Occasionally folk like to climb to the roof of the world - especially around Christmas and New Year when they like to get some sort of overview of the world around them, and work off those festive calories. In the West Country, roofs don't get higher than the ones at Minions, Cornwall’s highest village. 

Even if you’ve never been to the area, you may well have seen it. Or at least, spied its mighty television mast perched on top of neighbouring Caradon Hill. This great bastion of modern-day communications seems to mix incongruously with everything else in this south-easterly corner of Bodmin Moor, where the relics of ancient-folk are scattered far and wide.

We’re here for those views but if we get a little history thrown in, so much the better. In fact, you cannot walk an inch on these high plains without bumping into the past. If it’s not the prehistoric stone circles, then it’s the clutter left by tin-streamers, copper miners and quarrymen who knocked seven bells out of the moors.

Few places in the region are as messed about with as this once productive corner. There were entire shanty-towns up here with names like Darite, Pensilva (once Bodminland), Upton Cross, Common Moor and Crow's Nest. Minions was originally called Cheesewring Railway. The area was the Cornish equivalent to a gold rush, though it is impossible to believe it now.

Today you might spot a few folk visiting The Hurlers - the ancient stones of that name are the first thing we'll see once we’ve stopped at the nearby car park. 

It’s not often you can view three stone circles in a row and archaeologists remain baffled by the seemingly excessive erecting of so many monoliths.

Legend says that God was so angry when the men of Minions dared to ignore his Sabbath by playing the heathenish game of hurling - he turned them all to stone. Another tall-tale claims it is impossible to count the Hurlers but, should you do so correctly, some terrible misfortune will befall you.

I’ve never been good at counting, so marched off to the big engine house you will see to the east. This has been converted into an interpretation centre where you can learn all about the area and its mines.

The main thrust of mining around here occurred when prospectors located a copper lode on the slopes of Caradon Hill. Development was fraught with difficulties. There were few roads and it was a long way to the coast. The answer was a railway, but it took ten years to build the line that linked the mines to the port of Looe.  

Thousands were drawn by the promise of riches - hence those shanty-towns, which had a reputation for lawlessness. There are few historical records of these places, but accounts show that over 650,000 tons of copper ore was mined in less than three decades. 

The boom was short-lived as foreign mines opened and copper prices slumped.

Then the moor was returned to sheep, ponies, ring ouzels and larks. And to hikers who can enjoy seeing traces of all this industry as they walk north-east to the disused railway that leads around the hill to the Cheesewring Quarry. Rock from this impressive place found its way into the fabric of Westminster Bridge, Tower Bridge and the Thames Embankment.

The quarry gets its name from the great stack of rocks perched high and precariously above the workings. 

We walked around the wobbly stack along a small path through the clatter of rocks. This eventually curves to the west, leaving us high on a promontory overlooking the pretty village of Henwood and the hamlet of Sharptor. Above the latter is the pile of rocks that shares the hamlet's name and, looking beyond this north-west, you can see right into the heart of Bodmin Moor.

Looking east, you are treated to tremendous views of the Tamar Valley. From the north Cornish coast your eye swings around to the northern spur of Dartmoor - and then follows its western flank ever south until you can see the distant outskirts of Plymouth.

And there is Kit Hill. It's not often you get to look down on this massive protuberance, but there is Cornwall's answer to Mount Fuji, with Callington clinging to its sides.

Now we walk around the northern slope of our promontory, between yet more rock clatter, and find ourselves descending onto a high plain. There's no path, so we must pick our way among the rocks, but at the same time not be tempted to descend too far to the north as there is a bog called Witheybrook Marsh.

To the west, on a low hill, there's a big quarry and we head for this, crossing low ridge where you are treated to yet more stupendous views. 

This time it's south and west Cornwall. The Dodman in the south - and the wind-farm above Newquay in the north. You would be able to peer all the way to Penwith, if it wasn't for the Cornish Alps.

Over Craddock Moor we go to Tregarrick Tor, so that we can enjoy the sparkling vista of Siblyback Lake. 

Next we re-crossed the moor back to The Hurlers. I could see why the ancient ones wanted to rejoice up here, but for the life of me could not figure out why they needed three stone circles. But who's counting? Not me.

Fact File

Basic hike: from Minions north east around hill above hamlet of Sharptor - and from there west to Craddock Moor and back via Tregarrick Tor.

Recommended map: Ordnance Survey Explorer 109 Bodmin Moor.

Distance and going: four to five miles - easy going, fairly level.

LOCAL KNOWLEDGE

Gallop to Golitha

The most scenic and probably best known waterfall is just down the road from Minions - if the weather is a little inclement take a quick walk in the National Trust owned woods at Golitha Falls. 

Line to Looe

Another wet-weather idea if you are in this neck of the woods is to jump on the charming little train which tootles down the branch-line (mentioned in the walks article) from nearby Liskeard to Looe.