Something other-worldly appeared over Plymouth yesterday. Still plenty of mud and puddles. Some cold winds. Parking was at a premium, but serendipity gave us a space with a view.
Perhaps February is trying to redeem itself.
Autumn colours have started to put in an appearance. Late this year. Because of strange weather, leaves have just turned brown and dropped or been blown off.
My first gloriously red leaf arrived on the 3rd of October a whole week later than last year.
Other more personal signs of Autumn arrived only two days ago. My skin and hair suddenly announced that my summer regime of moisturising and curl protection were not enough for autumns shorter, colder days. Thicker and richer potions are required from now on.
We also set out on a definite post summer trip yesterday. Totnes is a favourite town to visit but it is a hugely popular tourist destination. In Summer the narrow, old streets are full to the brim with people exploring the fascinating shops, cafes and intriguing ambiance of a town that has a unique personality. Not so much of a problem for us, but the dogs resent the busyness when all they want to do is sniff and amble very slowly. Autumn has a quieter vibe that the dogs are happier with.
For a while in the late 80’s and 90’s I worked in Totnes. Having recently moved from Brighton it felt more like home than my actual new home. Visiting always makes my heart and soul feel nourished in lots of ways.
Yesterday in the spirit of drinking coffee in one of the worlds funkiest towns we sat on the funkiest window seats. Swings looking out on the world.
Not far away, another shop was ‘smudging’ the area. Autumn felt very real and welcome in such an atmosphere.
It is hard not to feel that unusual forces are in control in Totnes. The place has a good proportion of independent businesses, some stay loyal to the locations that I have known for years, while others flit about, changing location and appearance like mythical shape shifters of the buildings world.
I feel our trip to Totnes has properly kick-started autumn/ fall. No more longing for a summer day, just full acceptance of mellower moments.
And finally…
Sun day update, the sun came out and we wandered in the St Gothian Nature Reserve.
The sea was beautiful, but didn’t call us fearful of a sandy bed on our return. Beaches with fine sand are for the last day of a mini-break when we don’t have to sleep on a bed that furry paws have embellished with sand.
Tramping about on sand dunes does not seem to have the same effect.
On our return we found a very cosy church, filled with colour.
And a grave that celebrated the life of the archaeologist who researched the extensive history of humans in this magical part of Cornwall.
Unusually his wife, a prolific writer is commemorated on the edges of his grave.
My Sunday, sun day update.
P s Her books look worth a read.
Thank goodness for a photo archive. We are off for our annual end of the summer weekend in the campervan. The good weather however has not come with us. Just one good photo from our evening walk.
Photos aside we had a great long coastal walk exploring all the old tiny bungalow and chalet lanes where pre and post war dwellings are being turned into minimalist architects holiday aspirations. In accordance with the end of the season. All cafes closed at 4pm. We set off at 4:30 and by 7:30 when we returned we were wearily in need of a cup of tea and a wee.Triumphant though because we had managed to stay one foot ahead of ominous rain clouds that hovered just across the bay.
Nobody needs to see those rain clouds so the same bay from 2023 will bring much better quality joy. Although the National Trust does use a photo that I could have taken today to advertise the area.
Possibly the most prolonged and windiest nights of our camping career brought the rain, eventually, to our sliding, campervan door. Today may be a book day.
Mythical creatures on a mystical night. We camped overnight under a full moon and read books about mythical creatures.
As luck would have it the mythical creature in the book was a Leviathan which we had visited earlier in the day.
Overlooking Plymouth Sound for overnight camping we were not troubled by the low sad songs of unhappy Leviathans. Instead they jumped and frolicked in the bright moonlight which was untroubled by clouds or any other weather predicament.
It helps, of course, that Nana drew a Leviathan a few years ago.
For tide-time reasons we have moved to another bay for our evening swims this week. The peaceful arrival of a Tall Ship was in marked contrast to the business- like Naval vessels or Ferries that keep us fascinated at Firestone Bay.
Mount Batten was a prehistoric trading port, dating back to the Iron Age. It has been a key location for the defence of Plymouth and was an Air Force Base where Lawrence of Arabia was stationed. It has, over time, developed into a water sports hub since the Air Force moved out. All a bit hotch potch with no clear development plan. The area is currently in the process of being upgraded and made more attractive to tourists and visitors of all sorts. I suspect I have never mentioned it in a blog but it is a regular spot for us to dog walk and sometimes camp overnight. Free parking by a beach is always a good thing.
The sea temperature this week is a balmy 16 degrees C. Last year the waters of Plymouth Sound never reached such heights, even during August or September so to do so by July 1st is quite lovely.
Another lovely thing is to swim , drink a cup of tea and then go straight to sleep after a gorgeous sunset. No shower, just lovely salty skin and slightly damp hair. The damp dogs are less appealing.
Farewell June, you were a funny month. One moment too hot to handle and the next, raining so hard that unusual places flooded. And then in the middle of another heatwave a sea mist rolled in and we could barely see which way to swim.
Welcome to July 1st,🌞lets see what interesting weather you have in store for us.
The silky morning of yesterday’s blog bloomed into an entirely gorgeous day.
#1178 theoldmortuary ponders.
We resolved to max out on the apracity of the day and took ourselves to Rame Head for an afternoon of walking and book reading.
Our destination gives me the chance to share a tiny nugget of Cinema trivia. From the film Jaws.
Rame Head is mentioned as one of the first points sailors can name as they sail close to the English shore.
Jaws meets @theoldmortuary on a sunny day.
The road home was not too shabby either.
Saturday arrived with a nasty twist in its tail. Hannah has Covid
She felt rotten but the sun was out. We do still take Covid seriously in this house and choose not to mingle with people. But a campervan to lurk in is a perfect plan . A bed on wheels that can be parked anywhere is a great solution.
Wembury was our destination of choice and by 4pm we were the only people about. A nearly monotone walk occurred.
Hiding out in a van with limited phone signal gave me the chance to read a whole print edition Saturday Newspaper. So complete is my reading that I can fully justify buying a Sunday one. Happiness gleaned from adversity.
#900, I should write something epic and meaningful. And as it happens I can say that yesterday just like life, was about the journey not the destination. Although the destination was certainly the plan.
Cawsand, as viewed from the round window was the destination, but the weather got in the way. Heavy rain kept us prisoners in the van in a rather dull carpark so we chose to relocate to a car park with views . We had lunch, books and newspapers with us and all the facilities of our campervan. We drove to Maker Church and enjoyed the views. There are footpaths from Maker that link to the nearby South West Coastal path, we have parked there often. But never since we have had a camper van and the luxury to enjoy a lunch with comfy seats and a view. Then the rain stopped. The church and churchyard were bathed in bright sunlight. We decided to walk the dogs in the ancient churchyard.
The old churchyard was full of blue and white bluebells and a smattering of wild garlic.
The fragrance as the hundreds of flowers warmed up, was unexpectedly powerful, not sweet but heady and musky with a hint of garlic. Since I have never heard of a bluebell perfume I assume it is a redolence that is hard to replicate by the beauty industry. I could have rolled around like an excited dog in fox poo. Obviously I didn’t do that but a smell so gorgeous could easily make me do giddy things. What I did do is study old grave stones.
If I were ever to write a novel I would search old graveyards for character names. Yesterdays top name for a character was Philadelphia Jago.
Although unphotographed there was an unusual amount of Samson or Sampsons buried in the old bit of the graveyard. I wonder if that is a Cornish thing or if the name was just much more popular 200 years ago. My son is a Sam but his full name of Samuel means ‘name of God’ or ‘God has heard’ . Had I called him Samson or Sampson his name would have been far more appropriate as that means child of the sun and he, very much, is a sunny kind of person. I wonder how well Samson would have worked for him in the classrooms of the nineties.
Maybe I should finish this 900th ponder with some views from a country churchyard. They were spectacular.
Below is the morning question from my blog host. Is camping only considered camping if an overnight has occured. Yesterday was definitely camping light. Hours avoiding rain in a snug van with enough to read and eat and then much later than planned we arrived at the actual planned destination of the day. But that is a blog for another day.
Have you ever been camping?
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