Sitting in the tearoom"s garden, I reminded myself to heap jam on to my scone first – cross the border to Devon, less than two miles away, and I"d be obligated to put cream on first instead (the forgetful, beware!). Taking a bite, watching bees buzz around fat pots of flowers, listening to hikers trade tales from their time on the South West Coast Path, just a 10-minute walk away, I found myself, already, missing this part of the world: its scenery, its people, its history, its flavours, and yes, even its highway.