The Road to Somewhere Part 7 – The end is nigh.

Ever felt like you’re going to drown in your own snot? I bet you’ve never read a blog starting with that sentence before! But the Cetirizine which has done such a superb job over the summer has been found wanting in the last couple of days due, I suspect, to the cornfields being cut near our last site. However we have moved on and are enjoying a few days at the Caravan & Motorhome Club site at Alderstead Heath in Surrey. A nice short run beckons Wednesday when we return home.

Right, where we? Ah yes, we had a good week down in North Devon with my cousin and family. The weather did it’s best to spoil it but there were some bright moments to be had. The evening down at little Barricane Beach – just around the coastline from Woolacombe – devouring Sri Lankan curry was lovely.

Another highlight and one in which the weather did play a positive role was our fishing expedition. I didn’t catch many – less than one to be precise – and I wasn't the only one to draw a blank but the star of the show was my cousin Andy who, within fifteen minutes of casting, hooked a Shark.  It was a fighter and took some getting aboard, and even then continued to put up a very spirited fight. Even the more experienced crew couldn’t handle it – and those teeth would have done some serious damage - but we did get the chance to grab some quick photos before it was returned to the water. Fishing aside it was great to be on the water with the sun shining and getting a look at the lovely coastline too.

My birthday is not something I like to celebrate these days but to commiserate Janet cooked a beautiful roast beef dinner with all the trimmings – for ten of us mind – all from the confines of her caravan kitchen. It tasted superb – but then Janet’s cooking always does – and was really appreciated by all.

Another bright day saw myself and Trev head in to Exmoor, pausing first at Simonsbath for some lens clicking, then at Exford for a cream tea. At a pub. Yes, that’s right. We stopped at a pub and I didn’t have a pint. Make a note, it’s rare. But the tea and scones were delicious.

We continued, emerging on the coast at Minehead and returned via Porlock, which looked delightful but parking was impossible. There were no such issues right down on the coast at Porlock Weir however. What a cracking spot. Tea was taken – along with sausage and chips at a lovely spot overlooking the harbour. I think I’ll leave that upcoming cholesterol check a little longer.

We could have re-joined the main coast road by turning tail and heading back to Porlock but instead turned left and took the private Worthy Toll Road, dropping two quid in the slot for the privilege. ‘Road’ is perhaps overdoing it a bit – there was some tarmac here and there – but it was good fun and took us through some lovely countryside.

The last full day saw Sarah – Andy & Janet’s eldest – say goodbye to her twenties. We celebrated with a pub lunch in land. Eating out is easy for most of us but for Sarah and daughter Esmae it’s a lot more tricky, them both being Coeliacs. The Muddiford Inn offered an extensive gluten free menu and judging by the empty plates appeared to be enjoyed by all.

After an overnight stop in Cirencester it was back to Cambridge and time for the sad task of clearing HRH’s bungalow. We’d furnished her room at the home with a fair but of stuff but there was still plenty left – some was to be distributed to children and grand children – but there was still plenty that needed to be disposed of.

A pause in the proceedings came on Thursday, thanks to a trip to the coast. The care home had planned a day out for some of the residents – including HRH – and were short of pushers. Of wheelchairs that is. We went to Hunstanton and were rewarded with a chippy and ice cream for our efforts. More importantly Trev's Mum enjoyed it too and hopefully it helped her integrate with her new neighbours at the home.

Friday brought with it our last day in Cambridge and the day that we handed the keys to Hilda’s bungalow back to the council. The end of an era as she’d lived there for at least twenty-five years. Sad obviously but given how ill she was at the beginning of July, there has been about the best possible outcome – for her and Trev and her family. She is being fed, watered and cared for in a safe, secure and pleasant environment. It’s still early days but she does appear to be settling in well.

So, that was our summer getaway. Fun eh? Well, there have been some good moments – meeting up with friends and family and discovering some lovely new campsites such as Riverside and Lynchets Farm as well as returning to old favourites like Highfield Farm Touring Park in Comberton and Warcombe Farm in Devon. There was as well the night away from the caravan in Swindon where we were invited to the launch of the 2018 Bailey Unicorn caravan range.

Overall it’s not a summer I will remember with particular fondness though. Another leading member of the cast in this summers’ blockbuster has been my sodding left knee. It’s been fine – as long as I don’t use it for it’s intended purpose – like walking. It’s got me down and I’m not ashamed to admit that it brought me to tears on a few occasions both in pain and frustration though I don’t doubt the events of the summer played their part in that too. It’s been a trying time for many however.

Right, onwards and upwards – what’s next. Well, term starts next week, so driving duties resume – and fortunately that’s one thing I can still do even with the aforementioned knee. It’s traditionally a busy term so hopefully there will be lots of overtime to keep the caravan trips coming and the beer flowing. Patsy our dear old Coachman caravan gets the longest rest of the year – until the end of October when it’s half term and we have our 9th Twittercamp – at the Camping & Caravan Club site near Devizes. All are welcome – just get in touch for more details. In the interim here’s product reviews to be written up and lots of site arrival videos to do as well. We’ll get there.

Ok, until then, thanks for sticking with us this summer. It’s certainly been different.

Cheers

Rich & Trev.

The Road to Somewhere Part 6 – Getting Somewhere

Hello, and firstly, thank you. Part 5 was one of our best read blogs of the year – by some margin. It was also the easiest one of the summer to write. Which is more than can be said for this one at the moment. Just waiting for the caffeine to kick in I guess.

Right, well as you may well have deduced from the title, we’ve been making progress – on a number of fronts – and I’m typing this from the south-western corner of Somerset, near the Devon border. Tomorrow we move on to the North Devon coast for a week with my family and hopefully some R & R. It’s been a trying few weeks.

Talking of trying, the other matter on which there has been progress is HRH a.k.a Trev’s Mum. Finally, on Tuesday she took up residence at her new home. Myself and Trev spent the morning personalising her room which as much of her stuff as we could – photo’s, trinkets, tv and her powered recliner. So far, she seems to like it although it’s early days. On a positive note with her now being in her own room again, the strategically positioned pillow is once again an option. Again, I AM joking……

I mentioned in the last blog what an amazing job Addenbrookes have done on her, so we really need to say a big thank you to the all the staff on ward G6 for their wonderful care and attention. I personally am so grateful to them for breathing new life in to my mother-in-law. Thank you very much. Now readers please feel free to apply as little or as much sarcasm to that last bit as you deem appropriate….

It’s not just HRH who’s been enjoying the attentions of the dedicated folk at Addenbrookes either. Last Wednesday I, after considerable persuasion from the Portly Partner presented myself at the reception of A & E with my dodgy knee. I was reluctant because it wasn’t either an Accident or an Emergency and it just didn’t seem appropriate but they understood my predicament and I joined the queue.

Within an hour and a half I was called and a VERY nice physio gave me – ok just my knee, one can fantasise – a good going over and soon isolated the problem – that one of the tendons on the inside leg was on the blink again. Treatment was simple. Rest and gentle exercises to strengthen it and pain relief. Well, I’ve managed one out of the three  - although I’m not sure real ale was what the physio had in mind – and it’s my own fault that there has not been much improvement yet but hopefully this coming week I’ll be able to take more care of it.

We had a lovely stay once again at Highfield Farm Touring Park in Comberton, just outside Cambridge pitching up as it turned out, for over two weeks. This was our third visit and there may well be a fourth when we head back to Cambridge in a weeks time – to catch up with HRH and carry out the sad task of emptying her bungalow. There will be a Site Arrival video and a Site Tour too at some point, though I’m making no promises as to when. My creative ‘get up and go’ – such as it is – seems to have got up and buggered off for the time being.

Anyway here we are in the south-west at Gamlins Farm near Wellington. We had a lovely evening last night, joining fellow caravanners Dan, Angela, young Chloe and the gorgeous Chops in their awning just a few miles away for grog, grub and a good old chinwag and it was nice to talk about stuff other than just hospitals, care homes and recalcitrant mother in laws. Dan is a vlogger – and a bloody good one too - and it was exciting to hear about his upcoming projects. Many of you may already be aware of his YouTube channel - The Trudgians – but if not I urge you to check it out. Great tips, tricks and product reviews for both the novice and more experienced caravanners alike.

So, a quick look at our current site. I grabbed some pictures this morning with the phone in what turned out to be a very short window whilst the sun was out:

It’s quite a pretty site as you can see and fairly easy to get to with just the last mile after you turn off from the A38 requiring a little more care. There will be the usual site arrival video in due course. There’s the usual facilities in including free WiFi which we don’t need the aerial to pick up. Trev is making use of the laundry and getting caught up with everything whilst I sit and pretend to type..

Right, that’s it for now. Thanks for bearing with us. Hopefully they'll be some photos from a sun-drenched (yeah, right) Devon to share in the next blog. Until then,

Rich & Trev.

**Update** It now appears Gamlins Farm has closed.

Summertime (?) in Seven Counties Part 1 – Delectable Devon

“Summers Will Never Be The Same” was a book written by Christopher Martin-Jenkins as a tribute to the late great cricket commentator Brian Johnston and at the moment it’s title could not seem more apt. Whether it’s down to climate change or selective memory I know not. What I DO know is, it’s July, mostly windy, often wet and well short of anything that could be considered sunbathing temperatures. I knew I should have brought one of my poncey leather coats!

Still, it is the summer holidays – for us anyway – and that of course means that once again we are away in Patsy our mature but well preserved Coachman caravan.

North Devon is our first port of call and we’ve returned to the lovely Warcombe Farm looking even more beautiful than it was three years ago. Warcombe Farm joins a very small list of site that we’ve visited more than once. There’s a few around Cambridge thanks to visit’s to see HRH aka Trev’s Mum and Crystal Palace too for numerous visits to London.

Wednesday saw us make the 231 mile trundle west, leaving Patsy’s storage site soon after 7am. We were both a little jaded having made a couple of 500 mile round trips to the Peak District in the days preceding for the school kids Duke of Edinburgh expedition.

Traffic was as expected but we avoided the worst of the inevitable hold ups around Worthing, Arundel & Chichester thanks to the early start and, having swapped driving duties a couple of times arrived on site soon after 1pm, with Rosie managing just shy of 28mpg.

The welcome at Warcombe was as warm as we remembered and with check in completed we were shown to our pitch, it’s copious proportions bringing back memories of our time in France last year.

In the evening site managers Judith & Mike joined us bringing with them some grub from the on site eatery – an addition since our last stay. Tonight was nachos and very tasty they were too. There’s a different theme every night, be it Indian, Chinese, Italian or more traditional with options available for the less adventurous. A full cooked breakfast can be had most days too, as well as afternoon tea.

We’d kept in occasional contact with Judith through the wonder of social media but it was still good to catch up face to face and we had a very pleasant evening, even managing to sit outside for the duration.

Thursday morning was wonderfully lazy – reading and the occasional snooze. It was late afternoon when we finally emerged for foray to the nearest supermarket to stock up, returning only to load the fridge before heading to the nearby village of Mortehoe for grog and grub. The food was good but the ale – not quite local but from neighbouring Cornwall - was even better. Particularly at less than three quid a pint.

Friday saw us head south to Clovelly – a preserved and privately owned village on the coast. The cobbled main thoroughfare is too steep for vehicles and for years donkeys had the unenviable task of traversing the steep incline. Now, every property owns a sledge for transportation of goods.

It is steep – very steep in places and suitable footwear is a must. It’s just as well we visited in the summer or I’d have been shod in my usual winkle pickers and would probably have skidded to the bottom on my backside…

A delightful little harbour greets you at the bottom as does the thought of getting back up again. You can hitch a ride up along a back road for a small fee and I was expecting (and half hoping if I’m honest) that Trev would go for this option. He was determined to walk back up though and walk we did, showing just what a great job his heart surgeon did nearly 13 years ago.

The entire village is owned by one family and the entrance fee helps pay for the traditional upkeep of all the properties.  We heard a great exchange from a couple who passed us on their way down. She said “You mean we’ve paid seven quid just to walk down a hill?” He said “No, you get to walk back up it as well!” Brilliant.

On Saturday we headed north to sample the delights of the Lynton – Barnstaple Railway. The name is at first a little misleading as currently there is only a short section of track open – from one of the original stations at Woody Bay. Plans are afoot to reconstruct the entire length of the narrow gauge line.

As it is the two mile return journey is a very pleasant one offering some cracking views over the Devon countryside from well renovated carriages. The tea room, back at the station is a delight and well worth a visit.

We stopped in Ilfracombe after pausing along the coast at Combe Martin. Ilfracombe’s harbour was bustling with Damien Hurst’s ‘Verity’ still attracting attention. Even the sun graced us with it’s presence for a little while.

Across the bay can be found – according to a local – the Ilfracombe Elephant forged over thousands of years by Mother Nature alone. Can you see it?

Back at the site it was time to fire up the CADAC for the evenings banquet. Something we decided we would try and do on this trip is Buy British. You can read into this what you will given the recent referendum but we’ve managed it so far save for some Egyptian red onions which leapt into the basket when our guard was down. Oddly the two food shops we’ve been in seem full of goods emblazoned with the Union Flag, so it hasn’t been that hard to do so far.

Of course, buying British is one thing, but cooking is another. It’s been an interesting exercise trying to find out where stuff is actually made. So far we’ve cooked outside on a South African CADAC and French Campingaz stove and Moulinex flatbed, the latter most definitely being made in China. In the winter we would have used the caravan’s cooker – made in Sheffield but owned ultimately by an American company as is the fridge. And where does the steel come from to make it?

It may be Calor powering these but Calor is now Dutch owned. The electricity supplied to site may well be produced in the UK – but perhaps not from British coal – and is quite likely to be French or German owned. The caravan is British designed are built but some components are sourced abroad. Our car was built in Swindon by British workers for a Japanese company – and again where did the steel come from? The diesel that powers it? Refined in the UK most probably but unlikely to have come from the North Sea. The more forensically you analyse it the harder it is to buy ‘pure’ British in such a globalised market.

Even real ale is not immune – many breweries now source their hops from abroad, but rest assured this won’t impact on my ongoing ‘research’ project!

Check back soon for Part Two, hopefully I’ll be able to show some pictures of this lovely site with the sun out as well as what else we’ve been up to.

In the meantime, check our Site Arrival video for Warcombe Farm HERE

There are also some slideshows: Clovelly & Lynton-Barnstaple Railway

Devon Delights pt 1 – A new arrival

Yeah, I know,  another Royal baby theme but if everyone else is jumping on the bandwagon then why not? Funnily enough, no sooner had I posted a message on Farcebook last night suggesting that HRH might want to hurry things up a bit – for our benefit as much as hers – when out it, sorry, he pops. Maybe she had her phone with her and took notice of me, although I don’t recall accepting a friend request from a duchess. Queens yes…..

Right, enough of that nonsense, let’s get on with the real nonsense – and the title should give you a none too subtle hint that we’ve moved north – to Warcombe Farm near Mortehoe in north Devon. We’ve had glorious sunshine, mist and  a little bit of rain too though it has remained warm. In fact this particular trip may go down in history as the first one where my trusty leather jeans have not seen daylight. Mind you, given the volume of grub and grog that’s successfully navigated it’s way through the  treacherous path that is my  my digestive system since we’ve been away it will be a miracle if they still fit…..

Right – update time – eventually. Here’s what's been happening.

Packing away the awning on Saturday morning was surprisingly stress free – although with all the lights to take down, untangle and put away – de-rigging  a west end musical  would probably be quicker. We decamped to the other side of the ‘van for the rest of the day to get out of the wind. A late bbq’d breakfast was the only interruption to the cricket as England slowly turned the screw.

With nearly everything ready for an early departure we adjourned, for the last time to the First & Last in Sennen for some more research. The increasing regularity of our visits of late meant that there was nothing new to try, so Sharp’s Doom Bar was the ale of choice. some live music started around 9pm – a band called ‘The Hoodle’. We stayed for the first half, but conscious of an early start didn’t hang around. They were very good though.

Sunday, and time to depart – which meant of course all the usual caravanning carry on – loo emptied, legs up, motor mover on, etc etc. And rain! The heavens opened for the first time in nearly three weeks, and despite it stopping soon after, by the time we got to Penzance and topped up with diesel, Patsy was already filthy.

The journey itself passed without incident. We paused for a loo break and to swap  over driving duties but Trev was happy to carry on. We’d also heard from the site that we could arrive when we like – which was great news and very helpful. We pulled in to the car park soon after midday, were checked in by some very friendly staff and were shown to our pitch.

Warcombe farm is a big site – some 260 pitches accomodating a variety of tents, motorhomes and caravans and well landscaped There are large open spaces where a group can pitch together, uniform inline pitches, and secluded lots separated by trees and shrubs. Many have electrical hook ups and some have water and waste too. There is also a pretty little fishing lake in the middle. Ours was on the perimeter road with nothing but countryside behind us. Lovely.

The awning went up really easily – although it’s erection was disturbed by frequent slaps to the limbs as yet another horsefly settled down for a feast. The dregs of two different sorts of insect repellent procured some years back marginally effective, eventually halting the little buggers before a blood transfusion was needed.

Time was marching on by the time we’d finished – and with the news from Lords that England had trounced Australia we showered and headed off in search of grub and grog.

Mortehoe was only a few minutes away and we drove through slowly on the look out for dining and drinking options – in fact you have to drive slowly – from what we’ve seen so far Devon is on a par with Cornwall when it comes to narrow winding roads. With options logged we carried on around to Woolacombe to see what was on offer there, but decided to head back. It was still very busy – and given the fact it was a warm Sunday night at the start of the school holidays, so it should be. It was very pretty though and on the list to do later on.

Both the ale and food, were a little disappointing to be honest. Clearly the warm weather was causing cellar coolers to struggle – in the two pubs we visited the ale was too warm, although still clear and tasty.The food was ok but greasy and overpriced for what it was sadly.

Monday and and a clear blue sky was visible through the skylight as I got up at silly o’clock to relieve my aching bladder. Later at a more sensible hour and with the kettle on it was a little overcast, but still nice and warm.

The little towns of Lynton and Lynmouth were the first ports of call, the drive to which took us through some stunning landscapes and the western edges of the Exmoor forest too.

Lynmouth sits at the bottom of a gorge accessed by a very steep and narrow road and is joined to it’s neighbour above by a water powered cliff railway. There is a pretty harbour area with hotels perched on cliff edges and a very stony beach.

  

The railway is a delight. Two cars joined by cables go up and down the 860 odd feet climb to Lynton. The car at the top fills a tank with water until it is heavier than the one below, which at the same time empties it’s tank. Gravity does the rest. Great fun and a must if you come here.

  

Lynton is pretty too, although there is evidence of tough times. Hopefully the good weather will give our seaside resorts the boost they desperately need. Talking of weather the sun had returned, albeit rather hazily, slowly bringing in a sea mist whish was loitering just off the coast.

We headed back along the coast pausing at Hagginton Point for photo’s of the rocky coastline and the village and beach of Hele below. Hele is home to paper mill now producing tea bag paper amongst other things but the first glazed writing paper was produced here in the 1840’s. For the interest of my old stationery crowd at CBS but probably on-one else; Wiggins Teape (or whatever they’re called now) own the paper mill  here.

  

Next stop was Ilfracombe - another seaside resort so loved by the Victorians but has suffered in recent years. Consequences of the current economic climate were in evidence in the high street but there were plenty of people about. What should be doing ok – for the quality of their baguettes alone - is the cafe and take away called Rainbow Corner. Bacon and cheese for Trev and sausage and onion for me – they were both divine. A quick mention too to the very nice chap that handed over his parking ticket giving us a couple of hours free parking. Thank you – every little helps!

It was certainly busier down by the harbour area and far more promising. Boat trips were on offer and there is a ferry over to the Island of Lundy. The 66 feet high bronze statue of a pregnant lady called Verity sits in a prominent position looking out over the bay. A 20 year loan from artist Damien Hirst, it apparently didn’t meet with universal local approval. Half of the statue shows Verity in all her glory. Move to the other side and her skin is peeling away to reveal her skull, flesh and her unborn baby. Bizarre. After a disappointing start I warmed to Ilfracombe the longer we were there and glad we stuck with it.

 

The sea mist was rolling in as we called in at the supermarket and the open fields took on a much eerier quality as we drove back to the site. A ‘veg’ dinner provided the evenings nourishment -  although still with bbq’d bangers - accompanied by a bottle or two of a lovely EPA procured from a certain German discount supermarket.

So, up to date again. Another cloudy start this morning but the promised storms have not materialised and the sun is making regular, increasingly successful attempts to break through. Today is the day that we are ‘assured’ (that word again) that contracts will be exchanged, although at the time of typing – just gone midday – there is no news. Still, they know the score. Right, going to get this sent and then we’re going to Woolacombe.

Look out for pt 2 coming soon(ish!)