revolved around sporadic sightings of the ‘enormous, coal-black ...
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