Walking on Camomile lawns, now that is nice. Lots of new, interesting places to visit. Out past Tolchmoor Gate and down the lovely lane over Ridding Down, the views proving somewhat elusive. Broomage Farm which must have been quite a place in its heyday. Headon China Clay Works were in full swing and was quite attractive with the lights shining and conveyors whirring. Round to Gibhill Cottages for a cuppa on the bench and on to the suitable memorial stone. Quick Bridge and the soggy track with toads and a frog. Ridding Down cross with a mullion? To the Royal Oak which was very quiet. But the scent of the camomile was the most memorable.
Proper soft weather to head out from Princetown on a quest. And, we found them all, all thirteen. The old packhorse track from Ashburton to Tavistock. The full set. Down, down, down, we trod over Long Ash Hill past Yellowmead and the Merrivale stones, right down to the last stone for a cuppa. Then up, up, up, past West Mead Quarry and its powder store, to explore the site of Red Cottages. To Hill 60 quarry and Hollow Tor, the prison bounds, North Hessary and back to the PoW.
First, jump start the icecream van at Cadover Bridge (the stuff that ex-Marine has in his rucksack!) then off we set due west into a brilliant low sun. Over Wigford Down to Urgles Cross (is it old or new?). Down, down, the very steep hill to Goodameavy - the descent interrupted by road rage! The nasty cyclist has got the Range Rover lady's number. Through the dark railway tunnel for a coffee stop at the new cyclists' bench, thank you Mr Murray Mint and Mr Pierce Brosnam. Into the woods for the secret shortcut known only to our leader Dr Tom and on to Shaugh Bridge. Back along the cracked old pipe track in the chilly dark with the bats to Cadover where not very interesting people were looking for very interesting moths in the dark. To the Royal Oak for beer and crisps - but please don't mess up the cutlery!
Planning, planning, planning, and of course, planning. You just have to put in the work and the rewards will come and this evening we left it all on the Moor. Years of sheer graft to synchronise events to produce such a display. Out from Blackaton and Emmett's on a cool evening. To Great Trolsworthy to admire the view. The pull up to Shell Top before sheltering at Penn Beacon for a cuppa. Patience, patience, patience, and of course, patience. And there it was sailing overhead right on time. That would have been enough in itself. A wait, the gentle descent and there they were lighting up the sky, ooh and aah. A full set always has three so the huge moon had to rise. A rush back to the cars, far too late to the Oak but collective pathos ensured a pint.
Oh, and that thing we are not talking about; we are not talking about it.
And, breathe out, relax, all is back to normal, lots of lovely showers dashing across the moors, waterproofs on and off, all a lot, lot better. Out from Manaton round the church and up to the Rocks for the views. Down and round the green lanes to Foxworthy then the climb up to Hunter's for a cuppa. Along the ridge before the dive down and over Clam Bridge. Steeply up and then round an ancient trackway to view the amazing eco-house. Soon to the cars and on to the inn for lunch.
A la ruche et la chute d'eau - where else on a very fine evening out from Postbridge. There is always, always, something new. And the new this time was in the old and familiar explaining the old and familiar to the young and new. Language was a very small barrier and the magic book was very useful at times. Just enough water to make the Dart sing as we wend our way over Hartland. Up and round to take tea at the cascade as the gloaming gently gloamed. An escort back to the PoW and everyone safely to a nice, comfortable bed.
You really do have to be there ...
