Here’s the thing about Start Bay: it’s not trying to be a glamorous resort. It’s the friendly, slightly soggy Labrador of campsites—loyal, unpretentious, and always up for a walk. The beach, Slapton Sands, is a short stumble down the lane. It’s a shingle bank that goes on forever, perfect for skipping stones or pretending you’re in a black-and-white film about stoic English fishermen.
You’ll see kids building castles that the tide will mercilessly destroy, and adults staring at the horizon like they’re solving the mysteries of the universe. I tried to build a sandcastle once. It looked more like a sad, lumpy potato. But that’s the beauty of it—nobody cares. The dogs here have the best lives, chasing tennis balls until they collapse in a happy heap.
When Nature Puts On a Show
If you’re lucky, you’ll catch a sunset that looks like someone spilled orange juice across the sky. It’s the kind of view that makes you forget you left the awning poles in the shed. And the stars at night? They’re so bright you half expect them to start singing show tunes. I swear I saw a shooting star, but it was probably just a plane—still counts.
Start Bay Club Campsite | The Caravan Club
One evening, I sat outside with a cup of tea, and a rabbit hopped past like it owned the place. That rabbit had more confidence than I’ve had in my entire adult life. It’s moments like that—simple, unplanned—that make Start Bay feel like a secret handshake with nature.
