Hartland Quay

If you want the most brutal, geologically insane coastline in the South West without National Trust complications, Hartland Quay is it. The folded, saw-toothed rock ribs run out to sea in parallel lines, and from the air they read like a giant's fingerprint — low evening sun raking across them is a shot that stops people scrolling. St Catherine's Tor and the Speke's Mill Mouth waterfall are within a short flight south. This is private land belonging to the Hartland Abbey estate, with a hotel and pub at the bottom of the toll road; the estate has generally been relaxed about respectful flying, but it's their call, so ask at the hotel if staff are about and be ready to accept a no. The cliffs are exposed to everything the Atlantic sends — wind acceleration over the cliff edge and downdraughts behind the tors are severe, and there is nowhere soft to ditch. Watch for the Lundy helicopter, which operates a winter shuttle from Hartland Point a couple of miles north, occasionally routing along the coast. Quiet outside summer weekends; sunset is the whole point here.