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Bristol , United Kingdom
I'm co-director of the Leaping Word Poetry Consultancy, which provides advice for poets on writing, editing and publishing, as well as qualified counselling support for those exploring personal issues in their work - https://theleapingword.com. My fifth poetry collection, Learning Finity, is now available from Indigo Dreams or directly from me.

Thursday 4 August 2016

Dartmoor and Shaldon Revisited

I'd promised the parents a trip to Devon so off we went. The plan was to have lunch at the Warren House Inn high on the moor but as we approached it, a vintage bus passed us heading in the opposite direction and I noticed that a strange, Brutalist bus shelter of a type still seen in Russia had been built in one of the car parks. Plus, there were lots of people running around in high-vis jackets, some of whom held cameras. They were filming a period film from a few decades ago by the looks of it, and as the road by the pub was crammed with vehicles, we kept on going, ending up in the Plume of Feathers in Princetown.  


My feta and tomato filo pastry pie was more pureed tomato pie with a garnish of feta but the Old Rosie slid down nicely and my parents seemed quite happy with their fish and chips. 

On the way across the moor to its eastern edge we stopped in few car parks along the way to take in the view - here, looking over to Bellever and Laughter Tors ...

... and across to Littaford, Longaford and Higher White Tors.

I'd decided to brave the narrow lanes through Widecombe to Haytor Rocks, but we were thwarted when we met with a road closed sign at Ponsworthy. 

I headed back across the East Dart at Dartmeet and crossed the West Dart at Hexworthy. This route had the benefit of passing Combestone Tor ... 


... giving us a fantastic view of the Double Dart valley up to Dartmeet with Yar Tor on the right ...


... and down towards Holne. 

There were wild Dartmoor ponies too (here with Sharp Tor as a backdrop). If I have a daemon or totem animal, it's one of these. 


A little further down the road, our way was blocked by a herd of South Devons.  I began to think the moor didn't want us to leave ...
... a feeling which was compounded when I discovered that the road to New Bridge was closed. With a sigh I headed down lanes as snug as elbow-length gloves to Buckfastleigh, and then back up the A38 to the Newton Abbot turning and on to Teignmouth ... 

... whence we caught the ferry to Shaldon.  
Time for a pot of tea and cake in the Clipper and a reminisce about the old days ... 
  
... before heading back home. 
As we crossed the Levels, a heron flew across the front of the car - my second sighting this week. Symbolic of lots of things it seems - I'll settle for prosperity, longevity, curiosity, determination, wisdom and working with Nature rather than struggling against it. 





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