A couple of fine sloops:
The walk started with a ferry ride across the estuary to East Portlemouth. Normally the ferry begins its runs at 8:00 a.m., but this being Sunday, the first departure was at 8:30. This is not good for my routine! Usually by 8:30 I have about four miles under my feet, but there were no other options. At least I had company while waiting:
The ferryman did show up on time and the ride was less than five minutes. It was a long, hot day, though...16 miles. Those last miles feel a lot longer as the afternoon wears on.
Stones lined up like grave stones. They look more convincing from the other side but the light was wrong to shoot from there!
Can you see the sailboats in the distance?
What was of note here was the two sets of cliffs. Cliffs in the back, flat land, then another set of not very high cliffs. Wondering about the formation of that phenomenon:
Beach art in Torcross:
A perfect day for flying:
A memorial in Slapton:
Lots of Americans trained here—and many were killed in training exercises— for D-Day because the beaches are like those in Normandy. In fact, on November 13, 1943, villagers and farmers in the village were given six weeks to pack up everything they owned, including livestock and crops and move outside the area which was to be requisitioned for D-Day practice. 750 families in all (this included some neighboring villages) were evacuated by the 29th of December. Most of the cattle were simply killed, and many of the villagers never returned.
Now we come to this charming village, stay at a place called Tower Inn—because it sits right next to this ruined fragment of a church that Henry VIII had destroyed—and that traumatic time is hard to imagine:
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Location:Slapton
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