This place is heaven for ciderheads. Surrounding the 18th-century white stone farmhouse are 65 acres of orchards growing 70 different apple and pear varieties - with comical names such as Ball's Bittersweet, Hendre Huffcap and Startlecock (yes, really). 'We call it that because of the effect it has on you after a few pints,' says Mike, as he swaps my glass of Headless Man for a drop of Frederick. 'When you've got to go, you've got to go. Know what I mean?'
You camp, you help with the harvest, you get to drink the cider. A great idea for weekend's getaway, if you ask me.
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