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Despite the wholesome nostalgia, there's also a mini food revolution happening, reflected in a gentrified locavore spirit, and a palpable effort to move with the tides, so to speak. Hiring wheels is by far the best way to explore, and since the phone signal is notoriously patchy it's also a good idea to brush up on old-school map-reading skills.
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Inland, cattle and sheep graze in jade fields sheltered by giant oaks winding roads edged with hedgerows and wild grasses evoke Enid Blyton's adventures. The coast is a study in blue and green and the water can segue from dazzling turquoise to slate-grey in the passing of one morning. Yet as you drift toward the undulating cliffs and greenery-enfolded hills, most voyagers are met with the distinct feeling that they are travelling backwards, into an almost romanticised version of yesteryear. The island, just off the south coast of England, is just a 40-minute ferry (or three-minute hovercraft) from the mainland. Lord Tennyson described the air on the Isle of Wight as "worth sixpence a pint", and, as you cross the Solent, it proves impossible not to lift your face to the sky and draw in a deep breath of the stuff.