Week Two: Camping!

I may have mentioned (banged on about) the fact that we’d bought a bell tent to camp in.  It was every bit as fabulous as we’d hoped.  It kept us dry, warm and was actually a little bit glam once we’d decked the insides out with some bunting, rugs and blankets.

We camped at the Camping and Caravanning Club site in Slapton, south Devon, which was great.  Really flat (not a given in south Devon, trust me) and the people who ran it were very nice.  The kids opposite could have done with some discipline and there could have been some more showers as I hate queuing (what do women do in there??!!) but those are minor quibbles.

Slapton itself is a very quaint little village, which we found out the hard way, coming through after dark on the tiny, windy lanes.  No joke, this is the ‘passing place’, where the car going in one direction can pull in to let the car going in the opposite direction past…  I could barely fit my bicycle in there!  Good job then that we had the tiniest car I’ve ever seen, we saw Range Rovers parked up in the lanes but I can only assume they were parachuted in.

We had an amazing Sunday lunch at The Tower Inn thanks to a recommendation from my friend Lia who’s a bit of a camping trail-blazer amongst my friends and recommended Slapton to me, stating that the Tower Inn was her ‘favourite pub’.  If you knew Lia you’d know that’s some recommendation.

We went for a bit of a nature walk around ley, basically an expanse of fresh water, separated form the sea by a thin stretch of land.  We saw some deserted buildings which I poked about in a bit, some beautiful butterflies and generally congratulated ourselves on camping in a very good spot,

We then hit the beach where Sam swam, I snoozed and the sun shone.  Perfecto.

We indulged in a few other activities while we were there, including walking up the coast to Torcross and seeing the Shermann tank there to commemorate the lives lost in one of the D-Day landings run thoughs called Operation Tiger.  Whilst practising landing on the beach the convoy was attacked by U-boats and a numer of the tanks sank, taking their crews with them.  This tank was rescued from the sea to act as monument.

We also went for a sit on the lovely beach at Blackpool Sands, which is a private beach nearby.  This does mean they charge you £6 to go in though.  Hmm…not sure about that to be honest but it was lovely and we did pick up a boules set, a game at which I excel apparently, and a mini-Jenga set, which I do not suck at as badly as I’d thought I would.

The weather wasn’t all good unfortunately so we took a trip to Dartmouth and had a wander round, explored the castle (lots of guns) and had a cream tea.  Well, when in Rome after all.

Mostly though it was blissfully relaxing, we explored the coast, hit up some tourist sites and retired to the tent every night for dinner.  We even managed a thai green curry on the trusty trangia.  No worries though for those of you aware of my issues with co-ordination, I sat on the bed very far away whilst Sam dealt with the flames and cooking.

I’m back at work now and it all seems like a lovely dream…  We came back to a very busy but fun weekend of skateboarding competitions, birthday parties and lazy Sunday lunches and are now in work mode again.  Bah.

Off to the Isla d’Blanca this arvo though so that’s some consolation!

Walk

On our last day in the gorgeous holiday flat Sam and I decided to head off for a walk around Mortehoe Point that we’d been planning on doing all week.  It’s National Trust, Jim, but not as we know it….ie there was NO tea shop.  Pah.

The National Trust website describes this bit as, “Gorse and heather covered headland to the north of Woolacombe Bay. A Site of Special Scientific Interest, renowned for its wild beauty and treacherous seas.”  Note the capitalisation if you please.

Anyone who knows me at all will know that I'm not a massive fan of Walking (with a capital W) but after the first fifteen minutes where it was a bit windy, drizzly and mucky (sheep live there) it was actually quite good fun.  The coastline is pretty spectacular and I was surprised to discover there were actually lots of types of plants surviving out on the windswept points.

There were also some cool rocks, which helpfully demonstrate the strength of the wind…

We saw plenty of wildlife too.  There was the aforementioned sheep, seals frolicking in the sea (too far away to be pictured without a proper paparazzi style lens) and plenty of walkers with their special shoes, cagoules and walking sticks.  Not to mention their picnics of which I was slightly jealous as I was a bit peckish but really, it’s not that far and they were a bit unnecessary, we managed in hoodies, jeans and brogues (me)/skate shoes (Sam) without much trouble.

Once we’d walked round the point we were able to climb up high and see the village of Mortehoe and Woolacombe Bay beach.

After the Walk we poked about a bit in the shops of Mortehoe, discovering my favourite named beer ever, Exmoor Beast.  I tend to buy wine on the strength of how much the label amuses me but with beer it always just seems a little less advisable…

Tunnels Beaches, Ilfracombe

Whilst in Woolacombe/ Mortehoe I campaigned and won a trip to Ilfarcombe to check out the tunnel beaches.  

These are an amazing insight into the social conventions of the Victorian era.  Carved out of the rock in the 1820s, a series of tunnels lead down to two (originally 3) different beaches where men and women were able to bathe separately.  The women using wooden bathing carriages, which would be rolled out into the water and back in again, using horses, to protect their modesty – never mind the fact that they were on a secluded beach wearing head to toe outfits! 

The tunnels themselves are mostly still standing and are actually quite nice, wide and high, mind you they had to be in order to get carriages and horses down them – god forbid a Victorian lady would have to walk (gasp!).

The building of the tunnels helped to transform Ilfracombe from a seaside fishing village, with a healthy sideline in smuggling along the coves, to a hot-spot for Victorian leisure seekers.  Prior to the building of the tunnels apparently the town had, had five recorded visitors EVER.  So yep, the local economy definitely got a boost!  The town itself is full of beautiful Victorian style guest houses and well worth a wander.

Those enterprising Victorians even added a bath house where the faint of heart could enjoy the ‘benefits’ of the sea water at a less chilly temperature.  This once housed the boiler /pumphouse for heating the water up and getting it to the baths.  How civilised!

There were guides to Victoian etiquette up on the walls such as, “Gentlemen unaccustomed to the management of a boat should never venture out with ladies. To do so is foolhardy, if not criminal.”  Indeed!  And this sartorial advice, “The ordinary rowing costume for gentlemen is white flannel trousers, white rowing jersey and a straw hat. Peajackets are worn when their owners are not absolutely employed in pulling the oar.”  Awesomeness.

Needless to say that while I was geeking out and reading the guidebook whilst sitting on the beach the menfolk were off in their wetsuits swimming.  Not exactly Baywatch but at least they made it back in one piece – having read all the horror stories of people drowning at Ilfracombe this was something of a relief!

After a short period of resting on deckchairs (it’s knackering reading...) and some restorative hot chocolates (chilly too) we headed back to the lovely flat. 

Woolacombe and Mortehoe, the holiday begins!

The summer is here (apparently) and it’s time for a holiday.  Yes, yes I know I’m always jetting off somewhere or other but this was a proper holiday, for TWO WHOLE WEEKS, not just a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it city break.  I haven’t taken a two week holiday since I was a kid, unless you count travelling, which I don’t as it’s not relaxing. 

The first week of our holiday was spent in a beautiful flat in between the village of Mortehoe and the small town of Woolacombe on the north Devon coast.  As the views from the lounge balcony show it was a pretty stunning place.

The first few days were spent sleeping (me) and swimming and surfing (menfolk) but we did manage to take in a few nice meals at the local pubs, 

whilst stuffing pennies into the fireplace,

try a few of the local ales,

laugh at some of the local surf shops (giant Uggs anyone?),

and check out Woolacombe beach on the one nice day of sunshine.  The beach, as you can see, was a little over crowded so we stayed up on the grassy knoll above it and got nice and burnt there instead.  Apparently I will never learn that my vampirical skin + sunshine = ouch.

Woolacombe wasn’t really my scene, a bit touristy, lots of inflatable boats, comedy hoodies and suchlike.  Mortehoe was tiny in comparison, one church, two pubs, 5 shops and a handful of houses and was really lovely to potter about, we even checked out the local craft fair – I’m a bit spoilt by the ones I go to in London though and this was definitely a bit erm, more local.

This gem caught my eye though.  Who doesn’t need their very own knitted nativity scene?!