Having the right guide can make a big difference. I discovered Sandy Acres beach through Mod Le Froy. She and her husband, Ed, the owners of Global Boarders, started coming to Cornwall from London on weekends a few years ago and before long decided to move here permanently. Instead of being based at one beach, as most Cornish surf schools are, often in mediocre conditions, their operation is mobile and opportunistic: They choose which breaks to stop at according to the waves and the number of people there. Another founding principle of the company is its commitment to sustainability, including cleaning beaches and setting up an organization that tracks water quality. "We want people to see how varied and beautiful this coast is," Mod explains. It is clear after a few sets what makes these breaks such a magnet: Cornwall juts way out into the Atlantic and generates the type of surf you usually find in places like Montauk and Biarritz. And because of its large number of bays, the water is tame enough for amateurs or wild enough for the skilled.

Then there's the food. I have a half-dozen creamy oysters from the nearby Helford River, followed by a refined version of fish-and-chips at the Porthminister Café in St. Ives, co-owned by chef Michael Smith, an Aussie surfer and proponent of a new trend for excellent cooking right on the beach. Smith uses seasonal and organic ingredients (the restaurant's vegetable garden is next door), and the menu includes Cornish crab salad with vermicelli noodles and chili, and grilled lime-salted local scallops. Around me, young families are tucking into warm crumpets and clotted cream while a group of twentysomethings order a round of Bloody Marys. As the sun comes out over the café's seafront terrace and the temperature turns relatively balmy, Cornwall's moniker as the English Riviera begins to feel authentic.

The sailing and surfing are great, but the hiking deserves equal attention. A gorgeous path runs the entire 258 miles of Cornwall's coastline, past small towns where ramblers join in for a mile or two, and includes more isolated headlands where the only company is a lounging seal. Outside the charming town of Port Isaac, the trail climbs quickly onto grass-topped cliffs above a sea view of lobster pots and small fishing boats; near Tintalgel, the walk leads from a lonely, windswept Norman church and graveyard to the site said to be King Arthur's castle. By Lamorna Cove, I find a particularly romantic two-hour walk that ends at a small restaurant where they serve afternoon tea, always a boon for the weary.

These forgotten coves and narrow trails off the beaten path remain Cornwall's greatest asset. This point is brought home as I drive down lanes lined with old stonewalls to Gurnard's Head, a canary-yellow inn and restaurant near the tiny village of Zennor, where D. H. Lawrence once retreated to write. Inside, pints of ale are being poured behind the bar and traditional musicians strum melancholy Cornish ballads in front of a fireplace. In the candlelit backroom with its heavy wood benches, I sit down to the best meal of the trip: mussels delicately flavored with local herbs and a spicy fish soup with freshly baked bread. The cheery place was recently bought by owners who source their ingredients within a ten-mile radius of the kitchen. They showcase what is best about Cornwall: fine regional produce given an innovative twist, and served in one of the world's most striking landscapes.