Far from the madding crowd

Bank holidays don't have to mean tacky theme parks, dreary seaside resorts and crowded shopping centres. A hilarious new guide to the plucky underdogs of British tourism showcases the best attractions you've never heard of...

Poldark Tin Mine

Cornwall

To a 19th-century tin miner, it might seem odd to spend a relaxing day out in what was once a backbreaking workplace. It gives you hope that in the future our grandchildren will be able to ride an educational steam train round the scoured husk of the Tiscali Customer Service Call Centre and that every branch of Asda will have a landscaped leisure jungle grown over its staff room.

If it weren't for tourism, though, the Poldark Tin Mine might have remained utterly forgotten. In 1972, ex-Royal Marine Peter Young bought this site, with its abandoned forge, at auction for 100 (outbidding his nearest rival by a clear 90). He'd come for a wardrobe, but obviously had an eye for a bargain.

Opening it as a public attraction, Young displayed his collection of steam engines in the forge grounds. After neighbours complained about the engines' compressors, he dug a cutting to deaden the noise - and nearly fell into the old Wheal Roots mine, undisturbed since 1860. Not one to look a gift mine in the head, he included the tin workings as part of his attraction, Halfpenny Park, alongside the air hockey tables and twopenny falls.

Then, in 1975, Robin Ellis arrived back from the American War of Independence over a sweeping television hilltop, and the nation went Cornish-tin-mining mad. The BBC's adaptation of Winston Graham's Poldark novels drew in massive audiences and, quicker than you could doff a tricorn hat, Halfpenny Park was rebranded as the Poldark Tin Mine.

A trip down the mine today feels thrillingly authentic. The tunnels were not dug for public access, so Poldark is still covered by the Mines and Quarries Acts - and it feels that way. Though it's perfectly safe, it is wet, cramped and steep, and you will, no matter how many times you are warned, whack your head. There's a constant rushing sound and, as you pick your way down the dripping steps into the deepest shaft of the tour, water gushes past you on all sides. Occasionally, a guide wanting to scare the living daylights out of tour parties will turn off one of the pumps so the water suddenly overflows halfway up the mine. It livens up the day underground.

The owners boast that it is Britain's deepest mine, and will happily frank your postcards to prove that they were mailed underground. The chamber is also licensed for subterranean weddings for anyone who fancies forgoing their topper and bridal veil for matching hard hats.

Poldark Tin Mine, Wendron, Helston, Cornwall (01326 573173) www.poldark-mine.co.uk

Cheddar Crazy Golf

Somerset

Spare a thought for the golfing widow, not to mention the golfing orphans and the ever-increasing number of golfing widowers. Nearly- whole families sit round dining tables every Sunday watching unclaimed plates of roast growing slowly tepid. But when was the last time you heard of a miniature-golfing widow?

Cheddar Crazy Golf is not particularly crazy. It is, truth be told, more like mini golf. The owner has plans to crazy up the course; thankfully this will not involve the construction of a purple robot King Kong that shoots hot balls out of its eyes, but rather the addition of a discreet loop-the-loop to one of the holes. But the real joy of Cheddar is its handsome setting. Cheddar's stone construction is sympathetic to the natural landmark that towers on either side, and tips a dignified cap to both the gorge and Glastonbury Tor in the shapes of some of its obstacles. Aside from the occasional ebullient cheer from other players, the loudest sounds are the wind riffling through the trees and a busy waterfall laughing somewhere in the distance.

A leisurely round at Cheddar tees off with a relatively straightforward first hole, lulling you into thinking that the game is going to be a breeze. Don't rush it. Cocky shots are frequently punished, and one man's doddle can easily become another's downfall.

One of the holy commandments of mini golf is that you are only permitted a maximum of seven shots on any one hole. Seasoned eight- year-olds in polyester plus fours stand patiently in lines behind you, wincing and yawning as you skip your little coloured ball over the yogurt-pot hole yet again. Whatever your ability, take time to savour the setting: leaning back and shading your eyes to gaze admiringly at the cliffs above is a good cover for having taken too long on your putt.

A relaxing session at Cheddar is a most agreeable way of letting time roll by. It's an unadorned, small pleasure that, if more of us regularly participated, could lead to an outbreak of more civil behaviour in other areas of our lives. Above all, like the relationship of pool to snooker, it's the classlessness of mini golf that makes it the people's game.

Cheddar Crazy Golf, 7 Queens Row, The Cliffs, Cheddar, Somerset (01934 743661) www.cheddarsomerset.co.uk/spon/cheddarcrazygolf.htm