Devon Days

I have come to realize that I may be a bit indiscriminate in traveling:  I tend to love every place that we visit!  Right now I’m loving Devon.  We’ve just spent 10 days there, back at North Harton Blueberry Farm with Robin and Wei-Wei and the woofers.  While there, we took day trips to a variety of Devon destinations:  Bideford on the northwest Atlantic coast; Castle Drogo, in Dartmoor National Park;  Paignton, on the English Riviera; Totnes, a riverside town near Paignton;  Bovey-Tracey and Widecombe, towns in eastern Dartmoor Park; and finally, Lustleigh, the village near to the farm.  Most of these had been suggestions by Robin because they are charming and interesting.

Bruce and I had wanted to visit Bideford, because we knew that there was a historical shipbuilding connection between Bideford, England, and Bideford, Prince Edward Island, near to where my mom grew up.  In addition, our son Sam has been living in Biddeford, Maine.  Surely there must be a connection between those two cities, as well.  So off we went to see what Bideford, England, feels like now.  We found a bustling, pretty, un-touristy city, going about its business on a sunny summer day.  Located on a tidal river, it’s close to Bideford Bay and the Atlantic Ocean.  On this day, a huge ship was being loaded with massive logs on the waterfront.  Bruce conjectured that the wood was bound for the Scandinavian pulp & paper industry.  Along narrow, pedestrian streets, housewives were buying meat at the butcher shops.  On the edge of town, we stopped to watch a lawn bowling game with older gentlemen clad in white, rolling black balls on a closely cropped green.  We had a feed of fish ‘n chips in a very, very old inn – it seemed only right.

                                                                 Bideford building 

Castle Drogo is reported to be the last castle built in England.  It’s really an ornate mansion and situated on 900 acres of rolling Devon countryside.   Completed in 1930, it was constructed to fulfill the romantic fantasies of a wealthy businessman, Mr. Drewe.  It was fun to see the lifestyle of folks who could afford live-in servants.  During World War II, the mansion served as an orphanage, the children being cared for by the dowagers of the family.  It’s now owned by the British National Trust, which must be weighed down with gifts of estates, no longer affordable to their heirs.  This one needs a 12 million pound roof repair!  

                                                                       Castle Drogo

Paignton is a beach town, located along the stretch of English Channel coastline known as the English Riviera.  With shades of Old Orchard Beach, shops were selling tacky stuff, and rides for kids lined the beachfront.  Behind them, bright white Victorian hotels and B&B’s vied for customers, with signs advertising very competitive prices.  Tiny white peaked beach buildings, with colorful doors, lined the waterfront.  Owners store their beach equipment and grills and chairs there – and then sprawl out right in front of the little beach houses, never mind going down onto the sand! 

                                                   Old hotel along the sea in Paignton

                                   Tiny beach houses in Paignton on the English Riviera

                                                      The beach & stone wall at Paignton

The lovely old town of Totnes is located on the River Dart.  It has a bit of a hippy reputation, with lots of creative, cute shops in pastel-colored buildings, and a commitment to becoming an ecologically green town.  We sat on the riverside and watched kayakers and rowers paddling by and sailboats motoring up to the boat club mooring.  Sheep on the grassy banks opposite us clustered in the cool shade of trees.  We had tea and scones in a funky tea room garden, where the unexpected ear-piercing shrieks of a giant parrot lifted us out of our seats! 

                                                   Main street of the lovely town of Totnes

                                               Rowers on the River Dart in Totnes

Bovey-Tracy is not too far from North Harton.  Since both Bruce and I were suffering from colds and lagging energy, we didn’t want to drive too far on the narrow roads, lined with tall hedge rows, that stress and exhaust drivers who are unaccustomed to them.   So we settled on visiting the Parke Estate for a walk on their peaceful paths along the Bovey River.   This was another old property that had been given to the National Trust.  As we entered the estate grounds, sheep (again) were relaxing in the meadow - can't get enough of them!  Within the estate's walled garden, vegetables, fruits, and flowers were thriving – very inspirational.  In another area, wild Dartmoor ponies were being trained so that troubled children could work with them.   For lunch, we drove on down the road to Widecombe, a tiny village with an unusually beautiful,  light and airy 15^th century stone church.

                                                Wild Dartmoor ponies at the Parke Estate  

                                                                    Peaceful river walk

     Wooden likeness in the church of Tom Cobley & friends,  subjects of a folk song at "the Widecombe Fair".

Friday was our last day on the farm - and another sunny one.  Just like our visit in late May, we had brought the sun with us, and Robin and the Woofers were exceedingly grateful!  (We liked it, too.)  The blueberries needed some sun to push along their ripening, which was happening nicely by the time that we left.  We didn't want to stray far from the farm on this last day, so decided to walk to Lustleigh, about a 40 minute stroll down through leafy, ancient trails, through meadows with sheep, across a burbling brook on a tiny stone bridge.  We sat in someone's field for awhile, just soaking it all in for one last time, thinking how we'd probably be chased off private property if we tried this at home.  Of course, if someone had objected, we'd have brought out the American accent and professed ignorance.  Travelers "from away" have a certain amount of leeway, it seems. 

In the quiet village, we sat for awhile in the village orchard, reading under a tree and watching a little girl play in the grassy, fenced-in playground while her white-haired grandparents relaxed not far away.  Nearby was the huge stone, topped with a stone chair, where the May queen sits after being crowned each May Day.  Can it get any more quaint?   After lunch in the garden of the Primrose Tea Room, we lingered for awhile before starting our uphill trek back to the farm.

                            The stone chair in Lustleigh where the May queen is crowned

                                                    The Lustleigh village playground 

That night we watched the Opening Ceremonies for the 2012 Olympics on the tellie, surrounded by folks from France, Germany, England, and China.  We loved the bit with the queen "parachuting" out of an airplane with James Bond; the piece with kids bouncing on beds, a la Peter Pan, while National Health Services doctors and nurses cared for them;  silly, hilarious Mr. Bean playing the keyboard; and the sobering, astonishing smokestacks of industrial England rising up and belching smoke.   In my opinion, it got off to a slow start but was brilliant in its entirety.  It's certainly getting great press in the UK!  We couldn't stay up long enough to see the US team march in together - if only the USA came earlier in the alphabet!  

Wei-Wei and Robin sent us off with Dartmoor blueberries and Wei-Wei's homemade cheese for snacking on.

Now we're in rainy Cork, Ireland, where they say it's been raining all summer.  Hard to imagine how they can remain so cheery.  Only one week before we fly home on August 8.  Will this all be a dream so soon?