Independence day over in the US of A, but moving camp day here for us at Exebridge. Not a great night to be honest. I struggled to get much sleep. How much was to do with my extended nap yesterday afternoon in the sun or how much it was to do with my sun kissed solar panel being too hot I couldn't tell you, but lets just say I was happy (if a little weary) to see day light and the opportunity to get up.
I open my bedside blind and all my grouchiness melts away as I soak in the view for the last time. It's good to be alive.
No rush to be off this morning. It's about 1 1/.2 hour tow down to Costa del Lyme and we can't arrive before 12. The dogs are walked and we're off by 10.30am in bright sunshine.
The tow down didn't go well, which seems to be a bit of a theme on this tour. All was good until we got to Honiton, from which I'd wanted to pick up the A35. For some inexplicable reason we ended up on Farway Common Rd and Seaton Rd (neither of which are wide enough to have a white line) for a rather tortuous ride before picking up the A3052.
The mile countdown on the dash left just 6 miles to Lyme Regis at 11.45am but I know we have a problem. This road will bring us in on the wrong side of town and I didn't really want to be having to thread our bulk through the single lane, narrow streets full of grockles.
The map is consulted and I plan to pick up the A358 towards Axminster and join the A35 there. I did wonder why there were tailbacks but thought nothing of it, until we are faced with a line of cones at the entry slip - ROAD CLOSED - and Herself tunes in the local radio to find out there has been a fatality.
There then followed a rather tortuous half hour where we joined the tail of traffic and crawled our way following a diversion through the centre of Axminster - Herself spent most of this time with her eyes shut and left me to bully my way through.
We are relieved to be joining the A35 on the other side and breeze our way towards Charmouth before doubling back towards Lyme on the A3052.
We're booked onto a CS for the next few nights. The owner is lovely and we spend a bit of time talking about our friends from Lyme while she shows us to our massive, if sloping and uneven pitch.
I'd decided there would only be one place where we could pitch our rather large van up, but Herself had other ideas. I do as I'm told, against my better judgement, and start the pitching process as instructed.
It didn't work. The Lock n Level was fully inflated under one side and Pitch Perfect was still only showing one red light. Herself gets in the van to see how far out it still is, and while we could live with it she couldn't really manage the final step into the van without climbing gear.
i didn't moan, honestly I didn't, as we move the van on it's over over to where I wanted to pitch up in the first place.
Once set up we head over to The Cobb. First stop was the Harbour master's office to see if Abercynon was in work. He was, and we had a chat before taking a beach side table at the harbour Inn for refreshments.
I spend the next half hour being overly nostalgic and could feel my eyes filling up under my shades as I recalled good times spent here when Binner's Mam (both sadly no longer with us) had a B&B down here and we travelled down from our student digs for weekends of sun, sea, sand and cider fuelled antics).
Time is getting on though, and we have stuff to do as we are entertaining this evening. We are delayed though as we stop to watch (aghast) at a man and woman having a full blown shouting match in the middle of Monmouth Beach car park.
Bang on time our guests arrive in the shape of The Fireman, The Lovely Debs and Abercynon (Abercynon's wife has been called into work). The evening flew by. A BBQ meal is devoured and the scrumpy flowed as freely as the chat as we retreated under the canopy with a heater running and the women under fleecy blankets to extend the evening.
It was a great night, and by the time we've waved them off and cleared up it's midnight as we fall into our pit, knackered after a long day.
Friday 5 July
Blue skies again this morning as I open the blinds, and try to work out exactly where Binner's Mam's B&B was on the opposite side of the valley. Unsurprisingly I've spent a lot of time thinking about him this break. The good ones always die too young.
When Herself manages to peel herself off the sheets we breakfast outside once more (really enjoying eating outside on this tour) before scrubbing up to head off out for the day.
I've had to promise Herself that if she is going to humour me tomorrow I am to take her to the Donkey Sanctuary in Sidmouth today, and pulling in to the car park there she'd like an excited child. She likes donkeys, she likes donkeys a lot.
We spend a few pleasant hours cooing and petting the beasts before the sting in the tail comes in the form of the gift shop. The upshot is that Beastie has now adopted a donkey called Pooh, for which we pay a monthly fee, Beastie also has a donkey back pack and Herself a little fluffy one for the front end of the caravan.
It's hot and we we take the scenic route back to Lyme, calling in at Branscobe, Beer and Seaton on the way.
The recliners are set up looking over to the other side of the valley and I embark on a serious session of personal contemplation.
Such was the intensity of this session I lay there snoring contentedly while the water ran out and Herself actually filled the Aquaroll, with Herself then hungry from that effort she got tea on the go - she even touched my BBQ. Now usually this would be an unforgivable transgression, but I was hungry on waking up and the plate of pork chops, new potatoes and a side salad looked quite tempting.
It's a balmy evening and the dogs are struggling to keep cool. We head down into town and walk from The Cobb along Marine Parade over to the small beach tucked behind the Marine Theatre.
The Fireman had advised that this beach was dog friendly and we spend some considerable time throwing stones into the clam sea for the dogs.
Walking back along Marine Parade we take a bench near the amusements and watch as families still play on the beach and a group of testosterone filled young Asian men are making rather a big issue of the fact that they were going into the rather chilly sea. Their efforts were all for the two young ladies paddling at the shoreline and they were 100% in impress mode. That is until and elderly lady silently entered the drink and calmly breast stroked last them.
An outside table is taken at The Cobb Arms. I go in and order a few drinks for Herself and I, as well as a bag of pork scratching for the dogs. The young girl explains that they don't sell them in bags, but they come out of the kitchen. I did say that Tali didn't care where they came from, and she took the order.
I was expecting some scraps to be sent out in a paper bag but when they brought them out they were quite something. Served warm and on a slate, dressed with rock salt and a dollop of apple sauce.
I love pork scratching and begrudged the dogs every mouthful, though my ice cold pint hardly touched the sides.
Saturday 6 July
Big day today. First thing is to pop down into Lyme to pick up some fudge and rocks to take back home for The Olds and work.
After brunch I start the process of breaking camp, doing as much as we can today as I know we'll be in no physical state to do it in the morning before heading for home.
With a day sack loaded with hoodies for later, spare shoes for Herself, water bottle and bowl for the dogs and a pair if bike clips for me, we set off on foot over to the football club to indulge in some serious cider drinking.
We're a bit hot and bothered by the time we get there and set up our chairs, and I know the first few aren't going to touch the sides, so opt for a few safe Thatchers Gold to quench the initial thirst. The place is bouncing and there's a serious good vibe as people mingle and the live bands do their stuff.
I could have stayed on the Thatchers (and later on regretted not doing so) but with so many brands of scrumpy on offer it would have been a shame not to give them a blast. I purchase a paddle of 5 (of the dozen or so available) for Herself and I to sample.
Herself decides that "Jack Ratt" is for her at 7.4% and I go for Chucklehead Dry at only 7% abv.
They went down a treat, far too many of them. A good craic was had by all and the day seemed to fly by.
10.30pm came, and I've barely a leg under me. Herself decides that I've had enough and we need to head back to the caravan. I'm loaded up like a Sherpa with our day sack and camping chairs and we say our goodbyes and stagger for home. The graveyard was interesting in the dark to say the least for a shit house like me, and I'll be honest and admit I was happy to be out of the gates of that particular shortcut.
Herself takes a tumble down the steps and does some damage to her ankle. She can't get up, and I'm in no fit state to assist. I'm not sure exactly how long we were in the alleyway bouncing from hedge to hedge, but by the time herself has hauled herself to her feet we have an audience of equally drunk cider heads.
Up the hill we continue ... slowly .... and by the time we get back to the van I can hardy out one foot in front of the other (sideways was no problem what so ever). Back to safety in our enclosure and my mind also gives up the fight and I collapse on the grass outside in my own world of spins. There I stayed, with the rucksack still on my back.
Herself takes pity on me - only because she needs me in a state fit enough to tow home tomorrow - and makes me as comfortable as possible by throwing a blanket in my general direction, the caravan steps being for too much for her already and permanently knackered knee and her newly knackered ankle.
I did make it to bed at some point during the night.
Sunday 7 July
After yesterday's shenanigans our planned early start was never going to happen in reality. It is 9am before we struggle to get up. Herself even more so as it appears that she's injured herself (even more so) in her fall last night. This of course will be my fault before the morning is out, so my hearing aids are left on their charging station as I set about the task of breaking camp and hitching up.
Remarkably we're moving off by 10am and hitting the A roads northwards.
Whilst Toyah has behaved impeccably performing her towing duties we have not been blessed with good luck on towing days this tour. Today was no exception as there was another road closure in Axminster and another diversion. Thankfully this one wasn't due to a fatality.
Once cleared and joining the M5 I open her up and we cruise home to south Wales effortlessly, and by 2pm the van is back in its cwtch for now.
Been a a great week away, and been a real tonic. I must admit that I missed me old mate this weekend, and spent quite a bit of time thinking about him and the great times we had together.
Until next time .....
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