Bus pass, boots and Backpack Mark III

Or  the bus pass ranger rides again!

Note this is a long and photo intensive post so you might want to skip through it, skip it altogether or perhaps make a cup of tea and enjoy coming with me to beautiful Devon.

I have just got back from another little jaunt with my bus pass - this time I went to Totnes, Kingsbridge and Dartmouth and wasn't I lucky with the weather? Devon in weather such as we are currently enjoying is absolutely stunning.  The table has been strewn with maps, timetables and books for weeks whilst I planned my next trip and did my research on the internet and with the weather set fair I quickly booked my B&Bs and was ready to go.  It would be lovely to feel able to just go and to find somewhere to spend the nights as I went along like a proper backpacker but although that might be possible if I was with a friend I am not keen on finding myself without accommodation all on my own!!

Day 1 Home to Dartington Hall

Last Tuesday I set off from home on foot up the path through the woods adjoining us and came out onto the main road where I caught a bus, fortuitously timed at 9.30 the earliest that my bus pass can be used, to Chard a journey of just over an hour most of which was familiar territory to me.  Arriving in Chard I had time for a brief wander round - not much of interest to be seen or at least not in the time available - and a cup of tea, more to make use of the cafe's toilet than because I needed a drink, before my next bus which would take me on to Axminster - a 30 minute ride away - was due.  However it was almost 20 minutes late arriving and I thought I would miss my next connection and maybe have to get a train but luck was with me and although I had allowed only a 15 minute connection time the next bus hadn't yet left!  An hour and a half later I arrived at Exeter.  I have to say that the journey by train is more picturesque and pleasant not to mention quicker and I must admit I found this part of my journey a bit tedious.  However with an hour before the bus to Totnes was due I had time for a sandwich lunch and a cold drink in my favourite cafe at the Real Food Store not far from the bus station I was soon restored and refreshed.  I was finding the back pack heavy though and wondered if I had packed more this year or whether that recent birthday had made me less able - I began to doubt my ability to move on each day and thus to have to carry it with me more of the time than I had on previous trips.

As I had recently been to Totnes with Mr M by train I didn't factor any time for sightseeing there into my plan and duly set off along the footpath beside the river Dart towards Dartington Hall which was to be my first stop for the night.

Luckily the path wound its way beneath trees for much of the way so it wasn't too hot although the back pack was rubbing my shoulders rather annoyingly - however the scenery was lovely and tranquil as the path followed the river towards Dartington.

I toiled up a rather long and seemingly steep drive by now feeling very hot and wondering if I was absolutely bonkers to be doing this. I was by now tired - no make that exhausted - and my shoulders were sore from the straps of the backpack but.....

Dartington Hall is a magical place where ....

... I had this lovely room (for some reason the double room was cheaper than a single for the night I waanted!) in the West Wing of this beautiful Medieval building - up two flights of stairs though but that of course meant I had a lovely view and could sleep with the windows wide open to the cool night air.

As you will see by the clock on the Great Hall, if you click on the photos to enlarge them, it was 5.00 when I got to my room - nearly 8 hours after leaving home that morning a journey which according to Google could have been done in an hour and 23 minutes by car but there's more to life than increasing its speed and I had enjoyed the countryside we passed through from the bus in a way that wouldn't have been possible in the car.

The view from my window across the courtyard to the East wing where the offices and so on are housed.  Having settled in and unpacked - there didn't seem to be anything more than last time in the bag - I had a shower noticing that I now had two red marks and my collar bones/shoulders were quite sore and hoped that they would improve by tomorrow.  Showered and refreshed I made myself a drink and then went for a wander round the gardens in the evening sunshine.

As most of the day visitors seemed to have gone home it very quiet and I didn't see anyone else on my wander....

.... I sat on this lovely seat in  the evening sunshine for a while and felt completely at peace - pure santosha!

The gardens are lovely and exactly my cup of tea not being immaculate so much as natural - apparently there used to be a team of 25 gardeners but now there are just 4 plus an apprentice!

There are lots of sculptures dotted about including this lovely swan fountain - a gift from Austrian artist Willi Soukop to the Elmhirsts.  The base of the sculpture was aparently found in the Tiltyard see below:

The Tiltyard - which was at one time thought to have been used for jousting but later discovered to have been a lily pond a more likely use of the area since it offered limited space for jousting anyway. 

If you enlarge this photo you will see where I have marked which was my room

Back at the house I brushed my hair and went to find my dinner in the White Hart which is next to the Great Hall just across the courtyard.

I loved the ambiance of the place and the food was delicious - my choice was a rissotto of peas, broad beans and asparagus with a side salad which were delicious and for dessert the summer pudding -  beautifully presented and almost a pity to eat it but I did of course, including the pretty little pansy, and it was as luscious as it was beautiful. I love summer pudding.

 Back in my room I lay on the bed in my PJs and having read the information folder (filled with interesting facts about the place and the Elmhirsts who had bought it back in 1925) and the beautiful book One Endless Garden which was provided for my reading pleasure, I watched some TV till it was time for a bedtime drink and lights out.  A tiring day but ending in such a beautiful place I was well content and slept like a log.


Day 2 Dartington Hall to Kingsbridge

I woke early feeling refreshed after my sleep in such a comfortable place.  The clock said it was 6.00 am!  This photo taken through the glass of the open window hence the reflections on the glass.

Breakfast was served in the White Hart where I had dined the previous night and was a sumptious buffet of all manner of delicious options - my choice was muesli with fresh fruit salad topped with yoghurt and to follow some toast and marmalade but I could have had full cooked English breakfast had I so desired.  I noticed this lovely tapestry hanging on the wall as I ate and was reminded that the previous evening when I had ventured into the Great Hall for a look round I had noticed more tapestries in there and wondered who had woven those.

So I went back to have a further look.

These it seems were commissioned in the 1930s and woven by Elizabeth Peacock and the full set took her 10 years to weave.  I wish the reflections on the glass hadn't obscured the information about each one as it was all so fascinating but I can't of course remember it all now!  I was particularly interested in the blue and grey one in the photo above which represents textiles and weaving and spinning in particular since I studied textiles both at college in the 60's and as a City and Guilds course in the 80's.

I decided to walk to the Shops at Dartington - which are a 20 minute walk from the Hall and sited in what was the Old Cider Press so having vacated my room I left my backpack at Visitors Reception and set off through the gardens.

These yew trees are supposed to represent the 12 apostles and are lined up along the Tiltyard - it may be that they were to screen the yard from the house if as is thought it might have served as a rubbish dump before becoming a pond.

As I walked from the more formal part of the garden along the path through the meadow filled with flowers I came across these orchids blooming profusely!

Aren't they beautiful?

I passed these lovely gate posts and on out onto the road.

This blue house - High Cross House - is considered to be one of the best examples of modernist architecture in Britain and had been leased to the National Trust but they opted out of the lease due to lack of visitors and it is no longer open to the public.  Shame as I'd love to have seen inside and what a contrast to the Hall itself!

I continued along the road with views of Dartmoor in the distance till I reached the Old Cider Press and the shops.

I spent some time poking round the shops which sold all kinds of interesting merchandise the profits of which go to help support the Trust's charitable activities but of course I couldn't buy anything as I wouldn't have been able to carry it!  Had a cup of tea in Cranks cafe sitting in the garden with it before wending my way back to the Hall.

Reclining Figure 1945/46 is by Henry Moore - she doesn't look terribly comfortable on that hard stone base does she? The curves of the sculpture echo the rolling hills in the distance and it has been recognised as "perhaps the most serene and elegiac piece of Moore's career, perfectly balanced and harmonious" or so said Roger Berthoud.  I wouldn't know myself.

I must admit that this little bronze donkey is more up my street and reminded me of my visit to the Donkey Sanctuary last year although this time it was warm and sunny and not raining!  He was designed in 1935 by Will Soucop an Austrian artist who lived at Dartington for many years and this little chap was part of a gold award winning Chelsea Flower Show exhibit.  His ears, the donkey's I mean, have been polished by the hands of 70+ years' worth of children stroking them for good luck!

Back in the courtyard now and I made my way to the Round House where I bought a sandwich and a cold drink which I enjoyed sitting outside in the shade before having to take my leave of Dartington.

I reluctantly made my way back to Visitor Reception to pick up my bag - aren't these steps beautiful?

One last look back and I was off on my walk back to Totnes to get a bus to Kingsbridge and my next B&B.  Dartington Hall was going to be a very hard act to follow and I wished I'd booked another night there!

Back along the route I had taken the previous day although this time it was downhill so much easier going and by now I was finding the backpack a bit easier.  I turned off the path near the station where I was to catch my bus and found I had half an hour to spare so I sat on a bench in the shade and relaxed thinking how much I had enjoyed my time at Dartington and that I would love to go back again sometime.  Apparently there is a Literary Festival there each summer called Ways with Words see here and what fun that would be - maybe next year.  Can you imagine sitting about in the sunshine, walking the many paths through the estate, eating at the White Hart and listening to any of the interesting talks - what a lovely way to spend a few days.

My bus arrived and we set off for Kingsbridge through the countryside.  The roads were narrow and tall pink spires of foxgloves covered the roadside banks - luckily the draught the bus caused as it passed seemed to cause them to rear back so as to avoid being decapitated!  We went up steep hills (I was glad I wasn't on foot!) and plunged down through green tunnels before bursting out into the open once again.  We squeezed through pretty villages past thatched cottages almost touching the thatch and round corners so tight I wondered if the bus would make them.  I wonder if you have to take a special test to drive a Devon bus as well as the usual Public Service Vehicle one?  The villages we passed through we all so pretty and every cottage seemed to have roses in profusion as well as many other flowers in bloom.  Of course had I been driving I probably wouldn't have seen much of this as I'd have had to keep all my attention on the road and be ready for meeting head on a bus or tractor or even another car as the roads were often so narrow that there would have been no passing just much reversing!  In one place we passengers on the top deck looked down on two or three cars as they attempted to pass the bus folding in their mirrors and reversing to a slightly wider part of the lane and as they inched past the bus a man in an open topped Porche tooted angrily at the delay!  I thought he should take the bus instead and then he'd be more relaxed about things perhaps!!  Eventually we arrived in Kingsbridge - I don't know the actual distance we'd travelled but it was definitely slow travel and all the better for that - time to look into people's gardens, time to enjoy the views over the hedges, time to appreciate things and all whilst letting somebody else do the driving!  Brilliant.

 

My B&B here was once again up a steep hill - I wonder if Devonians are healthier from all that hill climbing!  When I reached it I was pleased to note it was even prettier than the webpage had made it look and the lady, who was actually out in her little front yard, seemed friendly and welcoming.  The above photo is of the view from my window.  She made me a pot of tea and we had a chat and after that I set off to have a walk round the town following the instructions in the tourist guide.  Firstly I wandered down to the Quay having seen photos and thought it looked lovely but sadly the tide was out and it was just mud!

As I walked up the main street I passed a shop window with this little cat asleep on one of the beds that were for sale - a good advertisement for comfort perhaps?

This is a little community garden - well looked after and quite productive I thought.

I went back to my B&B and had a shower and got ready to go out and find something to eat - by the time I got back down to the Quay the tide had come in a bit and it all looked a bit better.  Dinner was a disappointment especially after last night.  I went to a place recomended by the landlady which might have been OK but they didn't have any spare tables and suggested I might like to sit in the garden area which I did but sitting alone in a yard overlooked by the other diners on the first floor of the restaurant whilst you eat your lonely meal which was nothing to write home about was a bit embarrassing so I didn't bother with dessert or coffee but paid and left and went back to the B&B where I had a cup of coffee and ate the biscuit provided with the tea things as dessert!  All in all I decided an early night was called for!

As by now you have probably had more than enough I will stop here and do the remaining 2 days later.  If you are still with me you deserve a medal!

I must go down to the sea again!

I must go down to the sea again to the lonely sea and the sky

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by .....

I didn't want to sail away like John Masefield in his poem Sea Fever but I did want to go to the seaside again before the school holidays when the beaches will be crowded with holiday makers.  So today having been to the weekly market at Dorchester and had some lunch it being only 2.30 we decided to catch a bus (bus passes at the ready) to nearby Weymouth some 8 miles distant.

Being a beautiful day the beach was already busy and the donkeys were ready and waiting for customers - I wonder if they know how many weeks of giving rides they have ahead of them now? 

and the Punch and Judy stall all set up.

I hadn't realised that this is one of the few remaining seaside Punch and Judy shows left and although I don't like them myself and was always terrified as a child by the cackling voice of Punch as he regularly beat up his poor wife it is sad that such things are becoming so rare. (click on the photo to read the info board).

We wandered round to the old harbour where we sat over a cup of tea in one of our favourite cafes before walking back to the beach and along the Front where we caught the bus back to Dorchester where we'd left the car and were soon home.

A lovely breath of sea air- I can wait till September to visit here again now!

Down the garden path - thoughts on gardening

A recent post by CJ on Above the River (a lovely blog do pop over and visit) started me thinking about gardening and how sometimes I love it and sometimes I feel overwhelmed by it all and can quite see the appeal of a flat with a balcony and a few pots of geraniums!  When we lived in France one of the things we thought we'd like was the huge garden which was mostly grass and lots and lots of trees and shrubs - a blank canvas we thought.  We soon discovered that retirement when suddenly there are fewer hours in each day or so it seems is not the time to take on such a mamoth task and unlike when we were younger and took on an allotment covered all over with blackberry bushes taller than we were we just didn't have the physical strength nor the energy and motivation we had back then and we were too busy trying to keep on top of it all to enjoying having so much space .  So one thing we wanted when we moved back to England was a smaller garden!  Be careful what you wish for eh?

We love the fact that our garden here is bordered by a wood both for privacy and peace - I love opening the back door early in the morning and smelling the fresh green smell and hearing the birds busy singing in the trees.  No need here to plant things to attract wildlife to our garden it's all there on the other side of the fence and the wildlife visits our garden too of course.  There are badgers, squirrels, birds of every kind including owls at night and woodpeckers of the green and black varieties along with jays, robins, blackbirds thrushes and so on.  There are bats to be seen on summer evenings and occasionally a frog in the garden too as well as all the insect life and creatures busy beneath the soil.  Now obviously having all that woodland just the other side of the fence means that it is impossible to keep that border neatly weeded (let's face it we find it impossible to keep any of the garden neatly weeded!) as we now of course have even less energy than we did in France so it is just as well that we are not keen on the sort of garden that has striped lawns with borders neatly clipped and tidy rows of flowers sitting in shaped beds.  I have come to the conclusion that working with Nature rather than trying to force our ideas upon it is the way to go and so our garden is untidy and rather unruly but if we are happy with it like this does it matter? We do only what is necessary to keep it from turning into a complete wilderness such as cutting the grass (we never "mow the lawn" since ours isn't lawn but a daisy strewn grass/moss/weed patch) cut the hedge, pull a few weeds and trim here and there now and again.  Then we sit and admire our handiwork over a cup of tea on the bench!

When I said working "with Nature" here is an example of what I meant.  Our garden in France had some lovely tall foxgloves and I brought some seeds with me when we moved.  I thought that they might look good in the woodland border - but they had other ideas and decided they didn't want to compete with all that other stuff so seeded themselves on the pebbled area where I have my rotary washing line.  So now I have rigged up a heavy stone and a piece of rope tied to the arm of the line to prevent it rotating as anything longer than undies or socks is liable to decapitate the foxgloves!

We have had a garden for over 40 years and yet I feel I know no more about proper gardening now than I did before and never plan what I want and then buy the appropriate plants to fit my plan but rather shove plants in wherever there is a space or somewhere that I can actually get the trowel into the soil- it's all so hit and miss but I love the fact that our garden is planted with so many things which have a story such as these beautiful sweet peas which came to me originally as tiny wee plants carefully wrapped in damp tissue in a plastic carton posted from a friend in Surrey and which this year seem to have shinned up the netting at a rate of knots and have already given me these lovely blooms  which have a divine perfume whilst her own are apparently still being coaxed up to the first rung of the netting!  Maybe my style of gardening works after all.

These weeny strawberries do manage to survive in amongst the undergrowth along the woodland boundary and came originally from the same friend this time as a little matchbook of sticks each with a seed which you stuck in the ground and hoped would grow - this one the only one that did!

A little indoor gardening here - my salad leaves growing happily in an old ice cream carton - they'd never survive in the garden I've tried but the slugs and snails devour them.  The red plant also reminds me of a friend - this time in France who gave me some of her plant and now I have 4 pots of them this is just one and in the original terracotta post and saucer she gave me and which also had a story behind how she came by it.  Life and especially gardening life is full of stories.

I have been reading a most fascinating book - A Slow Passion - which I can really recommend.  Do click on the link for a review of what it is all about.and do read the book if you get chance - you will never look at a snail in the same way again I can promise you!  The book was informative, interesting and humourous and although the author doesn't come up with any real answer to why the snails kept eating her plants she does like me decide that perhaps all is how it should be and so the garden doesn't change but her attitude does.  A really lovely book.

Many thanks for your kind comments on my purple hair - I might do it again some time but never fear the tattoo was only a joke! 

Bohemian or country mouse?

 Thank you all for your kind birthday wishes on my last post.  As I said I was feeling very positive and ready to start on my bonus years and to that end I decided that I would stop trying to be the person I felt everyone expected me to be and instead to do what I liked (as long as it didn't hurt anyone else) and be who I wanted to be and one of the things I did was to take a leaf out of a French friend's book and become a little Bohemian and to hell with what people think.

In my youth I had always shunned bright colours not wishing to be noticed and my colours were mainly subtle greys, olives and mustards.  I never had beige but I think I was a beige person if you know what I mean?!  I lacked the confidence to go for the modern 60's fashions and colours and I lived in Sherborne too which was very conservative with a small "c" as well as a capital one and several years behind London in fashions.

As I have got older I have gained in self confidence and gradually I have chosen more colourful wardrobe as the drab shades of my youth did me no favours at all and after my birthday I had mentioned to a friend that I was thinking of dyeing my hair as some kind of statement and she was all for it and egged me on to buy the purple dye.  So I did dye my hair - not all of it just a section and I was actually quite pleased with the new me.

 

The colour was meant to last for 6 - 8 shampoos but just a week later when I washed it for the second time this was all that was left of my "statement"!  Here I am my normal mousey colour with only the faintest tint of purple left!  I hadn't realised till I took these selfies just how much grey there now is in my mouse.  So what now?  Shall I go for broke and have a tattoo instead, get it permanently coloured at the hairdresser's or sink back into my country mouse personna? I'm joking about the tattoo as I would never have the courage to have that done - it took me two attempts to get my ears pierced and I am not keen on tattoos let alone on old ladies!

Blissful bluebell birthday!

 

On 5th May 1944 this little girl was born so in 2014 she reached her 70th birthday!  What a different world she sees in the twenty first century to that which surrounded her when this picture was taken!  At that time the UK was still at war, food was rationed and times were dangerous and difficult (and photos black and white!) but of course she knew nothing about all this all she cared about was having her mother's love and affection which she had in plenty.  How times have changed - perhaps more rapidly than in any previous 70 years it's hardly surprising that some of us can't keep up with it all!  I had intended to link this post with the last one and talk about all the changes I have seen in the past 70 years but then I thought you might prefer to join me in my birthday celebrations instead?

I chose to spend my birthday walking in the bluebell woods near Eype on the south coast near Bridport and to have lunch at the quirky little cafe at Down House Farm.  What a wonderful way to spend a special day - I can honestly say it was the best birthday ever!  Join me on my day out if you fancy a walk in beautiful countryside.

  

Having parked the car we set off on our walk through the village and then along the South West Coast Path - sometimes the sun came through and sometimes not as we made our way along the cliff tops - not getting too near the edge remembering what had happened to the coastline during the winter!

After about an hour we reached the cafe we were headed for - it was only just mid-day but we decided to eat whilst the going was good and the cafe garden not completely full of others out on the Bank Holiday in the fine weather.

Here is the cafe hidden amongst the plants.

It was hard to chose from the extensive menu...

...but we both chose the fish pie with salad and very tasty it was too eaten in the sunshine of the pretty courtyard.

After lunch we set off for the woods - I loved the way these pretty harts' tongue ferns curled at the tips as they unfurled as did the bracken fronds we noticed too looking for all the world like little sea horse tails I thought!

Our path led along here and we were thrilled with the bluebells we saw but another couple walking the opposite way said that they were even better further up the path.

And indeed they were!  I had never seen quite so many and all that indredible blue which is so difficult to capture and the faint perfume filling the air.  I got a bit carried away with the camera!

We walked for miles and always there were bluebells with an occasional glimpse of the sea a different blue.

They were of course our native bluebells not Spanish ones which are quite different and not this amazing colour see here for more on bluebells and how to tell the difference.

Some were flowering in the open as if they too wanted to enjoy the distant views.

And here and there a crab apple with its lovely blossom - in the distance you can see Golden Cap - not so golden in this picture as the sun wasn't shining on it at that moment - the highest point on the south coast of England.

Back into the woodland again and still the ground was carpeted with the bluebells.

Pure santosha - a walking meditation!

Until eventually we left the woods to come out onto a narrow road which we then followed noticing the number of different wildflowers growing in the verges.

 I noticed bluebells, cow parsley, buttercups, primroses, violets, red campion, purple bugle, yellow deadnettle, periwinkle,and celandines to name but a few.  Unless on foot one rarely notices just how many flowers there are alongside a road.  Somewhere however we must have taken a wrong turn and we came out onto a main road which we had to walk along for a while till we were able to get back onto a footpath - not to be recommended on a Bank Holiday Monday or at any other time I dare say!  Scary with no pathway and no verges either!

We reached home about 5.00 a little later than I had expected and I hastily set forth to ice the Half and Half cake I had made the previous day.  Half and Half cake since my favourite is coffee walnut sponge which Mr M doesn't care for so I had made up a sponge mixture and put half of the mix in one sponge tin and added walnuts to the remaining half to use in the second tin.  When cooked I cut each one in half to be sandwiched together with coffee icing for my walnut one and chocolate for Mr M's half - I'd never win a prize for my cake decorating skills and certainly not if done at great speed whilst waiting for the kettle to boil!

We enjoyed a well earned sit down with our cuppas and a slice of cake each - no candles but a little silver Happy Birthday plaque which I have had for years - no expense spared here when it comes to birthday celebrations!!!

Reaching 70 seemed to me to be more significant than any of the other "Big O" birthdays or even the 21st that had come before - not sure why.  It is definitely not the beginning of the end but bonus time which I intend to use to the full and it is with a positive feeling of new beginnings that I am moving onward and I thought how lucky I am to have reached my three score years and ten and be fit and able to walk for hours, to have my birthday in May the lovliest month of the year, to live in this wonderful part of the country with places like this if not actually on my doorstep then near at hand and to have Mr M who had his 70th years ago fit and well enough to be able to join me on my walks - lucky girl eh?!

Thank you all for your comments on my previous post - I am glad I am not the only one who finds computers a complete mystery!