Four Days in Plymouth

This segment of the journey was also action packed, with few spare moments to relax. Our party divided in two for accommodation purposes, because Brian's house was already bulging at the seams with the arrival of niece Laura from Colchester and Phillip taking up residence for the night. So Beck and Max headed off for Lutton on the edge of Dartmoor to stay with Joanna and their second cousins Lucie and Hollie - a fine arrangement since the three youngsters became the best of friends (roughly aged 5, 6, and 7). However, all participants came together for the travel events of the next 4 days.

The first expedition took us to the port, the Hoe and an evening meal. The youngsters were not the slightest bit interested in the historic events played out there - Francis Drake playing bowls before setting off the defeat the Spanish Armada; the sailing of the Mayflower to set up the colony of Massachusetts; the devastation of the second world war; and so on. I thought Max might like to see the first Eddystone lighthouse now located on shore, but no ... horsing around was much more pleasurable along with watching kids diving off cliffs and a trip to an adventure playground - of sorts.

The second trip was to the Eden Project in deepest Cornwall. Over a decade ago production ceased in a china clay pit - a deep hole in the ground - ceased and entrepreneurial folk decided to create a botanical gardens - of a kind (look it up on the web). But their efforts were far more spectacular than that - creating tropical rainforest and Mediterranean Biomes housed in large geodesic domes. Other displays on ecological themes focussed on things like waste disposal and resources and, for the energetic there's also rock climbing - remember the quarry location. The set up was heaven-sent for 5-7 year olds whose time and lack of patience was absorbed effortlessly - great choice. En route we crossed the Tamar River with its suspension bridge and I K Brunel's famous rail bridge (the only one of its kind in the world). Max was interested in these, but possibly not Lucie and Hollie. One more thing. The Eden Project also had a large hall in which, on this day, families were constructing eco-homes and the picture shows the one we constructed of timber and cloth.

The next day, we went to Bigbury On Sea on the south coast of Devon to see the beaches, Burgh Island, and the surfing culture in that part of the world. The place was beautiful, but the weather less so as there was a lot of cloud. The bay, we were told, usually has waves to surf, but on the day we were there. The sea was flat and whole lot of blokes were huddled together at one of the beach just sitting on their boards with their wet-suits on. Remember it was cool weather and the English Channel is not noted for its warm water. Burgh Island is notable for being cut off at high tide by rising sea levels, but being accessible at low tide. Correction: one can get on and off at high tide by means of the remarkable vehicle shown here. The Hotel on the Island was used as a period piece in a Miss Marple film and the public house - the Pilchard Inn - dates from 1336.

The fourth trip absorbed the kids pretty well, though the weather wasn't kind. We headed off to Padstow, a hip place on the north coast of Cornwall for some shopping and sight-seeing. Heavy rain closed in which suited the former, but not the latter. Max scored a red hoodie with his name on the back and he was then wearing exactly the same gear to the girls.

After lunch in a lovely pub, we headed off to a secret destination - secret to Dot but none of the other adults in the party - Brian and Daphne, me and Joanna.

We travelled to Port Isaac and, in a quasi-sadistic way, were wonderint how long it would take Dot to work out where she was. The attached pciture provides a clue.

Actually Dot worked it out fairly fast! She's a great fan of Doc Martin and Port Isaac is the setting for the drama. We were able to identify his surgery, the cafe, the pharmacy, the school and so on, apart from the lovely coastal walk and the picturesque remainder of the village. Unlike Looe and Polperro, Port Isaac is refreshingly small; but like them it's over-run by tourists. This proved a high-note of the day for the adults, though Max was much more interested in fossicking for gems among the gravel and sand of the harbour.

And on the fifthday we had a morning spare before we caught the 12.55 train - which was invariably late - to Paddington. So we went over to Lutton for a walk around the small village and through the Devon countryside with its great views across to Dartmoor  and its surrounds. This is hunting, shooting and fishing country with forests containing deer and grouse owned by landed gentry living in large houses. It all ended in sombre good-byes among the 3 little cousins, a meeting up that will probably not re-occur in years given the distance between them.

The train journey to London is best forgotten. It started late and got later, mainly because it was crowded, storing luggage was difficult, and it spent considerable time in rugby scrums at railway stations. We four ended up in different parts of the same carriage; the buffet car was a long way away and its contents emptied fast; and walking up and down corridors was like a hurdle race. I've travelled th route many times, but this was possibly the worst.

AS