Ladram Bay Caravan Park, Budleigh Salterton, Devon. Friday 22nd – Tuesday 26th September 2017

Friday 22nd Sept

It was a 140 mile drive to Ladram Bay in Devon and took us about 3 hours – not helped by the interminable traffic jam on the A303 (just to gawp at Stonehenge) and getting lost around Sidmouth, alarmingly being siphoning into smaller and smaller roads to get to our destination.

We eventually arrived at the sprawling holiday camp, with rows of static caravans separated from the touring caravans and motor homes on smart terraces fanning out from the entertainment centre and tiny lane leading down to the stony beach. We were greeted by a gateman in Ladram Bay attire and directed to reception, which was spacious, smart and efficient and manned by uniformed receptionists. Somewhat to our alarm our beloved caravan was unhitched and swiftly attached to a tractor which sped off backwards up a hill to our alloted space on the terrace, all we could do was follow and hope no damage was done. To be fair our escort expertly docked us perfectly onto our site and we were pleased to be in a nice corner plot that would afford us some privacy and shelter.

We’d planned to explore Budleigh Salterton which is the town near the site but it started raining once we’d pitched up, so we just took a damp stroll around the site and down into the bay. As the weather kept most people away we managed to get down to the stony beach with The Dog even though they were banned! This blanket canine discrimination never fails to rile me, especially as most people in these types of sites tend to have dogs. It didn’t help that there was no wifi available at all – I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help but feel a helpless isolation from civilisation when I can’t get onto WhatsApp, Facebook, Tweet, play my scrabble games or visit Google!

Saturday 23rd Sept

The day dawned grey and angry but the sun soon came out and burnt away the clouds. The plan was to explore Sidmouth and then do a walk around Beer and Branscombe.
Sidmouth is a lovely seaside town which we’d visited briefly in May 2016. This time we did a thorough explore of the shops, had a coffee then a walk along the front to Chit rocks. For some reason The Dog was particularly naughty, shouting at lots of dogs and being a thorough pest. We clearly need to tire him out more before we take him into civilised society.

From Sidmouth we made the short drive to Beer to do the circular ‘Country Walking’ route from Beer to Branscombe Mouth. The car park was on a hill with wonderful views over Beer and the coastline which stretched for miles in the shimmering sun.

The walk was billed as 5½ miles with some steep ups and downs, it was more like 7 miles and ascents and descents that would challenge a Sherpa!

 

 

 

It was a lovely route along the South West coast path with amazing views of the sea and cliffs. The sun shone and we were able to take a welcome break at The Sea Shanty beach café at Branscombe Mouth.

 

 

We then circled inland along paths and through fields where we fended off cows and took sustenance from the handfuls of plump, juicy blackberries in the hedgerows. We were all thankful to finally get back to the car and even The Dog had slowed down a bit!

 

We arrived back at the van glowing and aching and looking forward to a reviving aperitif before a lovely curry dinner.

 

 

Sunday 24th Sept

Once again the day dawned dull and grey but this time it never really recovered. We drove through light rain against a dull sky while Michael Ball on radio 2 was marvelling at how sunny it was in London….

After a lazy morning we went to explore Exmouth. The place was pretty lacklustre and desultory, and it was hard to find any beating heart of the town. After a bit of shopping we wandered around the waters edge of the Exe Estuary, and then drove along to the town beach which looked very unappealing with its swathes of green algae icing the sand uncovered by the receding tide.

 

 

From here we took a short drive to A la Ronde near Lympstone, a 16 sided house built and exotically decorated by two cousins in the 1790s. Jane and Mary Parminter let their imagination run wild in the house, covering the walls in feathers and shells, seaweed and sand. The legion of genteelly retired National Trust guides were very proud of the house, bursting with enthusiasm to tell you all about the artistic and daring décor, but I found it vaguely creepy. The famous shell decorated walls were on the top floor which was out of bounds for renovation – still as NT members it was all free, and the tea shop and grounds were a pleasant distraction.

So what else is there to do on a grey and dismal Sunday afternoon but to retreat back to the comfort and cosiness of the van, put our feet up and read the Sunday papers.

Monday 25th Sept

After yesterday’s grey and dismal day, today dawned with the promise of sunshine and bright blue skies. We had a number of choices of where to visit today but settled for Dawlish. It was a bit of a journey but turned out to be a wonderful decision. After the grimness of Exmouth yesterday, Dawlish was delightful. No doubt the sun helped, but the town was neat and quaint, bustling around a charming park laced with the Dawlish waterway, home to the towns famous black swans.

A stroll through the park took us down to the coast where the famed Victorian railway runs parallel and precariously close to the seawall. Back in 2014 a violent storm breached the seawall beyond the station and left a gaping hole where the trains had once run. This effectively cut off Devon and Cornwall from the rest of the country for two months and took a further 18 months until everything was fully restored.

After exploring the quaint and appealing bespoke shops bordering the park (most of which commendably welcomed dogs), we strolled South along the coast ending up at Croyton’s Cove. The Cove was delightful, a virtual cul-de-sac, with a sparsely populated sun trapped café and beach. As we sat drinking coffee and admiring the views, we made up stories about how we would spend our retirement at such a delightful spot!

We finished our visit by walking back to the town and going a bit further North, all of this pathway forming part of the South West coast path. We were able to walk back to town along the beach which The Dog enjoyed, even though by now he had slowed down a bit. Not so another little Jack Russell amusing himself by climbing the rocks and throwing his ball into the surf, barking at it furiously, only to catch it when the waves bought it back. I saw at least two people paddle into the surf to retrieve the ball for him, not realising it was all part of the game!
On the way home we stopped off at the charming Farm Shop at Powderham Castle to stock up on fruit, browse the gift and garden centre and have a coffee in the late afetrnoon sunshine – it was a lovely way to end our Devon break.

North Yorkshire: Sunday 6th August – Monday 7th August 2017

Sunday 6^th August

The first leg of our official Summer holiday where we venture a bit further from home than our usual weekend getaways. This year it is North Yorkshire, lulled by the promised stunning scenery seen in our travel magazines and reassured by many friends and colleauges about how beautiful it all is.

Our halfway stop was an uneventful drive up the M1 set in the grounds of Poolsbrook Country Park near Staveley in Derbyshire. Its a regenerated area previously home to an active colliery – one of the area’s claims to its industrial heritage. It’s a ‘Caravan and Motorhome Club’ site (previously Caravan Club) with all its inherent rules and regulations that strip away any individuality or quirkiness that we’ve come to love on our caravan adventures; but the site is clean and wholesome, neat as a pin and there was a pleasant walk around a lake right on our doorstop.

We eventually managed to set up the TV with some decent reception, but the fridge is giving us cause for concern and we are missing the awning which we didn’t bother putting up for just one night – all the better for a quicker getaway tomorrow for the second leg of our journey.

Monday 7^th August

After a night of rain pattering on the caravan roof, we woke to a watery grey morning and were able to set off quite quickly for our final destination at Whitby 110 miles away. Once more we got on the M1 and travelled further North with the sun coming out giving us hope that the weather forecasts for this week might not be as gloomy as predicted. Once we passed Pickering we descended into the North York Moors National Park. The views were stunning with the ground covered in purple heather for as far as the eye could see; the dappled sun causing the colours to sway between brown and pink – it was beautiful. As we drove down the A169 we crowned a hill and finally saw the sea with Whitby laid out in all its splendour, hugging the coastline.

We found the caravan site at the end of the Sat Nav instructions along a lonely road that ran parallel with the cliffs. Whitby Holiday Park boasts magnificent cliff top views, a short walk to Whitby and free wifi…or as we were to quickly discover – cliff top viewed behind 4 rows of other caravans, a 2 mile walk to Whitby and Wifi that’s too weak to take you to its own website! Still never mind, we were warned not to put up awnings due to the forecast of gale force winds overnight and tomorrow, so we’ve got some lively weather to look forward to..!

The fridge is a worry. Last trip we didn’t have running water, but this time we have no fridge! The Man has tried a few solutions but to no avail, so we’re in conference trying to work out what food we need to eat when, to avoid food poisoning! I’ll keep you posted.

We decided to drive into Whitby as we didn’t have a lot of time, so after parking the ice packs in the freezer with the nice man in the camp shop, we set off for a quick explore. Whitby was utterly charming, but absolutely rammed with people; car parks were full to overflowing, pavements impassable and the harbour side was packed shoulder to shoulder with crabbers!

But we got a satisfying flavour of the place and will look forward to returning later in the week for a more intensive explore. We went back to the van for a pleasant sunny evening sorting out the food rotation and prioritising our perishables.

After a lovely chilli dinner we were mesmerised by a stunning sunset beckoning through the windows and decided to take an evening walk along the coast path to Whitby Abbey. It was a lovely stroll along the cliff top straight from the caravan site, and the evening sky was enchanting against the Abbey backdrop. The sunset colours constantly changed and the Abbey silhouette was transformed at every angle. We walked all around the Abbey perched on the top of a hill overlooking a fabulous view of Whitby town on the other side. The walk certainly made a pleasant change from our usual habit of lounging on the couch after dinner, and we might make a habit of this new healthier alternative.

Tuesday 8^th August

Today’s plan was to explore Saltburn and Staithes, seaside towns situated a few miles up the coast. But the day dawned dismal and grey, with an ominous sky hanging low in the sky. Nothing for it but to roll over and go back to sleep! It rained and rained, there was no let up. The promised hurricane winds had never materialised and we were regretting not putting up the awning when the weather was nice. Now we had no staging area to shed wet coats and boots and towel down the dog.

Although we enjoyed a leisurely morning reading the papers, in the end we had to venture out or risk severe cabin fever. So we packed up lunch, coats and towels and set off for Saltburn, optimistic as always. The rain never let up but we braved the front at Saltburn getting completely soaked but finding some joy in the adventure and novelty of it all. We were a couple of only a very few brave souls who had come out to defy the elements, and there was an air of Bulldog spirit and satisfaction in the whole venture.

Nothing much was open and we had to keep reminding ourselves that this was a day in the full flush of the Summer holidays, but it was more like November. In the end, for want of somewhere dry to sit with the dog and eat our packed lunch, we rented a beach hut for an hour – what a lark! It was charming and kitsch. We sat on deckchairs and made tea and coffee to have with our picnic. We felt ridiculously pleased with ourselves, and smiled benignly at all the damp walkers peering in as they passed by.

We ended the trip with a wet and blustery walk along the pier. We planned to drop into Straithes on our way home but got a phone call from the Caravan site to say that the skylight had blown off our van and the rain was getting in! So we beat a hasty retreat back to base and found the skylight had been replaced by a kindly handyman, but the inside was soaked. The rest of the day was taken up with mopping and drying and draping seat covers and carpet over our tiny heater. This was all on top of the fridge not working….its hard work on a caravan holiday!

Wednesday 9^th August

Today is my 59^th birthday and it was lovely from start to finish.

A lovely leisurely breakfast followed by a trip into Whitby to visit the Farmers market to get food for tonight’s birthday tea. Unfortunately I had looked up ‘Whitby Farmers market’ on the internet not realising that there was also a Whitby Farmers market in Whitby Ontario in Canada, which happened to be on Wednesdays! Whitby Farmers market UK is on tomorrow (I thought it was fairly easy to park in town…). Never mind, we had a lovely mooch around the delightfully quaint streets and bought mussels and sea bass for my birthday at one of the fishmongers around the harbour.

After popping back to base to put the fish in our broken fridge (well cushioned with ice packs), we went to Robin Hood’s bay a little further South along the coast. The struggle and frustration of trying to get parked was well worth the wonderful visit to a most exquisitely gorgeous seaside town.

The sight of the majestic bay from the top of the hill sweeping away from the town was arresting, and a tantalising backdrop as you descended the steep cobbled streets. Little fisherman’s cottages jostled for space behind gaily coloured doors and tiny gardens packed with hollyhocks and daisies. The knee bracing walk down the hill was rewarded by a huge beach strewn with rock pools and framed by rugged cliffs and roaring surf. Perfection!

After walking along the beach poking into rock pools and just sitting enjoying the view, we eventually tore ourselves away and returned to the van to prepare and eat an amazing birthday dinner; mussels in white wine and garlic followed by sea bass. Absolutely lovely.

Thursday 10^th August

We woke to brilliant blue skies and glorious sunshine so decided to walk into Whitby along the Cleveland Way. This is the walk we did on the first evening when we walked to the Abbey, and this morning we were rewarded with a good daytime view of the beaches far below with the tide out and people poking about among the rock pools and what looked like a fascinating old boat wreck which was now totally exposed.

The Cleveland Way National Trail is a 109 mile (175 Km) walking route through beautiful and ever changing landscapes and scenery.  It was the second National Trail in England and Wales and was officially opened on 24^th May 1969. The Trail offers the best of both worlds, heather moorland and stunning coastal scenery (http://www.nationaltrail.co.uk/cleveland-way/information).

It was a beautiful walk past the Abbey again and then through the grave yard and down steep steps to the town. The views were wonderful and the town was bustling with the added attraction of the Farmers Market (although it wasn’t that impressive as markets go). We had another wander around town in the sunshine and then walked back along the coast path.

After a restorative cup of tea we drove into Scarborough. The sun stayed out and when we finally got parked on North Beach we enjoyed strolling along the sands (dogs allowed) until Jim peed on someone’s towel! So we beat a hasty retreat to a coffee shop and watched the world go by – overexcited kids, tired parents, sand encrusted toddlers and grannies bearing piles of towels and buckets and spades. We decided that The Dog was a lot less trouble!

We drove round to South Beach which was a different beast altogether; heaving with holiday makers, funfair music blaring out and the jarring noise of the enormous amusements arcades. We didn’t stop – just enjoyed it all from the relative peace of the car.

It was such a lovely evening that we decided to go for another after dinner walk and tackled the challenging path down onto Saltwick bay beach. The sun had set behind the cliffs so it was a bit shady and cool but it was lovely to watch the waves crashing on the beach and wander along in the ever hopeful quest to find a fossil.

Friday 11^th August

It’s time to leave North Yorkshire and head back halfway home to our third leg of the journey at Riddings Wood Caravan Park near Alfreton.  This was yet another style of caravan site, quite small and with neat individual pitches that looked well cared for and popular. Most of the clientele seemed to be under canvas with just a handful of touring caravans parked up around the perimeter.

We’ve got used to being without a fridge and have devised a labour intensive solution that involves the cool box, bags of ice and food rotation. We need to shop daily for our meals so once we’d pitched up we set off for Alfreton to buy tonight’s dinner.  Apart from there being no obvious place to park for more than 30 minutes Alfreton wasn’t especially appealing so we settled for a convenient shop in Iceland and then relaxed back at base recovering from the three and half hour journey we’d taken to get here.

Saturday 12^th August 2017

The day dawned bright and sunny so we were hopeful that our plans for visiting Matlock and doing a 5 mile walk in the afternoon would not be spoiled by rain.

Matlock is situated at the south eastern edge of the Peak District and the former spa resort Matlock Bath lies immediately south of the town. The town lies on the River Derwent, and has prospered from both the hydrotherapy industry and the cloth mills constructed on the river and its tributary Bentley Brook. The town was mentioned in the Doomsday Book of 1086 it was recorded as Meslach a hamlet of Mestesford, or perhaps Nestesford. In 1196 it was named Matlac (Wikipedia).

We wandered around the pleasant town enjoying a coffee sitting outside a quaint coffee shop and exploring the shops, and then went off to the car park on the A6 to start our ‘Matlock Alpine Walk’ from the ‘Country Walking’ magazine. The walk was advertised as mostly easy paths with some steep hills and 5 miles long………..4 hours and 8.2 miles later we staggered back to the car carrying an exhausted dog, and according to my i-phone, having climbed 82 floors!

We felt a great sense of achievement and had really enjoyed some of the sights we saw along the walk; Pic Tor, the war memorial, High Tor, a Roman cave and the Heights of Abraham, ending up in Matlock Bath. Lord Byron called the Derwent Valley between the two towns ‘Little Switzerland’, hence the Alpine Trail. We certainly felt like we’d done some mountain climbing by the time we’d finished!

It was a lovely bookend to our trip and were confident that all that exercise would promise aa good night’s sleep before we set off for home tomorrow.

 

Ulwell Cottage Caravan Park, Swanage

Friday 9^th – Monday 12^th June 2017

Friday

This month’s getaway destination is Swanage. Not a huge challenge distance wise, but soon after we left home we realised we’d left The Dog’s bed and The Man’s phone behind – not to worry, we can make do.

Then after a frustrating traffic jam through Ringwood we got lost within metres of the site after driving through narrower and narrower roads. We mistakenly pulled into Ulwell Farm caravan site and had to un hitch the van to turn it around in a very cramped area. When we finally found the unsigned site we were directed to pitch right next to the chemical toilet disposal – yeuch! We tried to move but were told all the sites were booked – not much evidence of that so I wasn’t best pleased. To top it all when we’d finished pitching up we found that our water pump wasn’t working – so no water! Still never mind, the sun is shining and we have wine.

After our negative first impressions the site wasn’t actually that bad. There was a mobile home site on one side with names like ‘Lazy Daze’, ‘Thyme Out’ and ‘Miles Away’, and there was a fairly well stocked shop and bar/restaurant. The site was popular with campers and there was a large play area.

Once we’d set up  camp we went for a walk down the hill towards Swanage town and wandered around pleasant Days Park just past the site of the old Swanage Grammar school, abandoned in the seventies and now appealingly derelict. The evening was warm and balmy and so we had a BBQ and were able to sit out and enjoy the evening.

My evening dog walk chore was a very pleasant walk up on the hills behind the van, giving me a lovely view over the camp site, Swanage and the sea.

It was early to bed as we’d stayed up so late to watch the election on Thursday night!

Saturday

The day dawned with spotless blue skies and gloriously hot, so I didn’t mind having to go to the camp showers due to our water problem. However, the three hook, interval shower that spat out boiling hot water for 20 seconds was definitely a come down from the relative luxury of my ablutions in the comfort of the van! I had to limbo dance against the wall to get wet and wallow in a puddle of other peoples verruca plasters and discarded hair – not nice!

Today we ventured into Swanage which I vaguely remember from a previous trip, but this time seemed so much the better for being bathed in sunshine, vibrant with day trippers and backed up by the Swanage Fish Festival. What a gloriously quaint British seaside town. Bespoke shops, winding streets, friendly coffee stops and dog tolerant – what’s not to love? We had a lovely wander, playing dog relay as we took it in turns to mooch around the shops while the other one was dog monitor on the sunny pavements. We ended up meandering around the Fish Festival buoyed up with half a lager and enjoying the vast array of fishy offerings.

From here we took a short drive to Durlston Country Park and spent the afternoon exploring the castle and gift shop with a very friendly and informed assistant, and then ambled along the cliff walk with frequent stops to take in the glorious sea views, dramatic cliff drops and swooping of sea birds.

George Burt established the Durlston Estate with his stonemason uncle, John Mowlem, on an undulating tract of land along Durlston Head. He built his folly, Durlston Castle, here 1886 using local stone. The ‘castle’ was actually built as a restaurant for visitors to the etstate and played a part in the evolution of telecommunications; early experimental wireless transmissions were made from the roof to the Isle of Wight. The castle became the property of Dorset County Council in 1973.

It was all rather splendid and made me so happy to be British despite the current shambles of our shameful ‘new’ government!

We rounded off the day with refreshments back at the castle before heading back to base to enjoy the last of the day’s warmth.

Sunday

The day dawned a bit more changeable than yesterday so we took the pragmatic decision not to venture on the steam train to Corfe, but do the Studland to Ballard Point walk instead. We had a lovely lazy morning and it didn’t take long to get to Studland’s South Beach car park to start our five plus miles circular walk taking in ‘Old Harry’, Ballard Point and Glebeland Estate.

 

The rain held off and we had a splendid walk along the cliffs with heart stopping views, and back across country through lush fields, past hedgerows buzzing with insects and thick with birdsong.

We ended the day with a restful meal in the camp restaurant where The Dog was welcome, and was so tired with all the weekend walking he was quite well behaved!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hendre Mynach Touring and Camping Park, Barmouth, Wales. Saturday 13th – Wednesday 17th May 2017

 

Saturday 13^th May

From the minute we passed over the border from England to Wales on the A458 between Shrewsbury and Welshpool we were enchanted by the rolling scenery; mountains loomed over valleys winding with rivers, dotted with sheep and their new lambs, picturesque cottages and farms nestling in cosy villages and all bathed in rare Welsh sunshine. We were enchanted, and it was well worth the 5 hour journey (with a brief comfort stop at the services on the M6 toll).

We knew we were in ‘real’ Wales as the road signs were all in Welsh with English translations as an added extra, there was infrequent wifi and radio 2 started stuttering!

We arrived at the camp site to a warm welcome and a friendly escort to our pitch backing onto a steep bank, and within earshot of the waves on the beach. Once we were set up, and after a welcome cup of tea, we went off to explore and found the beach a short and pleasant walk from the site. It was fabulous. Vast swathes of damp sand, regimented with weathered groins as far as the eye could see. The Dog loved it! A few people were out enjoying the evening sunshine and everyone we met was friendly and welcoming. What a wonderful place.

Sunday 14^th May

It rained overnight – we are in Wales after all – but by morning the sun was out and we were looking forward to exploring the local town of Barmouth just a one and a half mile stroll along the sea front. This time the sea was frothing at the seawall and yesterday evening’s vast sandy beaches were lost beneath a swirling, broiling cauldron of waves.

The seaspray frequently burst over the path, so we chose to walk on the other side of the road until the coastline fell away as we came into the town. The coast line here was bordered by vast dunes decorated with tufts of pampass grass and opened onto a huge beach dotted with dogwalkers, picnicking families, kids with buckets and spades, kite flyers and surfers.

The neat tall Victorian houses looked over the activities on the beach, and every so often a welcoming weatherbeaten chalet enticed us with coffees, ice creams or brightly coloured buckets and spades. It was everything a seaside town should be and all backed by enchanting rocky mountains which form part of the south-western corner of the Snowdonia National Park.

We had a lovely wander around the quaint town with its bespoke shops and winding paths – not a Marks and Spencers or Costa coffee house in site! We refreshed ourselves with a skinny latte sitting in the sunshine before setting off to explore the Barmouth Heritage Trail.

Straight away we we challenged with a steep climb up the winding street to the imposing church, St John’s. If we thought the road to the church was steep, the path further up the hillside of Dinas Oleu was a lung bursting, leg aching challenge! This was the first piece of land donated to the National Trust in 1895 and it was well worth the climb. The views were awesome and the hillside was peaceful in the sunshine and abundant with Spring flowers.

We made a welcome stop for a drink and snack on a thoughtfully placed flint seat. We made our way slowly and carefully down the steep paths and steps of the old town that has been built into the side of the mountain. It was enchanting.

Little cottages all built on top of each other separated by winding paths festooned with tumbling nasturtiums and geraniums, looking over peoples slate roofs and tiny gardens. It is alleged to have inspired Tolkein when he describes the Shire in The Hobbit.

Our next venture was to cross the railway bridge over the Mawddach estuary. The walk across the old wooden bridge gives marvelous views along the estuary towards the mountains and the 2930 ft Cadair Idris. Look the other way and there are are stunning views of the town with its hillside houses and the vast tidal beach. The bridge opened in 1867 and originally included a drawbridge for tall ships to pass through. It is now a grade II listed structure and is one of longest timber viaducts still in regular use in the UK.

 

 

 

 

 

We wandered back into town and had a welcome stop for a cool Peroni beer, and a bit further on we picked up a 99 flake. You can’t get much more ‘seaside vibe’ than that!

Monday 15^th May

Our hopes that the promised rain forecast was a fluke were dashed when we woke to the drumming on the roof and wind lashing at the awning! It was not a day to tackle Snowden. What choice did we have but roll over and have a long luxurious lie in followed by a leisurely breakfast.

We finally roused ourselves to venture out and explore Bala with hopes of a lull in the rain so we could walk along the lake. It was not to be – whether it was the gloominess of the rain or that Bala just didn’t fulfill its promise we’ll never know, but we just drove through town, past the market we saw in Barmouth yesterday, to a desultory funfair at the far end populated by obnoxious school kids on their lunch break.

We didn’t stop, but drove back round the East side of the lake through some very narrow lanes and ended up in Dolgellau, a market town at the end of the Mawddach estuary. It was a pleasant town with winding streets dotted with interesting shops but its lure was dulled by the rain, so we sheltered under the outside umbrellas at Yr Hen Efail and had a warming cup of coffee before heading back to the van to laze away the rest of the evening.

After hoping to log over 10 miles with our walk up Snowden today – we barely managed to walk a mile…!

Tuesday 16^th May

The day dawned dull and misty so we weren’t quite sure what to plan, but its our 31^st wedding anniversary so I felt that I deserved another luxurious lie in and leisurely breakfast.

We decide to explore Porthmadog (pronounced Port Madoc much to our eternal perplexion!). I don’t know why but it looked like a significant town with a harbour that might offer some diversion on dull and dreary Tuesday. We wandered the high street and explored shops unheard of in any other parish – which is always gratifying, but it was strangely unsatisfactory. So we thought that we’d explore Portmerion which we passed as we were driving and didn’t realise it was so near. The Man recalls its fame for ‘The Prisoner’, whereas I knew it only for its china. Portmeiroon ia a tourist village in Gwynedd, North Wales, designed and built by Sir Clough Williams-Ellis between 1925 and 1975 in the style of an Italian village, and is now owned by a charitable trust (his daughter designed the china). We drove past all the chintzy sign posts, only get to the very gates to be told ‘sorry no dogs’!. It’s a village! Why aren’t dogs allowed? We are responsible, we have poo bags…I was not happy and so we drove off in high dudgeon to explore Harlech.

Harlech not only offers a cutesy village brimming with striking azaleas, and grey stoned cottages, but there is a handsome castle and beach to die for. Harlech Castle is a medieval fortification built by Edward I during his invasion of Wales between 1282 and 1289 at the substantial cost of £8,190.

We stopped for a loo break at the The Plas in the high street, and had a very satisfying basket of scampi sitting on the terrace overlooking the awesome vista of Harlech beach far below in the shadow of the castle.

The castle allowed dogs, so was automatically a winner as far as I was concerned, and I was willing to overlook the hidoeus entry way to the castle – a steel and blue light state of the art gantry replacing what should have been a weathered draw bridge and port cullis. The entry fee was a bit steep (probably needed to pay for the entry bridge and fancy coffee shop), but the castle was a pleasant diversion. We wandered around, climbing trecherous steps up the towers to see the amazing views and  poking our heads into vast cavernous ‘rooms’ dripping with damp, conjuring up images of what it must have been like 800 years ago. It was amazing to think that the sea originally came almost to the foot of the castle, whereas now there is a vast golf course, railway line and hideous static caravan site between it and the dunes shielding the sea.

So we had to visit the beach as the final treat of our visit. The beach was hidden by vast dunes waving with grasses and reached via a long path roped off between the golf course. When you arrive between the last grassy hussocks the vastness of the beach is awesome. It stretches away forever toward distant hazy mountains and is unblemished but for two or three people walking with their dogs a mile or so away. We walked and walked and The Dog was blissful – his most favourite place is a sandy beach. The wind was fresh and cleansing and fluffy white clouds scudded through washy blue skies – a perfect end to our stay.

To view all Barmouth May 2017 photos go to: https://www.flickr.com/photos/clooneyloon/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Broadhembury Holiday Park, Ashford, Kent Friday 21st – Monday 24th April 2017

 

Friday

I dragged myself from my sick bed for our pre-booked (and paid for) April weekend getaway. I admit I wasn’t looking forward to it that much as I’d been weak and pathetic with a bad cold that had gone to my chest, and all I wanted was to lie about at home in my pajamas. But I knew I wouldn’t have to do anything as the Man was prepared to mollycoddle me if necessary – and a break in the caravan is always relaxing.

This trip was to Ashford in Kent. A first time proper visit to this part of the UK for us, although we did remember a dismal weekend away in Folkestone many many years ago. It was motorway pretty much all the way and would have only been about 90 minutes but for a lorry breakdown on the M25 hampering us for the first part of the journey.

We arrived at Broadhembury Holiday Park to a very warm welcome. The lady at reception and the man that guided us to our pitch were very accommodating and full of information about what to do in the area. The site was generally neat and clean with a just a couple of ‘abandoned’ looking vans tucked away around the edges – presumably these are the seasonal pitches that the site advertises. The shower/toilet block was lovely and warm and welcoming, with lots of room in the showers cubicles. But there wasn’t much else to the park. The dog walk was just a roped off one way track with fields full of brilliantly beckoning yellow rape seed tantalisingly out of reach, and the reception and shop closed at 2pm (and they’d sold out of local area OS maps). But all in all a nice quiet site with our fully serviced pitch serving all our needs (including reasonable TV reception!). The hard standing (which we are still debating whether we prefer to grass) lost out a little in the popularity stakes when I tripped over the new long dog lead and landed knee, hands and face first on the little sharp stones and sustained severe shock and minor, but aggravating injuries. Once I’d got my wind back and waved away a fellow vanner that had come over to help, I applied antiseptic and plastered up my knee and resolutely got on with setting up camp feeling very old, bruised and vulnerable!

We had a quiet evening with a little walk around the site and a lovely meal with lots of Prosecco to calm my jangled nerves. I slept a lot better than I thought I would!

 

Saturday

Even though we woke to a grey drizzle we’d both slept well and felt ready for anything. The cold shower in the van didn’t even put me off (apparently the water heater was mistakenly switched off!).

 

After our usual leisurely breakfast we set off to explore Folkestone. We had a lovely wander around the town and harbour, but the town centre seems to be suffering like many others we visit. Pockets of neglect and abandonment, probably due to out of town shopping malls and mega stores, but Steep street lifted our spirits with quaint bespoke shops selling artisan goods on a charmingly cobbled walkway that was in fact pretty ‘steep’!

From here we drove along the coast road towards Hythe, parking in Seabrook and walked along the pebble beach to Hythe and then back along the peaceful footpath alongside the Military canal.

The Royal Military Canal runs for 28 miles between Seabrook near Folkestone and Cliff End near Hastings and was conceived in 1804 as a defence against the possible invasion of England during the Napoleonic Wars. The canal was completed in April 1809 at a total cost of £234,000. However, the canal never saw military action, it was used to try to control smuggling from Romney Marsh and a barge service was established from Hythe to Rye. The canal was abandoned in 1877 and leased to the Lords of the Level of Romney Marsh.

A public path runs alongside the entire length of the canal, forming part of the longer 262km Saxon Shore Way. Aside from being historically significant in its own right, the path passes by numerous WW2 pillboxes and the unusual acoustic mirrors, the historic cinque port towns of Hythe, Winchelsea and Rye, the 12th century St Rumwold’s church, and Lympne and Camber castles (Wikipedia).

It was a lovely walk made all the more glorious when the sun came out. It did my sick and damaged body the power of good.

Sunday

The day dawned a bit brighter than yesterday, but with a bit more chill in the air. I hadn’t slept too well but it didn’t matter because we were on caravan time and could have a lazy morning with our full English breakfast listening to the Archers. This was only slightly marred by another shower fail – the water ran out just after I’d applied conditioner and I had to wait shivering while the Man refilled the water butt!

Today the plan was a visit to Tenterden, on the way to Sissinghurst, and the Gibbet Oak Farm Shop and Cidery on the way to Tenterden. The farm shop was a treat for the Man as pay back for the times he’s spent waiting outside charity shops with the dog so I can explore the local bargains. While he wandered among the cheeses, breads and ciders I wandered around outside with the Dog and felt I was on the set of the ‘Darling Buds of May’! The place was strewn with old gardening equipment, wooden hand carts, heavy rollers and old wooden vegetable boxes that would fetch a fortune in some chic Chelsea shop!

From here we went into Tenterden and had a pleasant wander around this lovely town. Lots of local shops selling bespoke knick knacks, which was such a contrast to yesterday’s town visit to Folkestone.

After a coffee stop we made our way to Sissinghurst Castle and Gardens. We weren’t allowed in the house or gardens with the Dog but had a lovely walk around the estate and lakes, stopping halfway for a coffee and a mooch around the National Trust shop selling the same things as they sell in all their other shops at the same exorbitant prices!

Sissinghurst’s garden was created in the 1930s by Vita Sacckville-West, poet and gardening writer, and her husband Harold Nicolson, author and diplomat. Sackville-West was a writer on the fringes of the Bloomsbury Group who found her greatest popularity in the weekly columns she contributed as gardening correspondent of The Observer. The garden itself is designed as a series of ‘rooms’, each with a different character of colour and/or theme, the walls being high clipped hedges and many pink brick walls. The rooms and ‘doors’ are so arranged that, as one enjoys the beauty in a given room, one suddenly discovers a new vista into another part of the garden, making a walk a series of discoveries that keeps leading one into yet another area of the garden.

The site is ancient; “hurst” is the Saxon term for an enclosed wood. A manor house with a three-armed moat was built here in the Middle Ages. In 1305, King Edward I spent a night here and in August 1573 Queen Elizabeth I spent three nights. After the late 17th century, the building had many uses: as a prisoner-of-war camp during the Seven Years’ War; as the workhouse for the Cranbrook Union; after which it became homes for farm labourers.

Sackville-West and Nicolson found Sissinghurst in 1930 after concern that their property Long Barn, near Sevenoaks, Kent, was close to development over which they had no control. Although Sissinghurst was derelict, they purchased the ruins and the farm around it and began constructing the garden we know today.  Sissinghurst was first opened to the public in 1938 (Wikipedia)

The estate is lovely and well worth a visit and was no doubt made all the more appealing by the wonderful Spring weather. We did a 4 mile walk around the estate getting away from the crowds and enjoying the fields of new born lambs, and all the Spring flowers in the hedgerows; wild garlic, primroses, rape seed fields and bluebells.

We drove back to the van through lovely the Kent countryside dotted with oast houses, and trim white boarded homes in neat chocolate box villages.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kingfisher Caravan Park, Gosport – Friday 24th – Monday 27th March 2017

Friday

We try to choose a fairly short trip from home for our ‘early season’ caravan trips to mitigate against any sudden changes in weather, and the subsequent need to be fairly near to home. So our first destination for 2017 was the Kingfisher Caravan Park in Gosport, 90 carefree minutes down the M3.

I’d read the Trip Advisor comments after I’d booked the Caravan site but tried to keep an open mind. Unfortunately we weren’t that impressed; when we arrived the reception looked closed and when I entered through the unwelcoming façade it was like stepping into Arkwrights! The lady on reception was very friendly, but check-in was basic, no map, no information, no enticing activities (except Dave singing in the bar tomorrow night) and unfortunately the disco was last week… As our stay unfolded we were disappointed by the general neglect, cold showers and very basic amenities. Never mind, we have our own haven of luxury and we don’t plan hanging around the site.

The weather is glorious and so, after setting up camp, we ventured out onto Browndown Road and made for the beach. Although mostly pebbles, Jim soon found a sandy spot and settled into a deep cleansing back roll! The fact that it was a military area called Browndown Battery and labelled on the OS map in red as a ‘Danger Area’ did not daunt us, and we had a pleasant stroll along the beach and through gorse laden heathland.

There is a strong seafaring vibe going on with a Diving Museum just down the road. It was closed for refurbishment but there were a number of displays of scary diving equipment that looked like something out of a Jules Verne film! This was an atmospheric diving suit and it was built in Germany in 1939. Apparently it was of limited use because the joints leaked in shallow water and seized up at depth! One of these types of suits was used to recover silver and gold from the wreck of SS Egypt which sank in 1922 in 128m. The value of the bullion in today’s money was £35 million – not nearly enough to persuade me to go underwater in one!

A quick drink in the popular site bar, and then back to the van for the daily papers and a relaxing evening in front of the TV (that is surprisingly picking up most channels).

Saturday

The day dawned bright and sunny, and surprisingly warm (if you kept out of the shade and wind!).

Our usual casual morning rituals were leisurely and relaxed. A lovely breakfast sitting outside in the sun, marred only by the Man’s negative experience of the camp showers; no hot water, one hook, no soap shelf, no seat – very low scoring in the ‘Odell Shower Scoring’ matrix! I’m just grateful I can complete my ablutions in the relative comfort of our van.

We went off to Gosport to explore the town. First impressions were a bustling Saturday morning town; a lively market, running along the pedestrianized high street leading down to the harbour, and a tempting short ferry crossing across to Portsmouth with the impressive Spinnaker tower dominating the skyline. The town is a little run down though – no doubt a poor cousin to its close neighbour, but proud of a seagoing heritage with lots to do on offer in the Tourist information centre.

The Spinnaker Tower in the background is a striking seamark in Portsmouth that was completed in 2005. At 170 metres it is taller than the London Eye.

After our town visit we went back to the van to recoup before starting our walk along Stokes Bay to Gilkicker Fort; a four mile trek courtesy of i-footpath. It was very pleasant, embracing woods, parkland and beachside strolling. Everyone was out and about enjoying the early Spring sun, but the wind whistling around the moored boats set up a cacophony of whistling and keening that reminded you how tenuous it all was.

Gilkicker Fort was constructed between 1863 and 1869 with the aim of defending the deep water at Spithead and protect the western approach to Portsmouth harbour. It was briefly armed during the two world wars, but its main accomplishment was routing thousands of signals, especially during the Normandy landings on June 9. In 1956 Coast Defence was abolished and the fort was then used by the Ministry of Public Buildings and Works as a plumbers workshop and its now waiting to be converted into residential apartments (although the golf course next door is not too happy about it)..

The Isle of Wight and the Solent were a constant companion and we joined the throngs taking advantage of the glorious Spring weather. We stopped at the rather deceptively grand Alverbank Country House Hotel on the way back for a lager shandy, and sat in the lengthening shadows contemplating the house’s glory years – now it all looked a bit run down.

Back to the van to sit in the last sunrays of the day, reading the paper, sipping wine and feeling very content with life.

Sunday

The day dawned bright and sunny and a bit earlier than normal as the clocks went back last night. Sunday morning and an indulgent cooked breakfast while listening to the Archers – marvellous!

Today was a trip to Fareham and then onto a six mile walk around Hamble. Fareham was fairly deserted, we expected more hustle and visitors, but it was just the odd mother and daughter out for Mother’s Day. We had a pleasant wander and a coffee then set off for Warsash to start todays walk; the ‘Hamble Ramble’ courtesy of i–footpath.

There was free parking right next to the river, and we walked up the riverside path to catch the Hamble-Warsash ferry from its distinctive and jaunty pink hut.

The short ferry journey complete with a jolly, white bearded ferry captain, took us across the river to Hamble and we walked along pretty streets and past posh houses out to heathlands and woods. The weather was glorious and the path was abundant with spring flowers; daffodils, crocuses, hyacinths, magnolias and camellias.

We walked up through Badnam copse and Mallards moor to Bursledon where we stopped to take in the glorious view down the twinkling river across to the Isle of Wight. A short walk further on and a slight detour found us at the Jolly Sailor for a welcome lager shandy and loo break.

The Jolly Sailor has been on this site overlooking the Hamble river for 300 years and was initially a vicarage.

From here it was over the bridge to admire all the expensive boats and yachts for sale at Mendez Marine on Bridge Road, and wonder at their prices (if you have to ask to can’t afford it!). Once over the river we were heading South and it felt like we were on the last leg home, but it was a long slog down the river path and we all started to feel a bit travel weary. Even The Dog slowed right down and stopped rushing from one sniff to the next!

The bird filled meadows and mud flats on our left and the busy river on our right was a fascinating back drop, but we were glad to see the little pink hut when it came into sight!

Four hours and 7.1 miles and we were finally done.

Tudor Caravan Park, Slimbridge, Gloucester Tuesday 1st – Friday 4th November 2016

 

Our last planned trip of the year and we wanted to go somewhere new but fairly close to home. The Cotswolds sounded appealing and so we set off on a simple (albeit boring) drive along the M4 and up the M5. The last few days had heralded beautiful Autumnal weather, warm sunny days and crisp evenings, but today dawned misty and chilly – we made sure we packed extra clothes and a mini overnight heater.

With me still suffering the after effects of food poisoning at the weekend, and The Man in the middle of a heavy cold we were a bit lack lustre about the whole expedition. We struggled to get the pitch sorted and found we had forgotton our chilli dinner, but we set off in good heart for a walk along the Gloucester and Sharpness canal which backed our site. We had to be quick because with the clocks going back, the sun was due to set at 16:40!

The caravan site didn’t make any stunning first impressions. It’s an independent enterprize and at first glance is a bit basic and sparse. You have to get out of the car to open the gate each time you come and go (hope it doesn’t rain) and the ‘new’ shower blocks were at most, ‘functional’. You pass one section of the site that seems to have a couple of old run down caravans permanently, but neglectfully pitched, which lends it all a rather depressing air.

There’s a pub right next door which will come in very handy. After our canal walk we planned to have a drink and maybe a meal to replace the missing chilli. But dogs are not allowed in the bar and our choice was to sit outside in the cold and dark. We gave it a miss and went back to van where there is always a doggy welcome and plenty of cold wine and lager served in an ambience of warmth, comfort and conviviality.

Wednesday 2^nd November

After a surprizingly restful night (The Man has a heavy cold with all the accompanying wheezing and coughing), the day dawned with brilliant blue skies making everything look bright and cheerful.

After morning ablutions and a quick walk along the canal with The Dog we set off to explore Stroud. I don’t know why we picked Stroud, but it was convenient, not as big as Gloucester and sounded appealing. It was a marvelous little town. Lots of odd streets and bespoke shops where we were happy to get a little bit lost. As well as forgetting the chilli (residing in the freezer at home) we found we had forgotton The Dog’s lead – left hanging on its peg in the van! So we improvised with the camera strap and set off jauntily for the first pet shop we could find. Lots of shops were dog friendly which made the town seem very warm and convivial, and we thoroughly enjoyed our visit.

From here we set off for Woodchester Park, a National Trust wooded valley containing a lost landscape with the reamins of an 18 -19^th century landscape park, a chain of five lakes and an unfinished mansion. Woodchester Mansion is an unfinished, Gothic revival mansion house in Woodchester Park. The mansion was abandoned by its builders in the middle of construction, leaving behind a building that appears complete from the outside, but with floors, plaster and whole rooms missing inside. It has remained in this state since the mid-1870s.

It was glorious. We did a circular walk to the mansion hoping for afternoon tea and cake, but it was closed for Winter. It didn’t matter – the woods were at their glorious Autumn best with gold upon gold of beech and oak.

Due to the missing chilli (am I becoming a bit repetative about this?) we needed to make alternative evening meal arrangements, so after consulting http://www.doggiepubs.org.uk we made for Frampton on Severn to sample the culinary delights promised at the Three Horseshoes on The Green. Alas, we were too early as the pub wasn’t open, so we left Frampton – deceptively distant from the Severn, and made our way back home. The Tudor Arms pub next to the camp site looked very unpromising when we’d arrived last night, but after approaching it from the other side and finding out that The Dog was, after all, welcome (albeit in the ‘back room’), we went in there and had a relatively civilised passable pub supper.

Thursday 3^rd November

This morning wasn’t as bright as yesterday and there was a decided nip in the air, but the sun made a weak attempt to greet our day and at times quite valiantly brightened the silver clouds.

I poured over the maps, guides and internet last night to plan our day and was a bit disappointed with the seeming lack of things to do in the area. There are only so many quaint Cotswold villages that you can admire and most attractions are aimed at families with children, not dogs. We are camping right next to The Wildlife and Wetlands Centre but alas we can’t visit with The Dog. We just had to be content with listening to all the birds chorussing us in the morning.

So today’s plan was to visit Gloucester, and then explore Arlingham, a town at the end of the country’s longest cul-de-sac and poised on a peninsula on a sharp horseshoe bend in the River Severn.

Gloucester was a bit of a disappointment. I imagined something majestic and historical like Oxford, but the town centre seemed a bit tired, brightening up slightly for the cathedral, and then completely giving up its identity (and soul) for the newly refurbished and mistakenly named ‘historic docks’.

It was quite depressing. All we had achieved was a brief admiring view of the cathedral and some arty photos (strategically cutting out the scaffolding) and buying tonight’s meal (remember the missing chilli) in Marks & Spencer’s.

So onto Arlingham. It meant retracing our steps through Frampton (assuredly not on the Severn) and driving on and on until the end of the road staring across the ‘Mighty Severn’ to the town of Newnham on the other side of the river. So close but temptingly out of reach, with jaunty rows of houses and a church spire beckoning all to admire on the rise of a hill, with the charms of the Forest of Dean laid out at its rear.  The river was at low tide and the fascinating Severn bore not due for another 12 days (see below), so we looked at the mud, both snapping out of our reverie at the same time when The Dog threatened to run off the grassy bank neck deep into it!

The Severn Bore is one of Britain’s few truly spectacular natural phenomena. It is a large surge wave in the estuary of the River Severn, where the tidal range is the 2nd highest in the world, being as much as 50 feet (approx. 15.4m). The shape of the Severn estuary is such that the water is funnelled into an increasingly narrow channel as the tide rises, thus forming the large wave. As well as the width of the river decreasing rapidly, then so does the depth of the river also change rapidly, thereby forming a funnel shape. Therefore as the incoming tide travels up the estuary, it is routed into an ever decreasing channel. Consequently the surge wave or bore is formed.

Someone had kindly organised four walks that surrounded the town, taking in various sites and aspects of the river and all conveniently passing the village pub, the Red Lion. We set off on an edited version of the Salmon Walk and enjoyed a mile or two of tranquil meandering with The Dog happily trotting at our heels. We were home in time to get the awning packed away before the sun went down.

Concierge Camping, Ratham Estate, Chichester, West Sussex. Friday 7th – Monday 10th October 2016

It was a leisurely morning as our Chichester destination is not very far and we arrived early afternoon. We’d seen this campsite advertised last year when I mistakenly booked a different site   – so we had always planned to come here at some point.

Concierge is billed as a luxury site, and no expense has been spared. The reception is warmly welcoming with an array of locally produced goods and a tempting little sitting room. While outside are a number of comfortable chairs surrounding a fire pit and sheltered by expansive canopies. We were allocated ‘sweet pea’, a pitch with more than ample space on neat hard standing fully serviced with the exciting addition of both a fresh water supply and TV! The surrounding manicured grass is tastefully restrained with an appealing metal border that is evident throughout the site and gives a consistent, ordered air. We are separated from our neighbours by a conifer screen with a smart fence bringing up the rear. In addition there is excellent free wifi! What’s not to love?

After setting up camp and a picnic lunch, we set off to explore the dog walking area and ended up having a good walk along Bosham stream and around West Ashling village (albeit motivated mainly by looking for a pub). It was quite lovely in the balmy evening weather – even if we didn’t find a pub!

Saturday 10^th September

After a very quiet and peaceful night we enjoyed breakfast with the papers (provided by reception) and then set off to explore Bognor Regis. George V bestowed the regis  on the town Bognor after convalescing there in 1929, but he was not much enamoured of the town as characterised by his famous expletive ‘bugger Bognor’ shortly before he died in 1936.

I can see a little of where he was coming from. Bognor is not a hugely appealing seaside town. The town vibes improve as you get nearer to the centre, but the ambiance is slightly marred by a run down atmosphere and tired seafront. The beach is fairly pleasant once you get over the pebbles and down to the waters edge, but there is not much there to appeal to the casual visitor. We bought some chips and wandered along the pier but there was nowhere to sit, so we ate half of them leaning against a fence then wandered back to the car.

Our next stop was the Slindon Estate, a 3500 acre area of woodland, farms, downland and a village bequeathed to the National Trust in 1950. We ended up in the South part of the estate and a stroll through the woods and around a large duck pond took us into Slindon village. If you were to design the perfect English country village it would be very close to Slindon, albeit lacking a village pub (#recurring theme?).

A circular lane enclosed quaint country cottages and regal houses festooned with hollyhocks and dreamy lavender paths, interspersed with glimpses of sheep grazing pastures.

There was a quaint cottage selling pottery and another selling the most amazing array of pumpkins and gourds, advertised by a stunning winter squash display! There was even a village fete celebrating the apple – Slindon Apple Day – with stalls selling local produce, apple pressing and a folk band all enjoying the warm Autumn sun – it was quite lovely.

Sunday 11^th September

We woke to saphire blue skies to accompany our indulgent Sunday morning fried breakfast while listening to the Archers – a perfect Sunday morning!

Today’s plan was a walk around Chichester Marina and Dell Quay, courtesy of the iFootPath app. And then a nostalgic trip to West Wittering to indulge The Dog’s love of soft sandy beaches.

The walk was wonderful. Just over 4½ miles around the marina, along the coast to Dell Quay with the Chichester Channel and all its delights on our left. There was a very convenient halfway stop at the Crown and Anchor for a cheeky lager shandy (and very useful toilet break) before we walked back to the marina via an inland cycle path. This passed the forgotten airfield at Apuldram – a World War II temporary airfield where Clark Gable made an emergency landing!

We stopped again for refreshments at The Boat House Cafe, before setting off for East Head at West Wittering. I remembered the beach from a previous visit and was not disappointed.

It’s a vast sandy vista stretching as far as the eye can see, terraced by salt weathered groins, framed by the white sails of boats on the horizon and the  vista of coloured beach huts against the dunes.

The Dog loves a sandy beach; his weariness was forgotten and he gambled on the sand, rolling in dried seaweed and smiling as he ran from one intoxicating smell to another. It was a lovely end to a wonderful weekend away. We never found East Head – but we can always save that for next time.    

 

Llanidloes, Powys, Wales.

Friday 9^th  – Monday 12^th September 2016

It’s a good job that I keep this Blog because The man and I have been wondering all weekend where it was that we had a lovely pub meal in the sunshine. Reading back on our last trip I could recall when and where it was – very handy when you’re getting on a bit and your memory is not what it was!

This is a long weekend trip and the 2^nd in our new van ‘Dora’. We prepared for a long drive as we were going to Llanidloes in mid Wales, and we weren’t disappointed – the traffic jam on the M4 added about an hour to our journey. Looking on the bright side we heard that the motorway was completely closed shortly after we must have passed.

We were booked into Red Kite Touring Park, a private site that opened this year. It was lovely, easy to get to, neat and trim with a warm welcome and a lovely view over a small valley liberally strewn with wildflowers. We got a pitch right on the edge and were able to pitch ‘backwards’ so we could take full advantage of the view (none of that CC ‘off side right to the marker post’).

We started the pitch up routine; The Man sorting the ‘outside’ and me getting the inside ready. As the evening wore on it became apparent that The Man was haiving some difficulty with the awning and when I stepped out I realised that we were in the grip of a fierce storm. The rain held off but the wind was whipping the awning around and ripping out the tent pegs. A fellow ‘vanner came to our assistance to hold down the awning and I made a couple of trips to the site office to buy hard core pegs and a ‘strap down’ kit! We spent the evening listening worriedly to the snap and flap of the canvas against the sides of the van.

Saturday 10^th September

By morning (after a surprizingly good nights sleep) the wind storm had passed and the van and awning seemed to have survived. A kindly neighbour returned our hitch cover, and we lost a peg bag, but that was the only casualty. The weather was dull but warm and we set off to explore the local town Llanidloes. Llanidloes is at the heart of the ancient medieval kingdom of Arwystli; the first town on the River Severn. It’s a nice little town with a street market and lots of charity shops. Everyone seemed to know each other and many were speaking in Welsh. As usual our coffee stop was disturbed when Jim took exception to a border terrirer – I think it’s the facial expression that raises his hackles!

From here we took a bit of a drive to visit Aberystwyth. I love the sea and try to incorporate a visit whenever possible. Aberystwyth turned out to be a quintessential seaside town with a charmng sweep of houses framing the bay that boasts a pier.

At one end the ruins of Aberystwyth castle dating from the 13^th C, overlook the Old college. The sun came out and we had a pleasant meander.

When we got back to the van the sun was out and we could sit outside and read the papers – bliss!

Sunday 11^th September

Today was lake day. We started with a massive fry up, listening to the Archers omnibus of Helen Titcheners trial – you can’t get much better than that!

First stop was the LLyn Clwedog resevoir and dam. It was a short hop from Llanidloes and we drove all around the resevoir stopping every now and then to take in the views. It was breathtaking and very remote.

We only saw two houses, and one track access for fisherman and the sailing club were the only signs of civilisation. The Clywedog reservoir was completed in 1967, and was built to supply water to Birmingham and the English Midlands. The reservoir was formed by damming the Afon Clywedog, a tributary of the River Severn. Its concrete buttress damis the tallest concrete dam in the UK, with a height of 72 metres and a length of 230 metres. The resevoir was opened in 1967 and to this day has been in continuous usage, generally filling with water over the winter months and gradually releasing it during the summer months.

From here we went onto Bwlch Nant yr Arian. This is a visitors centre with walking and bike trails at the head of a dramatic valley and views over Cardigan bay and the Cambrian Mountains. One of the main attractions was the daily feeding of red kites as a programme set up to encourage these threatened species. The red kite is now Wale’s national bird of prey and the feeding was spectacular. It was timed for 3pm and by 2:30 the birds were circling above the lake like planes stacked over Heathrow. People started to gather and photographers set up their tripods and huge lenses. The birds crowded over the site, and started their swooping and dancing in a wonderful arial display.

We spent the late afternoon looking for somewhere to eat but eventually settled for a delicious Chinese takeaway. A lovely end to another delightful Welsh weekend.

The Lake District: Friday 5th August – Sunday 7th August 2016

 

Royal Vale Caravan Park: Knutsford

Our first trip in the new ‘van, ‘Dora (the Explorer)’, and the new car, ‘Disco’. So very exciting.

We had a long way to go so prepared for the journey to Knutsford, a two night stop on our way to the Lake District. We were almost starting from scratch so had to pack everything we thought we’d need (of course when we got there we found a ton of stuff we needed like a lighter to light the gas, a mop and the dog’s Kong (all ready made up back home in the fridge!). Anyway we set off in good spirits and straight away something crashed behind us, so we pulled into the bus stop and found all the plates had fallen out of cupboard as it had a faulty catch. Onward we went and in the midst of our first traffic jam some kindly white van men next to us told us our sky light was open. We stopped at Warwick services (after a 3 hour journey that should have taken one and a half) and found one of the hub caps had fallen off! Never mind, we survived four further excruciating traffic jams on the M6 and finally arrived at our destination five and a half hours after we left home. We discovered our next door neighbours had come from Wokingham and hadn’t had any problem with traffic!

We spent the next couple of hours enjoying setting up our new pitch and playing with all our new caravan toys. The Man backed the van in with his new electronic mover (much admired by the neighbours), we pumped up our new inflatable awning and erected our lovely new wind break. Everything is a novelty and so much fun – like playing house for grown ups!. The old van was much loved but Dora is in a different league and we are looking forward to being so much more comfortable – we even have ‘proper’ TV tonight!

The weather has stayed fine and warm, even though dark grey clouds have loomed on the horizon every now and then, and we are looking forward to a relaxing week of day time exploring and the comfort and novelty of our lovely new van (and car!)

 Saturday 6^th August

Dora proved very comfortable, and it was a joy not to have to unpack the beds at night, but we had a slightly disturbed night because we weren’t completely au fait with the bathroom light and toilet flushing mechanics! Still, all in all we woke refreshed to an overcast morning and it was bliss to be able to shower and complete morning ablutions in the comfort of the van.

The morning broke into a warm, sunny day and we made a short trip to Knutsford to explore the town. Knutsford has traditional links to King Canute who forded the river Lily in 1016 and gave Knutsford it’s name; ‘Cunetsford’ mentioned in the Doomsday Book of 1085. Knutsford was one of the most important towns in Cheshire and county families would drive to the town for the famous racecourse in the 18 & 19C. Knutsford was a popular coaching station and bought distinguished visitors, and Princess Victoria stayed there 5 years before she became Queen. Today the town still exudes grandeur with high end shops, fancy restaurants and a McLaren car shop with a £195000 car in the window with a ‘sold’ sign on it! Every 5 minutes a Masserati or Lambourghini would screech along the narrow streets making the abundant luxurious hanging baskets swing in their wake. It was quite lovely.

Tatton Park is a stone’s throw away from the town and opened into a vast wonderland of peaceful parkland with basking deer, family thriving picnic areas, swan dotted lakes and hives of visitor activity in the Stableyard forecourt, sponsored by The National Trust and peppered with overpriced but compelling shops like the Housekeepers Store and the Garden Shop. We picnicked, walked, shopped and drank coffee – and all in the wonderful warm sunshine. A blissful first day of our holiday.

After a brief van based rest we ventured out South along the A50 in search of a dog friendly pub for supper – the George and Dragon at Holmes Chapel. Sitting outside in the evening sun with The Dog, (who was quite tired from his day’s adventures so fairly manageable) I felt quite adventurous and overlooked the safe dinner choice of scampi and went for a seafood rissoto – it was sublime.

Back to the van for proper telly and an early night.

Sunday 7^th August

Kendall Caravan Club 

It dawned hot and muggy again this morning and we packed up for the second leg of our hols in the Lake District. We braved the M6 again and were rewarded with yet more traffic jams that doubled our journey time. We eventually trundled up to the Kendal Caravan Club Site along a narrow road alongside the Kent river and the old ruins of the Sedgewick Gunpowder Mill.

The site is typical CC; park on the left, back offside corner against the marker…even though we are in a little cul-de-sac with no other ‘vanners within shouting distance. Still, we have a fully serviced pitch but as our electric cable was too short and we had no aerial lead it all seemed a bit moot! Never mind, the ever efficient CC had supplies in their shop, and we were soon set up with light and the Sunday afternoon matinee.

We went for a walk to stretch Jim’s legs after the longish drive and a fresh and windy stroll down the lane and over the river on a very wobbly wooden bridge. The cows were well behaved as we strolled by the river, but as the temperature had dropped a good few degrees, and the wind had whipped up some angry grey clouds, we decided to call it a day and head back to base for some alcohol and a curry – and probably another early night!

Monday 8^th August

The previous evening had seen some quite heavy rain and we’d gone to bed with showers pummeling the van roof and wind whistling across the skylights; but by morning it seemed to have blown over and left the sky dotted with fluffy clouds and a watery weak sun trying to assert itself.

After morning ablutions we set off quite late to explore Waterhead and Ambleside. We had poured over the maps and tour guides the night before, but there was so much to choose from it was difficult to decide how to make the best use of our few days here. In the end we decided that it would probably be best to avoid the more obvious choice of Windemere and Bowness, and instead head for the North end of Lake Windemere.

We parked up and wandered around Waterhead for a while, taking in our first experience of Lake Windemere and the patchwork of mountains looming in the distance. We were tempted to take one of the lake tours but it was a bit breezy and we had other plans so decided to take a rain check on that idea – may be another day. We went on into Ambleside and spent a couple of hours exploring the town and taking a break for a cup of tea and a toasted tea cake. It’s a very pleasant town but every shop is either a coffee shop/café or an outdoor clothing shop. There’s clearly a lot of coffee drinking between walking, cycling and sailing!

A short drive took us through Rydal, to the White Moss car park where we started our afternoon walk from Rydal Water, through Loughrigg Terrace and taking in part of Grasmere. It was a fabulous walk, taking in shady, sun dappled woodlands, lakeside beaches and challenging rocky climbs and descents. The views from Loughrigg Terrace were awesome. We’d walked about 8 miles and climbed 26 floors according to the health app on my i-phone, so we were happy to get back to the van for a fish and chip supper and put our feet up!

Tuesday 9^th August

Today is my 58^th birthday so it needs to be special! Unfortunately the weather Gods did not recognise this auspicious day and we had a day dodging showers! We decided that we would take a trip to the seaside today and planned to explore Morecambe. The thought of Morecambe conjured up an olde worlde British seaside town with ‘kiss me quick’ hats and candy floss, but Morecambe was, well….awful! I mean really awful – we didn’t even get out of the car. The seafront was dismally empty, bordered on one side by endless sand and mud, and the other by boarded up burnt out amusement parks and empty, desolate shop carcasses. We drove South to Heysham hoping for some improvement and the promised dog friendly beach but it was even worse, with the shadow of the enormous oil refinery looming ominously over everything.

We decided to try our luck at Grange-Over-Sands and as we drove North back to Cumbria the sun came out as if to reward us for leaving the desolate and depressing wasteland! Grange-Over-Sands is directly opposite Morecambe on the other side of Morecambe Bay – you can see the refinery squatting on the distant horizon. Grange-Over-Sands couldn’t have been more different. A quaint seaside town with an abundance of summer flowers along the promenade and the drab mud flats tastefully softened with lush greenery. We enjoyed a wander around the town and a stroll along the promenade. The rain shower delayed our tea and scone treat but it soon passed and we sat at damp tables enjoying everyone emerging optimistically from their brief shelters in typical stoic British fashion.

On the way home we stopped in at the delightful Farm Shop at Low Sizergh Barn where they had turned afternoon milking into a spectator sport. With chickens strutting about the yard and stables converted into a craft shop it was a lovely close to the day.

We treated ourselves to a birthday meal at the local Strickland Arms pub, but The Dog took exception to a fluffy Pomeranian in the bar, and we had to slink out in shame and eat our dinner outside – it was a bit chilly but we took it in our stride – we’re getting used to it!

Wednesday 10^th August

We woke up to sunshine. Today’s plan was a visit to Kendal to explore the market and then onto Tarn Hows for a walk chosen from the Countryside Dog Walks book.

Kendal is quite a nice town, quite big with lots of the usual high street shops, but also some interesting bespoke shops that were nice to poke around. There was also an abundance of Charity shops so I got to indulge in happy browsing. The market was OK, nothing special, but we were about shopped out by the time we got to it. There was a fabulous hardware store (Middletons in Market place) that was vast and stocked all sorts of usual (and unusual) household items and I was quite thrilled to cross an ice tray, clock and clothes horse off my shopping list (I am easily pleased).

From Kendal we drove back around the top of Lake Windemere and onto Tarn Hows, a small lake just North of Coniston, and had an enchanting walk through woods and grazing areas around the rippling water dotted with lilies and paddling ducks. It rained a bit but we didn’t really care.

Our next stop was Coniston, a short hop from Tarn Hows and we saw our 5^th lake of the trip! Coniston is a lovely village characterised by the stone buildings that were slightly darker than the more usual pale grey limestone. This gave the town a more serious air. We wandered around among the other tourists but didn’t stay too long at was getting late – and it was still raining!

Thursday 11^th August

High Onn Caravan Park: Stafford

It seemed to have rained all night and our hopes of packing away the awning in a dry state were dashed, so The Man just rolled it up and threw it dripping into the back of the car!

We packed up fairly early and set off for our overnight stop at Stafford. I wasn’t too sad to say goodbye to Kendal Caravan Club site. It was beautifully clean and well run but the trees were a bit overwhelming, making the site a bit gloomy and depressing. A bit like Eyeore’s Gloomy Place: Rather Boggy and Sad. The rain didn’t help but we can’t do much about that.

So I was happy to move onto Satfford and High Onn Caravan Club site. It wasn’t until we got here (after negotiating the endless narrow roads approaching the site) that we realised there were no facilities – and by that I mean no toilets. How can a CC site have no toilets? We feel like we’re really roughing it – but it’s only for one night – I’m sure we could manage… My lesson for today is to check out the sites more thoroughly and look at the customer feedback, After all, we like our basic luxuries!

We didn’t have much time but decided to go to Ironbridge and have a look round. The bridge is fascinating and I needed some inspirational photos. It was a delightful village, very chic with lots of appealing shops and the bridge was fascinating. Ironbridge is a village on the River Severn, at the heart of the Ironbridge Gorge, in Shropshire. It takes its name from the famous Iron Bridge, a 30-metre (100 ft) cast iron bridge that was built across the river in 1779. The area around Ironbridge is described as the “Birthplace of the Industrial Revolution” which is based on the idea that Abraham Darby perfected the technique of smelting iron with coke, in Coalbrookdale, allowing much cheaper production of iron.

It was a pleasant interlude and we headed back to the ‘van for our last night of the holiday. We set off early the next day, making a quick getaway without having to take down the awning and no toilet or shower facilities to distract us!