Badly, unless the connection you mean is the one in the wall. Over half the working population drives, and nearly four in ten never leave the house to work at all. Two thirds of households keep more than one car, which is less a lifestyle choice than a rota. The broadband comfortably outperforms the bus, and it is not a close contest. Redlynch is wired for the modern version of remote living and stubbornly unequipped for the old one.
There is no railway station in the area, and the commuting figures reflect it: train travel accounts for 0.1 percent of journeys to work. Buses do slightly better and still barely register at 0.6 percent, spread across 20 bus stops. A stop is not a service, and the distinction matters more here than almost anywhere else on this page.
The commute mix tells the real story. Around 53 percent drive to work and about 38 percent work from home, which between them account for nearly everybody. Walking takes about 3 percent and cycling around 2 percent. Roughly 63 percent of households run two or more cars, and only about 5 percent have none at all. Being car-free here is not a green choice, it is a logistical experiment.
The nearest town centre is modelled at about 18 minutes by car and roughly 35 by public transport. Doubling your journey time to sit at a stop is the kind of trade that looks fine on a Tuesday and wears thin by winter.
Broadband is the genuine bright spot. Gigabit-capable service reaches about 72 percent of premises and superfast about 98 percent, with no premises at all falling below the universal service obligation. For a village at the edge of a national park, that is a better hand than most commuter suburbs are holding.
Mobile is close to complete. At least one operator provides fourth or fifth generation coverage across the whole area, and about 98 percent has all of them, so the only signal question worth asking is which corner of the house.
In practice this means a household here builds itself around a car and a good desk. The work-from-home share is doing the connectivity that the timetable cannot, and anyone whose job requires a daily physical journey to a city should price in the mileage before the mortgage.
The Department for Transport's journey-time statistics, which are modelled for the area rather than measured from any particular front door, put that town centre at roughly 40 minutes by bicycle and about 106 minutes on foot. An hour and three quarters of walking to reach a town centre is not a commute, it is a day out.
The same statistics cover everyday errands. A doctor's surgery is modelled at about 10 minutes by car, 20 by public transport and 42 on foot. The nearest hospital is roughly 21 minutes by car and around 39 by public transport. A food store comes in at about 10 minutes driving and 46 walking. Employment centres are around 34 minutes by car and 22 by public transport, which is the one line where the bus wins. Those figures date from 2019, and while distances to fixed places do not move, bus services have been cut in plenty of rural areas since, so treat the public transport numbers with more suspicion than the car and walking ones.
Current bus data is less flattering than the stop count implies. Of the 17 stops with service information, the average is about 10 scheduled departures across a weekday and roughly one bus in the peak hour. Weekend provision is better than expected, with around 88 percent of stops seeing some service. One bus in the peak hour is a service you plan your life around rather than one that fits into it.
On noise, road traffic reaches or exceeds the 65-decibel level that official mapping treats as significant across 100 percent of postcodes here, with the loudest band present at 75 decibels. Railway noise does not feature at all. Rural does not mean silent, and the roads through here carry more than the hedgerows suggest.
Connectivity is the clear weak point in an otherwise comfortable picture. The fibre is excellent, the bus is a gesture, and everything else depends on a full tank.