Onto Dartmoor we go, holiday part 2

So I left you intrepid readers at the close of the day on Friday with a full two days of adventures still to go. Saturday morning we awoke to see overcast skies and the promise of rain. Hey we thought, it only looks like rain and we are on holiday it won't rain.

Yes, I admit it, we were wrong. We had walked into Torquay and the heavens opened. As my boots filled with water and Sam whipped her pac mac out we decided even with shops to shelter in enough was enough, we beat a hasty retreat back to the house, only stopping to sample the local cream tea at cafe Driftwood (essential, when in Devon...). In the evening (it was very much still raining) a girlie film was selected (in this case the excellent romance and clothes drama, the devil wears Prada, and we took the car to Drakes fish & chip shop and acquired some most excellent fish & chips. An early night was decided upon as it just wouldn't stop raining. After a night of blissful rest (I think it was the food, or the bottle of red that somehow mysteriously appeared next to it) we awoke to clear skies (hooray, house high five). We decided to make the most of the day and headed off to what my father refers to as 'the Blackpool of the south'. Ladies & Gentlemen I give you Paignton Pier in all its glory.





















And what a time was had, we gained (and lost) a fortune on the 2 penny slots, had our fortune told by a wind up gypsy (who I was clearly a bit too much for as I broke her and had to go and find a repair man) and had a go on the infamous grab machines. Our kid (my youngest brother) is a dab hand at these things and his absence was keenly felt at Paignton, I was useless but Sam managed to bag a care bear for herself and a pilchard cat (its the blue cat from Bob the builder) for me. Clutching our new prizes and a handful of rock/clotted cream fudge for housemates and workmates alike we headed into the wilderness of Dartmoor.





















Our first destination (and pretty much the only destination I know how to get too on Dartmoor) was the excellent Rock inn (http://www.rock-inn.co.uk/). Its quite near the outskirts but its still pretty desolate. It was a 16th century coaching inn, and the character has remained despite the changing times (when we were outside the low light made us wonder whether it was actually open). It is also reputedly the local pub of choice for folk heart throb and local lad Seth Lakeman, although I've been in there a few times (and embarrassingly my mum asked if the barmaids knew him) we've had no luck from either tactic. Not sure what I'd say to him if I did see him in there to be honest so we won't dwell. After having a drink (Jail ale, which is brewed on Dartmoor for me and a ginger beer for the lady/driver) we headed off in search of Sunday afternoon's goal. Jay's grave. This story has been told many times, most recently possibly on the aforementioned Seth's 2nd album, Kitty Jay.The story goes that Jay was a local orphaned baby back in the late eighteenth century, 1790 is the most common estimate. She was taken into the Poor House at Newton Abbot where she was named, as was the custom, with a surname beginning with whatever letter the Poor House had progressed to, in this case 'J'. As many of the commoner letters had been taken the baby girl ended up with 'Jay'. In those days the word 'Jay' was also a slang term for a prostitute so the Christian name of Mary was added. She was taken in by a local farming estate to work for them, which reputedly is where she got the name of Kitty. However trouble was afoot, the landowners son took a bit of a shine to her and had his wicked way. With a name like Jay it was easy for the farmer who was her employer to condemned her, saying she had thrown herself at his son. Before she knew what was happening she was pregnant by the farmers son and being cast out onto the moors by his father. Kitty knew that her prospects of future employment were ruined, she would have to go back to the poor house. She wandered for a while cold and alone, before taking the only route left apart from the poor house and hanging herself in one of the barns. She was buried, as all suicides of that time were, at a crossroads, so that if her spirit came back to haunt those who had caused her suicide it would be confused by the crossed paths. We took a few flowers from my parents back garden and went to pay our respects. After quite a few wrong turns we found what we were looking for





















The grave of a young girl.




















By this time the moors were brooding and it looked like more (ohh I've done it again, more/moor, this time not intentional, honest) heavy rain was on its way so we escaped while we still could.




















Back to the comfort and dryness of the house to do the washing up, packing up and enjoying our final night in Devon. Monday morning dawned at last and we packed the car, but there was one more treat to brighten our way back to the heartland of Oxfordshire. On the way back we stopped off at Glastonbury and visited Glastonbury Abbey.





















The ruins at the Abbey are really special and there was a lot more information there/things to see than at Berry Pomroy.






















Although once again we got lost looking for graves (the body count on this trip really was quite high now I think of it). Anyway here is the supposed tomb of King Arthur (my old medieval teacher would have you believe he's was, and in fact still is in Glastonbury Torre) . The sign says the following "Site of King Arthur's Tomb. In the year 1101 the bodies of King Arthur and his Queen were said to have been found on the South side of the lady chapel (the corner pictured above). On April 10th 1278 their remains were removed in the presence of King Edward and Queen Elanor to a black Marble Tomb on this site. This Tomb survived until the dissolution of the Abbey in 1539."




And here it is marked by an outline of stones.








And that concluded our trip of the South. We returned home Sam to her houseshare, me to Dave the housemate and a very put out Mabel cat. It was a great holiday though.

Short summer holiday

So the weekend just gone Sam and I headed to the coast. The coast in Devon that is, sea is pretty much the only thing that Oxford is missing so we went to see it (see/sea what I did there?). We drove down straight after work on the Thursday night, which was a bit of a rush at the time but let us have nearly 4 days of holiday for 2 dats annual leave. Wooo! The drive down was further enhanced by the stretched daylight of the summer months, an awesome 'we are on holiday' CD that Sam had created and the fact that we passed Stonehenge!

Sam did actually ask me what made a henge a henge before we went, I think she lived to regret it, so we won't get into that....

First priority on Friday morning (after a resonable lie in of course) was the local beach. This was unfortunately the only day of sun but it was just enough & it didn't take us long to kick off our shoes & infiltrate the waves.

We walked down to the beach (there is a zigzag path that fortunately gently decends the cliff) and did plan to walk back up the assent, but as Babbacombe has a most awesome cliff railway it seemed churlish not to use it...

After our morning on the beach we went to grab an ice cream (alas no photo's, too busy with hefty scoopful of strawberry, containing REAL strawberries). In the afternoon we headed to one of my favourite places Totnes. I think the reaon I like it so much is that the arts scene is so vibrant there. We had tea at Grey's which is a wonderful old fashioned tea room at the top of Totnes hill.

This was a special treat for me as I've walked past it so many times with my parents but it has always full. It being a Friday though they had room. After we had spent a good few hours (and pounds, we found the most amazing vintage shop there too) we went to Berry Pomroy Castle.

This was Sam's suggestion as she had read it was the most haunted castle in Britain.

I have to say the castle definitely had a spooky air about it with lots of winding passages/dark corners and its fair share of grizzly history. We didn't see any ghost but thanks to the atmospheric ravens I managed to collect a fair few black feathers. Back to the house for an early night ready for another two days of adventures.

Weekend in London with Zoe & Steve

So this weekend I headed back to the smoke that used to be my home to visit old work colleague and awesome friend Zoe. We had lots of cultural things lined up like a writers walking tour around london, an exhibition of Charles Dickens that kind of thing. Our big mistake (and I see it now) was meeting in the John Lewis on Oxford Street. I promptly headed for the hebadashery department and pretty much from there on in we were DOOMED! I managed to get some very pretty cotton fabric for making a sun dress for our lastest new arrival Freya (daughter of Bec's & Dan who were in the photo's of May day), after John Lewis we headed for Topshop where I promptly fell in love with a strappy folky top. However I'm afraid it had to stay where it was as it had the magic Kate Moss label in it and I didn't like it that much... We headed down Berwick street to grab a bite to eat at my fave cafe don there and pop in on all the ex HMV'ers at Sister Ray. We also found a fabulous hat shop where I found the perfect top hat (just a cheap one, no lining or anything). It was slightly damaged round the rim meaning it fit my little head perfectly. I tried the 'ye old bartering trick' that always seems to work for my mum (I think they let her get away with it, she still has the slight school teacher edge to her voice that generally unnerves most people) anyway I clearly haven't inherited it as it didn't work for me... But I have great plans for the hat adding magpie feathers to the outside and maybe attaching a few beads as well.

I'd taken Zoe some Oxfordshire produce, a few leaves from our monsterous swiss chard plant, a few chives and flowers to put in salads, some eggs from Trish's chickens and some rubarb. The main point of this visit was not to shop but check out the flat that Zoe & Steve are now renting together (aww I'm so happy for them but they should have done it ages ago, everyone could see how besotted they were with each other). Steve is a great chap, as well as being very nice he is also a very keen gardener. He sent me home with a plant that he'd grown from a cutting and one of the nicest moments of the weekend was when he showed me a plant he'd started growing when Zoe & him started daing. All together now Awwwww.

Their housewarming present from me & witchcat was a squid whisk (this is an in joke possibly too complex to go into here) and a spurtle (Zoe got very intregued by mine last time she came to visit & I maintain no home should be without one!). The squid whisk was put to great use on the Sat night being used for preperations of various cocktails (Steve's other brilliant talent) and we stayed in watched film the wedding crashers and got nicely tipsy. Zoe used tolive in Tooting and where they have moved to now is a lot nicer. On Sunday morning they walked me to the tube station across lots of fields where multiple games of football were being kicked off. Despite not achieving that much sight wise I had a lovely weekend. It's their turn to come to me next (hopefully bringing with them a Harmonium that Zoe very kindly offered to pick up for me). My only hope is that it doesn't rain, last time they came it was sheeting it down...