“It was beautiful coastline. The sky was blue and the sun warm. We looked for basking adders but had to make do with a slow worm…”
“We ummed and ahhed over which walk to do. L flatly refused the 5 miler that was described in the book as ‘some of the most treacherous bog on Dartmoor in bad weather’. It wasn’t bad weather but having experienced more bog than we cared to endure in a lifetime, we opted for a more gentle walk along the river Plym through old clay quarries up to Dewerstone“.
“…We caught the Park and Ride from Coypool into Plymouth to explore the ‘Ocean City’. First impressions: grimy, durgy, unattractive. We walked to the Plymouth Hoe, down to the lido and past the crumbling features of what I think are the remains of concrete Victorian beach huts built into the cliff face (see picture below to illustrate…).
…We spent the remainder of the afternoon in the National Marine Aquarium gawping at moray eels, upside down and moon jellyfish, baby sharks wriggling in their egg cases and frog fish that look exactly like pieces of coral. I loved it”
“Bright blue skies! Off to the seaside at Beesands, a very quaint and quiet village with a huge pebble beach. We followed yet more of the SW coastal path over to Torcross where we lowered the average age of the tourists by about 40 years. Torcross butts up to Slapton Ley, a freshwater lake separated from the sea by a pebble beach…”
Excerpt from my diary entry 25th June:
“Give me a pebble beach and like a child, I feel compelled to collect the most perfectly round pebbles I can find. I LOVE pebble beaches but by the end of our walk, my rucksack was laden and my shoulders groaned under the weight of my collection…”
Today I must mention that it’s my parents 40th Wedding Anniversary! How fabulous is that? Happy Anniversary Mum and Dad – in it for the long haul!!
“Up on to Dartmoor today via several stops for Amy to gawp at horses and take photos. We a parked at the Postbridge information centre to start the rather boggy walk up to some standing stones with picturesque views of the moors. We ended up meandering around a peat bog for a bit before giving up and following a wall to the obligatory water feature challenge of the holiday…” NB. We often find ourselves traversing fast flowing water courses on our expeditions.
“I think L has underplayed The Bog. We were walking for 8.5 miles and for at least 5 of those miles we were ankle deep in bog. At one point we found ourselves lost in the middle of a vast expanse of moorland (as far as the eye could see) with no visible path in sight. I was secretly calculating our water rations in case we started to sink into the stinky, relentless bog and had to wait for rescue…”
I must mention that today is my mum’s birthday. Happy Birthday Mum!
“We’re sitting in the Pilchard Inn, a tiny pub perched on the edge of Burgh Island, home to a posh hotel where you can stay for a mere £400-600 per night. If you want to come by helicopter, there is a convenient helipad in the grounds. The ‘Rif Raf’ are welcome on the island but only if they walk across the sand bar when the tide is out or catch the giant sea tractor…
We walked from Ringmore along the SW coastal path dotted with flowers and pretty grasses. The winds were high but they blew the forecast showers over our heads and inland. L has become adept at simultaneously pointing out wildlife and dangerous obstacles…”
We recently returned from a great holiday in Devon and Cornwall. Not usually ones for taking a summer holiday in the UK (due to unpredictable weather) we decided to risk it this year and it paid off. Clear skies, turquoise seas, belting sunshine, rolling moorland, white beaches – If you could always guarantee weather like this, who needs to go abroad, there is so much to see right here?
As always we kept a running commentary of the holiday by way of a diary and this year I aimed to draw a cartoon a day to supplement the entries. For the next few days I’m going to share a few short extracts from the diary and a quick cartoon. Don’t expect beautifully penned, Wordsworth-esq, descriptions of the holiday. Sadly, I lack the vocabulary to paint a picture, instead, I draw cartoons.
When I travel, I tend to keep a diary. Occasionally, I try to draw cartoons based on an entry – it’s good practice and provides some inspiration. This is a reflection on my recent flight from Calgary to London. I failed to draw the man reading a ‘Guns and Ammo’ magazine who was on the verge of using the baby as target practice. I did feel sorry for the baby as it obviously wasn’t well. Its parents tried incredibly hard to pacify it, but the combined experience of being shoehorned into a seat, subjected to the tinny sound of ineffectual headphones from the man sitting next to me AND a crying baby, made for a horrific journey.