Category: Van Life

#702 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Van Life1 Comment

This birthday invite gave us a big shock yesterday. Despite living in London at the time we were there at the beginning of Strong Adolfos. We went to their soft opening. The shock was that they have only been open 10 years. This is definitely a case of the years of Covid-19 restrictions causing a concertina effect on our mid-term memory.

How can it be only 10 years. I would be much more comfortable with 15 years. So much has happened in this last 10 years and we have been to Strong Adolphos with so many different people it seems a little crazy to have squeezed all those happy memories into just 10 years. Especially when we factor in that for almost 2 years we were unable to visit.

https://www.strongadolfos.com/

Strong Adolfos is on the Atlantic Highway on the North coast and roughly the mid point of the county. It has always been a convenient place to meet friends and family who were holidaying or living in Cornwall. For us, as dog walkers, it is close to the Seven Bays. Large sandy beaches where we can walk the dogs and have a swim.

https://freemapsofcornwall.co.uk/our-directory/business-place/the-seven-bays-guide/

There was no swimming yesterday but a couple of hours of dog walking and sun catching in a miraculous break between rain storms. The wind direction and tide was absolutely ripe for surfers.

Swimming would have been a bit bonkers but away from the surf zone we paddled knee deep in the incoming tide and the dogs had two hours of free running and socialising on the beach.

We had two hours of pondering the 10 year conundrum. Hannahs mum has been dead for nearly 8 years and she loved the vibe at Strong Adolphos. She very much loved independent cafe culture and the people watching that goes with it. She used to like perching on the high bar stools at the window bar.

Crazy that she can only have done it for 2 years max. I know my mid term memory is now utterly unreliable how did 10 years feel like 15. There will be pondering beyond this blog today.

#683 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Rust, Van Life1 Comment

When the tourist season releases its grip on the towns and villages of the west country we take off in the van, park up somewhere as pretty as possible and enjoy exploring in the less busy months. Dartmouth was our destination of choice this past weekend.

We arrived by ferry when the sun was low in the sky.

And parked up next  to the river.

A domestic admin failure had given us  some free hours in the day which gave us the chance to get to Dartmouth with enough daylight to find a sleepy spot for the night and explore the town on foot. We managed more than 10,000 steps in a couple of hours in quiet streets. I have worked in Dartmouth a lot more than twenty years ago and know that that sort of foot work would be impossible when the town is buzzing with happy visitors.

We made it to Bayards Cove Fort. Vital in the defence of the town since Tudor times.

Above: No further than 200m away, wooden ships would have been easy targets. A simple wrought-iron gun, fired a solid round shot weighing about 1.5kg. It could hole a ship at the waterline and create havoc amongst its crew.

The fort wall has II arched openings, or embrasures, each for a heavy gun. Looking through these, you can see that they are angled carefully to cover a particular area of water. The guns would have been fired in turn as a ship moved into the field of view.

The only wooden boat on the water when we were there was little Sparky.  We didn’t have the firepower or inclination to blow him out of the water.

Sparky with Kingswear in the background

There was some fabulous rust in the fort. It would have been uncharacteristic if I had not grabbed a  photo of it. It is certainly not part of the original structure and was probably put up to keep tourists like me from plunging into the river while taking photos.

Our evening meanderings took us on lovely historic streets that meandered from the banks of the river up the hill towards the top of the valley. We enjoyed the architecture and the dogs enjoyed the smells. To add some authenticity to an ancient port we came across some career drinkers in a piss soaked alleyway. They optimistically offered us the sorts of historic pleasures that it was easy to decline.

https://www.dartmouthfishingfestival.com/

The towns pubs buzzed as dusk and then darkness arrived. We were in the town, unintentionally,, during the 62nd Dartmouth Fishing Festival. Saturday was only day 1 with two more days to go, so no celebrating to speak of but tactics and  with fisherfolk, the inevitable tales of the ones that got away. The towns bandstand , near our parked van, had been the hub of the day-one close of play meeting. Having only just arrived  we couldn’t fathom what we were listening to. As we wandered the streets later we had a bit more understanding, but only a bit. The only fish we saw were in an art gallery.

5 Spratts- Giles Ward. The Rose Gallery, Dartmouth

My weekend blogs were a little sombre but blogging/pondering is only ever a snapshot of a moment. So while the sombre thoughts got a little blogspace the fun stuff was happening . It might take me all week to write about that.

What is your favorite hobby or pastime?

Just let me think…

#682 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Van LifeLeave a comment

Bad weather took away plans today, in doing so It freed up time for more plans. Right now I should be in the midst of Pirate Mayhem as the Tennis Club I am involved with was hosting all sorts of wonderful Pirate and Sea themed adventures at its seafront location. Dreadful weather with high winds was forecast and so on Saturday morning the whole thing was cancelled. And so a 24 hour gap appeared in our life schedule and the van was swiftly packed up for a mini adventure. I worked in Devon for a large chunk of my working life and have lived here for two years and have always wanted to explore the nooks and crannies, visit the places only ever seen on patients request forms. Devon being Devon explorations are best done in the tourist off season. The bad weather warning of yesterday heralded the tourists off season so we ticked off three places, never before visited. Noss Mayo, Bere Ferres and Holbeton.

Not a single photo of landscape beauty exists, but we do know where we will and won’t be taking a long wheel base VW in the busier months. We also know exactly how wet it is possible to get when a county gets a severe weather warning.

As luck would have it there was a coffee shop in the quickly created wish list. A coffee shop with three inside tables. Definitely a win win situation.

Home

Pirates 0- Coffee 1

#675 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Beach Life, dog walks, Serendipity, Van LifeLeave a comment

We went in search of an offshore breeze yesterday and found ourselves at Godrevy at Gwithian Towans on the north coast of Cornwall. The September Heatwave made a large rockpool the perfect spot for a skinny dip.

Our evening location was very acceptable in every way.

The evening dog walk was very slow and in places the sun was setting in just the right spot.

Ponies are used to keep the sand dunes healthy,but in true pony style my photo is dreadful.

A long time ago I used to photograph Jazz musicians as an occasional money making hobby. I did a lot of Jazz photography , I only occasionally made any money. It is extraordinarily difficult to take a flattering photograph of Jazz musicians, but that was a huge part of the pleasure. Sometimes hobbies are meant to be difficult. I was moderately successful and musicians can be fascinating people. Ponies on the other hand are equally difficult to take a flattering photograph, not particularly entertaining on a conversational level and would never put a hoof in their pockets no matter how good the photograph was. I’m not really certain why I pondered off to my photography past. Maybe while pondering off, I should ponder off on this skinny dipping habit. I’ve been doing it all my life. The Swimmer, a Burt Lancaster film, was the inspiration and yet at no time was Burt naked. I think he just inspired me to swim when the moment presents itself. Unlike Bert, my random acts of swimming never confront me with reflections of poor choices or relationship failures. If a black and white film on a Sunday is your thing I can recommend it.

The Swimmer https://g.co/kgs/PBZYyR

My parents thought my obsession with the film and the act of skinny dipping was a little odd but as true people of the 70’s did nothing to stop me.

And so it continues unchecked and so far I have never been caught out in any way.

Meanwhile back to Godrevy and the lighthouse.

#654 theoldmortuary ponders

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Four days of campervan camping in the rain is not what we planned,  but Weather Forecasts certainly prepared our pragmatic selves for such an event. We were not even an hour from home so the ultimate sanction on the weather was to return to Stonehouse. Living in a confined space in bad weather is not as bad as it could be. Two weekend newspapers and a book read is a huge bonus. We also think about refinements to the van and life in general.

Now we are home the sun is out. We have been the busiest of bees drying out our awning and getting the campervan ready for the next adventure.

#653 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Van Life1 Comment
Puddles in rocks.

Time to wrap up our extended, long weekend of camping. In a world of constantly changing plans we decided to stick with our hastily organised camping trip. Regardless of how things turned out it would be a good location to test out our accessory camping kit, stuff that has not been used since before Covid.

Puddles in rocks, above, is a photograph taken on our only trip to Talland Bay. A beautiful beach close to our camp site. We popped there yesterday in a rare moment without torrential rain.

The focus of our trip was our 4 year old granddaughter. She loves the theory and practice of campervanning.

The weekends rain and the lack of beach time failed to dent her pleasure in the simple act of camping. In many ways her experience was enhanced. Book reading and playing was all we could do. We visited her Aunty Shelley in her caravan where we read books and played and sorted through charity shop jewellery. After 24 hours she was returned to her dad and granddad ready for a Sunday Roast. Perfection for a small person has such different goals to adult aspiration and rain really is of no consequence.

#652 theoldmortuary ponders

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In a week of unexpected journeys this one took us to Mounts Bay this morning. Scene of the 2024 Prostate Charity swim. Today the destination where we returned Miss VV to her dad after a day and night of campervanning excitement for a four year old. On that time we learned that a local cutprice megastore was actually a World of Honey and that car journeys are measured by increments known as Penguin Rocks.

Never has Trago Mills been so romantically named and a measure of a Penguin Rock is 7 minutes. These small revelations happen when you only get to see a grandchild once or twice a year. She doesn’t know that we find Trago to be a bit of a chore. We don’t know what Penguin Rock is. We have all gained something today.

A ladybird sought sanctuary from a sea holly, initially from the sun but ultimately from another heavy rain storm.

We sought sanctuary at a cafe called Hoxton Special, promising life changing coffee.

Of course we have no way of knowing if this coffee changed our lives. We drank 1 and a half cups each and left the cafe.

Having avoided the storm, fully caffeinated up we set about the rest of our day. Which decisions were coffee related and which were not is one of lifes great unknowns. But like many good cafes they provided something to consider.

Hope your Sunday was as eventful or not as you required. More next week.

#651 theoldmortuary ponders

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We’ve set up a tent extension to our campervan for the first time since before Covid. Summer plans have been somewhat changed due to circumstances beyond anyone’s control. Some things however must be squeezed into the itinerary no matter what. Camping with a small but important granddaughter who has loved our campervan since she was first able to walk. It is the campervan she loves, not the location. Last year she was hugely disappointed that we moved on from a supermarket car park where she had happily started her camping weekend while we shopped for food essentials.

For many reasons we have set up a day before she arrives. Everything apart from the weather is good to go.

We have a corner plot and a beautiful hydrangea next to the van.

No filters, all these blooms on one bush.

So now we await the V I (s) P. Fairy lights are in position. Last night there was a small fairy light crisis. A whole string fell on Lola. Worse things happen.

#639 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Serendipity, Van Life2 Comments
Mango Ice Cream in Abersoch

A strange thing happened in Abersoch. In the middle of a night- time storm a tiny buzzing creature sought refuge in my ear. At first I thought a stray curl had dipped into my ear but buzzing in my head is not the normal response to a curl finding a resting place deep inside my ear. Then the tiny creature started tap dancing on my eardrum. Soon enough he encountered some ear wax and his footsteps turned to squelches.

He was completely invisible to the naked eye and the sounds of him tap dancing and squelching was imperceptible to anyone but me. Everything he did was out of proportion to the real world. The clarity of the tap dancing was like having a private dance from an accomplished soloist in a huge auditorium with only me as an audience member. The squelching was moist and resonant like pulling a boot out of the deepest of mud.

In the outside world, none of this was taken particularly seriously. Meanwhile, the tiny dancer was tiring, the buzzing had stopped. I was encouraged to go back to sleep, if indeed I had ever been awake and this whole episode has been just a dream. Some moments later there was a flourish of sensation, a little more precise percussion on my eardrum and a piercing buzz. I shouted out in astonishment and there was silence. In my hypnagogic state, I was convinced the poor creature had shouted out in pain before his tiny legs had buckled beneath him. I imagined him laying lifeless on my eardrum. Anxious not to bring any more drama to the nights sleeping I promised that I would retrieve his fragile body in the morning.

The morning, as it so often does, brought clarity. The buzz had been his triumphant flight out of my ear once he had regained strength and cleaned the ear detritus off his feet.

I was spared a body retrieval and life had returned to normal. I am left with the memory of a very curious incident of a tap dancer on my eardrum.

#657 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Serendipity, Van Life1 Comment

Early morning pondering in a camper van with a coffee ready to start the day. I started the actual day somewhat lost in a sand dune. I found this dark feather and had a strange thought. Some people see the arrival of a white feather as a sign that the soul or spirit of a deceased loved one has returned to the earthly realm to reassure or comfort those who mourn them. What does a dark feather mean in this world of reassurance from elsewhere?

I always think of a quill when a dark feather appears. Secretly a quill and an ink well would suit me very well. I already paint trees and plants with bits of trees and plants. Why not write some text with a feather? A friend of mine in London was gifted one of Charles Dickens’s ink wells. The provenance was indisputable, apparently Dickens often gave an ink well as gratitude to his many hosts. Time, I think to Google how to prepare a quill. In complete contrast I recently bought myself some fancy tiny tipped pens. I love them but where is the romance in engineered plastic?

Beyond Quills my dune meanderings also gave me other nice thoughts and images. Sometimes being a little bit lost is the best place to be.