Badly, unless the connection you mean is the broadband one. There is no railway station. There are six bus stops and nothing scheduled through the rush hour. Around a third of people have solved the problem by not commuting at all. Everything here runs on the road out, and the moor takes its cut in minutes.
Rail is not a live option. No station serves the town, and the share of residents commuting by train rounds to zero. The bus network amounts to six stops, and about 1% of people use one to get to work, which tells you how the other options are performing.
The way this place actually gets to work is by car and by kitchen table. About 45% drive, about 35% work mainly from home, about 12% walk and around 1% cycle. Roughly 45% of households run two or more cars, and about 12% have none at all. A second car here is not an indulgence, it is what happens when two adults both need to be somewhere the bus does not go.
The gap between driving and not driving is the whole story. The nearest town centre is about 32 minutes away by car and about 51 by public transport, which is the sort of difference that quietly decides whether a household buys a second vehicle in its first year.
Broadband is the compensation, and it is a real one. About 91% of premises can get superfast, around 10% can get gigabit or ultrafast connections, and nothing at all falls below the universal service obligation. For a granite town on the edge of a national park, that is a better result than the road network manages.
Mobile coverage is similarly untroubled: just short of 100% of the area has data coverage from at least one operator, and about 97% has it from all of them.
What that adds up to is a place built for people whose work either happens at home or happens at the end of a drive they have accepted. There is no version of living here where the timetable does the work for you.
The Department for Transport's journey-time statistics, modelled for the area rather than measured from any particular front door, put the nearest town centre at about 32 minutes by car, about 51 by public transport, about 78 by bicycle and 120 on foot. That last figure is the ceiling the modelling stops at rather than a journey anyone attempts, and its appearing at all is the finding.
The same statistics put a doctors' surgery at about seven minutes by car and about nine on foot or by public transport, and a food shop at about six minutes whether walking or driving, which is the genuine strength of the layout. A hospital is about 45 minutes by car and about 82 by public transport. Employment centres come out at about 37 minutes by public transport and 120 by car, the second of those being the modelling ceiling again rather than a real morning. The public transport figures in this set date from 2019 and services have been withdrawn across rural Devon since, so treat them with more suspicion than the car and walking times, which change only if somebody moves a hospital.
Current bus data is more useful than the modelled version. Across the six stops, an average of about 10 scheduled departures a weekday, all six with some weekend service, and an average of zero buses in the peak hour. Ten departures spread across a day is a service for appointments, not for a working week.
Road noise is a non-issue. None of the postcodes here sit near or above 65 decibels, the level at which official noise mapping treats road traffic as significant enough to record, and no postcodes register against the separate rail noise threshold either.
Connectivity is comfortably the weakest thing about living here, and the town does not pretend otherwise. What it offers instead is a fast internet connection, a doctor and a food shop within a few minutes' walk, and the understanding that everything beyond that starts with car keys.