Devon 17

Saturday sees Debbie, Lily-Rose and myself have a fairly early start for the long drive to Combe Martin where our cottage is. Rather in Kentisbury just near Blackmoor Gate. Lovely white cottage with big rooms including lounge, dining and games room with table football so plenty of space for us to spread out. Big old Aga stove heating the dining room and house. Outside is a lovely south facing patio with a steep lawn and beautiful flowers. And a wooden shed to put the bikes in. Perfect. Jack and Maya's train is delayed to Exeter so they have a taxi laid on to Barnstaple and then get the bus to Blackmoor Gate where Lily-Rose and I meet them having shopped in the Old Station pub's store in holy harem pants and furry slippers (Lily-Rose not me). We meet our Belgian neighbours who are staying in the bijou outhouse next to us down the path. Seem very friendly and keep themselves to themselves during the week. The patio has a grave headstone for some reason which is odd as Lily-Rose was saying on the way down that we always spend a lot of time in graveyards on our holidays. It's a perfect spot for a barbeque so that's what we have for dinner. No light pollution here, except the moon, so we see a lot of stars and a few meteors as a shower is overhead tonight.

Toasting our arrival

Sunday the weather not exactly hot though quite warm when the sun breaks through. A fairly lazy day getting supplies and we park at nearby Bele beach and hang out for a while. Not many in swimming as it's not that sort of day. Bele is a lot like Combe Martin beach - sandy shingle in a small bay with rock pools at the side when the tide's out. Back in Kentisbury we walk to the church just down from us and are detained in the churchyard by a herd of cows being brought in for milking. Another barbeque for dinner then we throw a few logs on the fire and sing along to our old holiday favourite Just Jack. We spot a few more meteors and shooting stars before the clouds roll in.

Bele Beach

Bele Bay

Cloudbathing

Kentisbury church roof

Kentisbury Church

Monday starts grey with typical seaside drizzle but perks up a bit later in the day. The girls go horse riding at the local stables, next to the cottage we stayed in a couple of years ago with the ferocious anti-vegan rooster. Afterwards we drive to Lynton & Lynmouth for a walk round the tourist shops, buy fudge and turkish delight and admire the picturesque views of the bay and incredibly steep combes coming down into the sea.

Looking out from Lynton churchyard

Garden and view of rainbow forming

Tuesday is forecast to be sunny, well, mostly, so we drive to Putsborough Sands which is the far end of Woolacombe Beach. We see the hordes of sun seekers at the far end and although the car park is full at this end there's plenty of space. When the sun's out it's nearly hot on the beach. Nearly. I go for a swim and it's pretty warm I guess cos it's not that hot out of the water so feels OK. A few waves to body surf with. After lunch and frisbee exertions with Debbie we walk along the cliff path to Baggy Point (most of us all the way) which is the first time I've done so I think despite having holidayed so close to it at least a dozen times over five decades. We wonder why it's called Baggy Point (I should google it) but suspect it's not the odd looking couple trekking along with a plastic supermarket shopping bag. We make hay whilst the sun is shining, or at least it's not raining, and have another barbeque in the evening.

Woolacombe Beach from Putsborough

Either Jack has shrunk or the locals have very long legs

View from Baggy Point

Baggy Point Posing #1

Baggy Point Posing #2

The long walk back from Baggy Point

Wednesday sees me up for an early breakfast and then off on what should be a 50 mile bike ride. I'm doing a loop south, west to near Barnstaple and then back north. Within 5 miles I take a wrong turn and go down an incredibly steep combe and what goes down must come up. For one of the very few times in my life I have to get off and push. In my defence I'm going up what must be a 1-in-4 lane (that's 25% in new money) which was just about doable until the hairpin and the camber must have hit 1-in-2. After 50 yards I get back on again but it hit's my legs hard and sometime later I have to walk a few yards again. Luckily no one to see my embarrassment. I think even the local cyclists avoid these combes and London cycling where the steepest I get is going up over London Bridge hasn't really prepared me. Anyway the rest of the route is lovely. I get back up again and over Exmoor even coming into my home county of Somerset. A little lost again I hit the Barnstaple ring road which I should have avoided completely and then again I don't take a turn off and find myself struggling up the hill through Bratton Fleming. Partly to rest my legs and partly to get water I stop off at the village shop where I'm told that once I get to the top of the village it's fairly flat to Blackmoor Gate. The shopkeeper then giggles as she tells me that it gets steeper before I get to the top of the village which is strung out. As there are 3 other cyclists, in team colours but hardly with Froome like physiques, I can't walk so up on the bike again in the granny gear. At the top of the village I stop to admire my achievement and the two dog walkers I meet are surprised I'm cycling up rather than down. See the route on Strava - I'd advise going the other way round to what I did as there must surely be less up hill struggles?! Once back home, later than planned as I've done just over 60 miles, we go into Ilfracombe to wander around and have a chip supper sitting on the harbour overlooked by Damien Hirst's very odd statue Verity. Once back home the weather closes in and it's a wet and stormy night. Doesn't disturb me as I sleep like a log.

Exmoor cycle ride

Typical hilly lane

Bike & Exmoor framed by trees

Windswept up here

St Mary's Church, Mariansleigh

St Mary's - C15th with Norman font

Mariansleigh church building - Victorian post box and ancient terra cotta sculpture

Another typical lane - why do they always go upwards?

It was hilly - and slow!

Verity by Damien Hirst in Ilfracombe

Verity with muscles, innards and unborn baby revealed

At Ilfracombe

Flaked out

Thursday is sunny and we have a lazy morning before the girls go off horse riding again in the afternoon. Following that we go for a leisurely walk through Kentisbury past their community centre (looks like it was an old non conformist church or old village school?) and past the current school. Lovely lanes apart from the cow crap. We have a games evening where Debs wins at Cluedo and then Jack beats me at table football. It was close though and nearly went to penalties. Very heavy rain in the late evening but that seems to be the form. Sunny in the day, with perhaps a little drizzle, and wet in overnight. Better than the other way round I guess. I rescue our shoes which we left outside in the by now damp porch.

Kentisbury Community Hall

Kentisbury Lane

The Decider - note professional gloves

Friday has a decidedly damp start to it and Jack and Maya are packing to go. Drive into Barnstaple the scenic route through heavy rain showers and a bit of lightning but as we park next to the railway station the sky is blue excepting a few white clouds but not the black ones we've passed. We wander around the town having our first meal out at an excellently authentic Italian restaurant and buy a chest of drawers dirt cheap for Lily-Rose. Carrying it back to the car we have a coffee and ice cream in the garden at the quaint old style station which sports the green GWR livery on it's signs. Bidding farewell to Jack and Maya the three of us drive back home covering the route I took cycling. Although it seems to be a lot more of just going uphill than I remember, which is satisfying as it shows I covered it without too much pain, the hill at Bratton Fleming doesn't seem quite as vicious as I remember. I guess I was tired by then. Back home we start packing and watch the wind pick up in the trees before settling down to our last makeshift evening meal of the holiday.

An interesting part of Barnstaple

View from the cottage

View of the garden

View from our lounge

Saturday sees the three of us up bright and early and after breakfast we're packed and off by 10am. Pretty early for us but the Belgians are long gone giving us the opportunity to peek in their bijou abode. Drive over beautiful Exmoor in the sun quickly detouring up to Dunkery Beacon to admire the amazing views back over Exmoor, out past Minehead across the Bristol Channel to Wales, and over towards the rolling hills of Somerset and beyond. The colours of the gorse and heather add to the beautiful scene. It's pretty bracing up here and even though the sun's out not exactly warm. After that it's a relatively good journey back through Taunton and then back to London via the A303 and M3. Back in plenty of time to see Final Score and then watch the Stoke Arsenal match which I won't dwell on. Wish I'd got caught in a horrendous jam and only got into Balham at 7.30. A great holiday. No awards for most time spent on the beach but a lovely time nevertheless. Nothing like the West Country for atmosphere. Devon is heaven indeed.

Dunkery Beacon looking northwards

Dunkery Beacon colours