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.
Me, the man, our dog, and a van 