Rain is a bit of a tradition for the August (Summer) Bank Holiday.  This nearly always galvanises us to get outdoor jobs done beforehand, which is why the yard got a lot of attention on Friday before the giddiness of the Full Moony swim.

Saturday did not disappoint, weatherwise. The morning dog walk was a complete wash out, even my brilliant orange raincoat failed to save the day and a complete change of clothes was required. The day was not a washout however. Many of the full Moony Bobbers put their clothes on and swapped shore for moor. Driving to Princetown, home of the infamous Dartmoor Prison. Crossing the bleakly beautiful moorland. The location of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Hound of the Baskervilles. No howling last night just lovely tunes at the Dartmoor Outdoor Festival.

Curiously for an outdoor festival we were inside the solidly granite  bar of the Plume of Feathers at Princetown, to hear our fellow bobber Helen sing with her friend Steve. Two hours of great music, great chat, always a given when bobbers gather and an unexpected life lesson.

A local Residential Home had brought 5 very senior residents to enjoy the music. One in particular was like a lightbulb all evening. Lit up by music and the atmosphere. It was obvious that in her mind she was twirling on the dancefloor, maybe even that actual dancefloor at the end of the second world war. When Princetown was a much more lively place

During World War II, Princetown served as a remote staging area for Allied troops preparing for the D-Day landings and briefly used its railway line to transport prisoners to Dartmoor Prison. American and Allied forces used the high, isolated Dartmoor landscape around Princetown and Rundlestone Corner for tactical training away from enemy observation. The historic prison facility accommodated troops and preparations leading up to the Normandy invasions.The Princetown Railway saw a temporary resurgence in transporting prisoners to the local prison as road and alternate rail links handled heavy wartime traffic.

Imagine those heady post war months in a remote village swollen with British and American Service personnel, dismantling and disengaging a huge and temporary Military establishment.

Her absolutely obvious pleasure made for a lovely vicarious moment.