Dartmoor, the place of folk lore, mystery and legend is already pretty spooky, add in a layer of Halloween and mist, and it’s the spookiest place on the planet.

Whenever I’m back home it’s an essential stop, if only for the jacket potato at The Rugglestone Inn (speaking of legends). Eating my weight in potato, cheese and beans is appropriately followed by a ramble up the moor to work off said potato.

The colours of the bracken and trees, mixed with fog and the brisk air were a visual feast and the energy of the moor had me scrambling high over rocks with my Dad, prompting school children with ropes, helmets and crash mats to ask if we were professional climbers (we’re not, and were perhaps not setting a good example), but the photos were worth it…