by It’s been a while since I struggled into the damp neoprene in the morning. It’s the second day of a wintry weekend in Croyde, north west Devon. I’m stiff after an hour in the sea the afternoon before and the top of the super thick wetsuit won’t ride past my elbows. My husband Mark and I wiggle and pull and tear it across my limbs together. Finally, five minutes later, I find myself in a silver-blue sea, completely empty except for us. Waves with white crests roll in, bubbling and foaming, driving us forward towards the empty sandy area. This time there are no other boarders to dodge, no surfers darting past: it’s exciting, extraordinary and… really quite cold.
Croyde has long been a family favorite but visiting in November seems a bit of a gamble. In the off-season, the city has a reputation as something of a ghost town, with a large number of second homes and rental properties remaining dark from October to April. But when an unexpected email arrived from Endless Summer Beach House offering 20% off winter stays, it seemed like the ideal 30th birthday gift for my nephew Ben. So, along with his girlfriend Tasha, his best mate Rob and my sister Caroline, we decided to take the plunge and find out what Croyde actually looks like in the off-season.
When Mark and I arrive the sky is unexpectedly blue and we put on our wetsuits and head straight for the sea. One of the joys of Croyde is that it doesn’t really change: the dunes that separate the beach from the village are strictly protected, saving both from the development that has blighted nearby resorts such as Westward Ho! and Woolacombe. Instead, the fields flanking the dunes are teeming with rabbits, grazing quietly and darting away in white-tailed flashes as we pass.
At first it feels strange to find the beach so deserted, but when it’s free of windbreaks, ball games and pop-up tents, its raw, natural beauty becomes even more dramatic. No wonder the place is crowded in the summer months, when the sea foams with hundreds of bodyboarders and surfers and red and yellow lifeguard flags blow in the wind. Today there is nothing but sky and sea: a jagged patch of blue over the long curve of Hartland Point, a curtain of misty rain slowly dissolving Lundy Island into the flint-grey tide of the ocean.
The people we pass are smiling and friendly – a shared pleasure in having Croyde’s beautiful dunes and coastline pretty much to ourselves
When I stroll into the village later to get some bread, the narrow main street is almost as deserted as the beach. The Saltrock surf clothing store is open, as is The Hub, which Ben loves for its lemon crunch ice cream (and we all love for the pies). The post office is showing clear signs of life, as is The Thatch pub, but otherwise most pubs are closed until spring. As I stroll back, I think about how it takes 15 minutes to wait in line for ice cream in the summer, while the post office runs out of fresh produce around 9:30 a.m.
Not everything is shrouded in silence. When we go to The Thatch for dinner on Friday evening, the place is full and busy (I was worried it might just be us), although I suspect almost everyone else is local. As always, the food is fantastic: crispy salt and pepper squid and a Balinese seafood curry flavored with lemongrass and galangal, served with loads of coconut sambal, this is the best dish I’ve eaten out all year. The boys find room for banoffee pie and apple pie.
There are also many other signs of life. On Saturday we drive to Braunton (15 minute drive) for the annual fireworks display, driving down pretty streets we didn’t even know existed – we usually never get much further than the car park and co-op. It’s nice to get a sense of the place as it is Really is, without all the hustle and bustle of summer. On the way to the beach the few people we meet are smiling and friendly – a shared pleasure in having Croyde’s beautiful dunes and coastline pretty much to ourselves.
Traveling out of season has other advantages: Since we don’t expect good weather, a sunny Saturday is an absolute blessing. When it rains all day on Sunday, we put on our waterproofs and head to Baggy Point, where the sea – now a palette of steel, platinum and foamy white – is as spectacular as it is under blue skies. As soon as it gets dark, we play board games, watch old films, eat hearty curries and bolognese – without arguing about why the grill isn’t lit and whether the sausages are cooked.
The problem with labeling places like Croyde as “ghost towns” in the off-season is that it deters people from visiting them – exactly what our seaside resorts need most. The village was quiet, but far from dead – and honestly, when you’re with a group you create your own atmosphere anyway. As we packed up the cars on Monday lunchtime (another advantage off-season is that property owners are often more flexible about arrival and departure times), we were already talking about booking a return visit for next November. Some may call Croyde a ghost town, but it had just the spirit we needed for an early winter break.
Endless Summer Beach House, for 10 people, from £920 for a three day stay. For a 15% discount on stays of four nights or more through March 2026, use code EndlessSummer15
