Poetting in Totnes, plus a detour to Dartmoor

Having missed out on driving Son the Elder to Crewkerne last week - and enjoying a day fossicking around Dorset while he roboteered - because of waking up in the morning to the flattest of flat tyres that Could Not Be Pumped Back Up (and needed replacing), I was relieved to get safely down to Devon for my reading in Totnes a few days later. First, though, a stop on Dartmoor, my heart's home.

Hound Tor

Looking over to Hayne Down

I chose to visit Hound Tor, hoping that through the miracle of magical thinking, the late-flowering bluebells that cover the Down and Holwell Lawn might somehow be out, but as I suspected, I was just a bit too early to witness that glorious lavender haze that seems to float over the moor when they're in full bloom.

A few were just beginning to show their faces, though, along with heath milkwort, spring cinquefoil and marsh lousewort, which were lovely to see.

View across the Beckabrook to Black Hill, Grea Tor, Smallacombe Rocks, Haytor, Holwell Tor, etc

It was very warm for April, despite the breeze, so I had a bit of a sit-down on a rock. Up ahead a deer was grazing, and down in the valley, the cuckoos were shouting to each other.

The deer is in the middle distance, against a patch of green

Grea Tor 

Looking from Haytor and Holwell Tor to Saddle and Rippon Tors

It was then nearly time to leave, so I wandered back through the rocky outcrops of Hound Tor.

Looking back towards Haytor, you can see a face in profile in the rock

Looking up to Easdon Tor, with Hayne Down in the middle distance

Then down down down to Totnes, where a poster of me and my fellow-Bristol-poet-and-reader, Tom Sastry, greeted me on the door of the venue, which was the Barrel House and very fabulous indeed. I spent some time staring in every direction, open-mouthed.

Julie Mullen was our MC, and she'd put together a great bill, but first she read some of her own arresting poetry.

Then the first of two sets by the fantastic Bulgarian vocal group, Gora Ensemble, who were mesmerising ... 

... and an excellent set of funny-but-deadly-serious poems from Tom Sastry, reading from his new collection, 'Life Expectancy Begins to Fall'. 

And me, I read too, from 'Love the Albatross'. Here's an accidental selfie that couldn't have been better composed if I tried. 

It was so good to meet poets I'd only previously been friends with online, as well as catching up with real life mates, including my old friend Bob Mann, whom I've known for years and accidentally lost touch with when his computer died. Firmly back in contact again now, thanks to the poster on the venue door.

Then it was back home up the M5 and into bed at 1am, my five hours' sleep before the alarm went off leaving me to a zombie for most of the next day, but a small price to pay for a precious few hours on Dartmoor and a gig I'll never forget. 

Along the Watercress Line

And so to Hampshire for a meet up with the Brighton branch of the family, this time on the Watercress Line, a steam railway that runs from Alton to Alresford and back.

We met up at Alton and started our journey from there: not a long train ride, but pleasant.

The engine pulling our train had been painted to resemble a popular literary character. (Yes, it's 'The Thomas in the Iron Mask' by Alexandre Dumas.)

It was raining when we got to Alresford. We never seem to have much time to look around these towns we visit, by the time we've had our pub lunch, but spending time together's really what the trip's about.

my travelling companions

Despite the appearance of a hare making its way slowly up a field as we passed, I didn't feel quite as bowled over by the journey as I did by the trip up through the Severn Valley this time last year, which was glorious, but an excellent day all the same. 

Poems in the Toilet and Elsewhere

I've had poems published in collections, anthologies, magazines and journals, broadcast on radio programmes (including BBC Radio 4's Poetry Please), displayed in galleries and concert venues, but in nothing quite as singular as Bob Walton's brainchild, the Poemas en el Banõ installation, which is happening in one of the toilets at El Rincón, where the wonderful monthly poetry night Under the Red Guitar is held.

Athough it's been in situ for a few months now, I went in it to have a look for the first time in February, and found my poem front row centre, behind the toilet rolls and with an honour guard of bleach. 

On this particular evening, the guest poet at Under the Red Guitar was Philip Gross, reading from his latest collection, 'The Shores of Vaikus', which made for a magical evening.

Another lovely venue, also with stained glass, is Riff Corner in Clevedon, where Dominic Fisher was reading in early February. Hopefully now the evenings are getting lighter, I can get out to more poetry readings, like when I travelled all the way to Teignmouth to listen to - and watch - Raymond Antrobus read  at Teignmouth Poetry Festival in March.

A day before my trip to Teignmouth, we'd hosted Wells Fountain Poets at Silver Street Poetry and Open Mic, in a celebration of Sara Butler and her collection of beautiful, clear-eyed poems, 'Waiting for a change'.

Sara's no longer well enough to read her work, so that honour went to her friends in Wells, and those poets Sara knew when she used to come up to Bristol to take part in one of the poetry groups the Leaping Word runs at Bristol Folk House. Here are some of them:

Meanwhile, I had a guest poet slot at Virtual Voices, which is hosted by my former classmate at Manchester Writing School, Cherry Doyle, and Kuli Kohli, on behalf of Offa's Press, which specialises in publishing and supporting poets from the West Midlands, and it was great to spend the evening listening to readings by poets that were new to me. 

Then it was down to Wells to meet up with the Wells Fountain Poets for a reading in the King's Head, which always feels like coming home to me, such is the warmth and friendliness of that group of fine poets. No photos of the actual reading, but I was given a hagstone afterwards, which I hung on my bedroom wall, so as not to get it mixed up with the stones I've found myself, and very well it looks too. 

And then, to round off a very busy week, a reading in Heron Bookshop, in their new, larger premises in Regent Street, Clifton, which again felt welcoming, and a friendly place to read challenging poems. Thanks to Lizzie and Harry for their welcome, and to Emily for the photo. 

A couple of lovely publications, in which my poems have the honour of appearing, have landed on my hall floor too. First, Issue 70 of Indigo Dream's 'The Dawntreader', with almost certainly the most beautiful cover I've ever seen for a poetry journal ... 

... and then, my contributor's copy of 'The Butterfly Book', by Andrew Fusek Peters and Jane Russ, published by Graffeg.

Oh, and the recording of Words and Ears at Bradford Roots, which I blogged about a while back, is available to hear on West Wilts Radio's The Poetry Place, thanks to Dawn Gorman and Peter O'Grady. You can hear it here.

And that's it. My next poetry trip is to Totnes to read in the Barrel House on Wednesday 30th April, with Tom Sastry and Gora Ensemble also on the bill - if you're in the area and can be there, it would be fantastic to see you.