In Eypes

From the loveliness of today's accommodation, a view of the Dorset countryside, from my room:




I will tell the not nice story of yesterday's hotel experience, naming no names, because, like I said, it is not nice! The owner, a very kind man, had the worst teeth I have ever seen. His front teeth were huge, widely spaced, crooked—maybe because some of the side teeth were missing—and completely rotten. And.....hate to say it, but when he spoke, it did not smell so good!

The establishment itself was hardly inviting, not horrible, but wouldn't be anyone's first or even second choice. Go up stairs, go up more stairs. My room is in a converted attic. Stifling, and dirty, and you had to walk bent over lest you whack your head on the steeply slanted ceiling. Carpet covered with stains, a chair with dirty, stained and ripped upholstery, small window with lots of bird excrement on it, and it opened only a little bit, a toilet whose flusher was not well attached, and a shower that offered no hot water, although there was a big, heavy towel. There was a fan, thank God!

Was relieved to take off in the morning, even though the walk began with two major diversions. This meant almost six miles of road walking, a lot of it uphill, and it was hot. Do not be deceived by a name like Shanbarrow Lane! Shanbarrow Lane is a long, steep, asphalt hill. But finally, when you do emerge into countryside, like in the picture above, all is forgiven and you are filled with joy once again!

I actually sat down and had a snack here:





Some of the countryside is showing its fall colours:




A bridge to nowhere:





Good night!


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Location:Eypes

Lucky day!

Why lucky? Because when I left, the wet ground was a clue that it had rained last night, night being the time when all rain should fall—and the sky looked like this:



and it was windy. So, was more rain blowing in or was it blowing away? It was blowing away!

First ascent of the day on these decorated steps....and there were quite a few of them:



The local yacht club:




Signage time! I do think that ducks with butterflies on their backs would be a most unusual sight. Alas, no ducks were sighted even without butterflies:




Don't say you were not told!


Especially amusing about that sign is that it was at a golf club car park, but there were no warning signs about stray balls that could land you a nasty blow.

The famous underhill walk about which these graphics warn is not terribly difficult...a few steep climbs, lots of steps, some muddy parts, and no place to exit. What the sign should say is "Don't wear your damn flipflops on this walk!" (Because people do!):





I visited the museum in Lyme Regis where I saw this early model of a............



FIRE ENGINE!

There were lots of exhibits about former town worthies, but I want to tell you about one: Sir George Somers, 1554-1610, who is credited with having "discovered" Bermuda, though that was not his intention. What happened was that In 1609, Sir George was leading an expedition to Virginia to bring supplies to the struggling colony. But his ship was caught in a hurricane as it neared the coast of America. Oh no! He spied some land, but it was the dreaded island of, yes, Bermuda, thought to be in habited by bad spirits, but his ship got hung up on some rocks, so he had no choice but to go ashore. (How, is not clear.) On the island, the crew found fresh water and an abundance of food, especially "fishe, hogges and fowl." (Fish, on land?)

Well, the captain and his men spent ten months on the island, using salvage from their ship and Bermuda cedar and built two ships on which they then set sail to Virginia where they did discover that most of the inhabitants had succumbed to famine or disease. When supplies ran low again, Sir George returned to Bermuda to restock. However, on Nov. 9, 1610, he died of "a surfeit of eating of a pig." (Maybe now, "Don't be a pig," will take on a whole new meaning.) And one other thing: the story of this shipwreck is thought to have inspired the shipwreck in The Tempest. (Maybe, maybe not.)

The beach in Lyme Regis was crowded, mucha mucha gente:




There is a large park with some sculptures. My favorite:


No, not the Mad Hatter. It is actually titled Hareman.

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Location:Lyme Regis

From Sidmouth to Beer

Last night stayed in a "hotel" (it was really a pub+rooms) that smelled of frying fish with maybe some boiling broccoli mixed in. If you closed the window, that lessened the noise of the kitchen fan and cut down on the odor, but then the room was hot and stuffy. Fortunately, there was a window in the bathroom! Maybe some air that way? Open that window to find dead, pulled apart sea gull and other detritus, and many gulls—living, screeching ones— hovering around. Oh, no! A bird may fly into the room. Dealt with the smell. Now tonight, I have a gorgeous room in a sweet hotel in an adorable town.

Beautiful walk today! Notice the quite red colour of the water close to shore:




But all the water looks silverwhen the sun hits it just so early-ish in the morning:



Wonder if this is supposed to be like Donald Trump "just being sarcastic:"



Here is my question: Is Fuzzy Duck the name of the dog?



Part of the walk was an undercliff walk. It was quite spectacular:



Visited the Beer Quarry Caves, which are not really caves, but are huge hollowed out areas from which the lime stone has been cut out. This window from a cathedral, which one, yo no sé, but it does show the colour of the limestone:



Rock has been extracted form this quarry at least since Roman times. Working in the quarry was a life no better than working in a mine.

It isn't really light like this:



It is darker than this:



Bats hibernate in these quarries, but there were none there today! I am not sure if I was relieved or disappointed!

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Location:Beer

The forecast

Yesterday, en route to the ferry to Exmouth, a sun-dried guy, maybe 50, but looked 80, coming the other way, asked me if I was walking the path. "Yes," I said. "So am I," he said. "I took today off because of the rain," he added. "It is supposed to be much worse tomorrow. Why don't you sit it out?" "I do not sit out," I thought to myself. "I am a woman on a mission. I do not sleep in TENT. I have destinations to reach!" But I smile, and acknowledge his suggestion, and, by the way, I have no idea whether or not he is camping, and I worry.

Get to hotel. Check weather report. It is terrible, dire, one might say. Heavy rain and severe wind. Yellow (or was it orange) wind alert. Water activities cancelled. Thunder at times. This is not good. The route notes describe the spray blowing in your face as a matter of course. Will I be able to walk, as in put one foot in front of the other, against the force of the wind? Will I be blown off the sea wall or a cliff?

Get up early, as things are supposed to become REALLY BAD by noon. Maybe I can beat the forces of nature. I have a plan. I will wear Pertex wind shirt, which has been biding its time in my pack for a moment such as this. I will will wear poncho-that-doubles-as-tent, and rain pants, and stupid orange gators (very bad fashion choice, that). I will face the elements with fortitude.

6:45 a.m. It is raining only a little. The wind is not bad. Keep on the outer garments. IT WILL COME. I will be prepared. Only it gets hotter and more humid, and I am sweating in my costume. Eventually, I can stand it no longer. Take off the poncho and wind shirt, and rain pants. Fifteen minutes later, all of a sudden, it begins to pour.

Took some shots of gorgeous red rock formations, only to discover later that I, having left the SD card in the card reader last night due to excessive anxiety no doubt, had no photos!

Don't you wish you had a pair like this?



Visited Sidmouth Museum where I did meet ye town crier of yore in his snazzy uniform:



This doll is named Rosie (honest), And she has a story. She arrived in Sidmouth with her owner, a little girl, who had been evacuated from London in 1940:




You should hear these waves crash! The sounds and smells along the way are wonderful:




The local RNLI station was open. Here is dude asking for donations:



And dude-ess, too. Or is she showing off her nail polish?



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Location:Sidmouth

Five dogs and rain

It was bound to happen: rain. Everything is harder in the rain, not least is figuring out where to go. Also, walking through woods, while a treat on a hot day, is just dark in the pouring rain. By and by, as I was approaching a clearing, I heard barking and a second later, five dogs bounded toward me. Guess how much I loved that! As their owner passed by me, he said, "You scared them." Guess what I wanted to tell him!

There were two long wonderful sections of sea wall to walk on today. Loved that part. Before the sea wall, there was some great outside-in-the-park art in Teignmouth, but because of the rain, I could not take any pictures. Sad.

There were also two ferry rides. The first, from Chaldon to Teignmouth, is, apparently, the oldest ferry route in England. The rain was letting up, so I took two photos. Here is the ferry pulling right up to the beach.....no ferry slip for this honey. You just walk up the gangway:





And here is a front view of proud captain Dave



View from the sea wall:



The sun came out in the afternoon for the ferry ride to Exmouth:


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Location:Exmouth

Back to the HIlls

Leaving Dartmouth on the car ferry. Why not the passenger ferry? Because the car ferry begins its run a half hour earlier:



Reminders of the war are many. There was a series of plaques at the ferry slip:



Didn't look dangerous to me:




View:




Young people playing cricket on the beech:




The Golden Hind....a replica, bien sur, and a real beauty she is:



At the Brixham museum, inter alia, you can learn some interesting facts about life on board a fishing ship:




Then it is nice to go back to your B and B and take a hot shower, have something to eat, and get into a comfortable bed (except the bed in this case was not so wonderful, though definitely superior to the ones described above).


A ge -u-ine fog horn:


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Location:Brixham

Final Rest Day

The other property to see—in addition to Coleton Fishacre—is Greenway, Agatha Christie's country House and gardens. To get there, you take a different ferry and for a pleasant half hour, cruise up the busy River Dart, and voila, there you are! This house has a lot of STUFF, and depending on your interests, you will be fascinated or mildly ho-hummed after a while.

This bouquet is made of shells



A collection of boxes:




My favorite was a whole bunch of miniature woven strips that were designed as name tapes. The detail is so fine:



Couldn't take a lot of pictures because you aren't suppose to use a flash, and the flash on my camera goes off all the time, and there were lots of people in the rooms, so I had to shoot where I could, like here:



What is striking about that toilet is that it seems rather quaint for the 1950's.

The gardens were large and beautiful, but did not have the exuberance of those at Coleton Fishacre.

Mother and child:




Tree branch:



Dancing flowers:



To return, my plan had been to walk 30 minutes to the steam train, take that to Kinsgwear and the ferry back to Dartmouth. But not surprisingly, it did not work out that way. I started on the steep route to the train (a moderate route was also possible) and in about ten minutes, the signs for the train were gone and in their place was "Kingswear three miles." Nice day, so why not walk back. Keep going for a while and a sign emerges "Kingswear three and a half miles." Confused, I shrug and follow this brand new set of signs. Walk and walk and walk, and the signs STOP at an intersection with a major road. Follow major road down, meet a man and his wife, chit chat, and they tell me I can get to Kingswear by going up some steps and so on. So I do until those signs stop and paths are going all over the place. The half hour walk turned into a two+ hour meander, but back I got, and went immediately to the Dartmouth Museum, where I saw a thirty minute film, all authentic footage, about preparations for D-Day. Most of the movie was about the Americans who were sent here to train. It was quite emotional, and I was sorry that there was not more time to spend in the museum, but it was closing time.

View of the Dart on the way back from Greenway:



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Location:Dartmouth

Dartmouth

On the way, which was like a treasure hunt, the route being so convoluted, a stone bridge;



There were only about eleven miles to cover today, so I arrived in Dartmouth shortly after noon—after a pause at Dartmouth Castle where I actually sat down and had a piece of delicious cake, but decided I did not want to spend a lot of time looking at guns and fortifications, so did not linger longer—and headed immediately for the tourist information center. I told the lady that I like gardens and art and wanted to see Coleton Fishacre. "Might there be such a conveyance as a taxi?" I asked, because walking would take too much time. As luck would have it, there is one taxi in Kingswear, a short ferry ride across the Dart River, and yes, the one taxi driver would pick me up in a while and take me to the house. Off to the ferry, waited a bit for the guy, and not only did he show up, we made a deal that he would take me back to the ferry, and he suggested that I leave my pack and boots in the trunk (or boot if you want to be British about it). I did! Unencumbered I toured the house and gardens of D'oyly Carte.

Built and furnished in the 1920's, it was quite different from, say, Lanhydrock:



It was light and airy, with inviting, simple—relatively speaking—furnishings. You were allowed to touch many things and move about the rooms: no velvet cordons keeping you at the entry just peeking in. It had a happy feel to it.

Things have changed since M'Lord and M'Lady had completely separate quarters:



Even the maids' areas were hugely improved:



I would love to have this kitchen, including the leaded glass windows:



The gardens were vibrant and extensive:




With some quiet spots, too:



Even the garden art was fun:



It was a glorious afternoon, and proof that getting going early in the morning can pay off by giving you time to do the extras you might otherwise miss!

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Location:Dartmouth