Note To Self: Don’t Judge A Day By The Weather. Must Believe!

Ok…it’s not funny anymore. I’m manifesting the sun from here on in. South West England is supposed to be like “another country”. That’s what they tell me. Someone forgot to tell the weather!

After 1.5 rest days at Serena’s, the journey continues. I spent last night in Glastonbury. It’s like a magnet to me. Love the place. Must be all that energy or something. It certainly does make me all nice and calm. I stocked up on food ready for my travels to Cornwall. Bring on the tropical weather! First stop was the little medieval town of Exeter in Devon. It’s a cute little place with a lovely huge cathedral. You have to pay to go in (hasn’t the church got enough money?????) but you can still sneek a photo of the magnificent ceiling without putting your hand in your pocket. The city wall is still intact in parts as is the old bridge that once crossed the River Exe. In it’s heyday, Exeter was one of four of the most important towns in England and was a big textile centre, especially the woollen cloth industry. It also had weekly markets and a number of big fairs, especially on saints’ days. So I guess you could say it was just one big party town. Probably would have given Ibiza a run for its money.
Next it was off to see some Dartmoor ponies. I found a lot of sheep (just for something different!) but the ponies proved elusive, perhaps because of the misty rain. I had to make do with seeing a rather large one in the doorway of a stable with a rug on. Something told me he wasn’t a wild native. I went for a walk at Postbridge, through the small pine forest out to Bellever Tor and the view really was super. The brooding landscape would be the perfect location for a romantic Bronte or Hardy novel. The granite tors are a real feature of the moors. They are like geological works of art. You really can’t improve on nature.
On the road again with Newquay in sight. On the way a quick stop was made at the Jamaica Inn located on the Bodmin Moor. This old inn was built in 1750 and was a popular hang for smugglers and highwaymen. It was brought to public attention by the author Daphne du Maurier whose novel was made into a Hitchcock film. It’s supposed to be incredibly haunted, so a quick toilet stop and we were off!!
Newquay is….well…um……an interesting place, shall we say. The coastline is stunning, but I must say, I thought I had left all the drunk hen/stag parties back in London. But alas no, they followed me here to England’s answer to Surfers Paradise. Having said that, the group of guys dressed up as old ladies complete with grey wigs and the group dressed as tennis players were really quite funny. Small things perhaps. On that account, the main pedestrian drag is good for people watching. Well….too much fun for one day!! To bed.
Random question of the day: Are Hunza apricots slipstone?
XXX

About Rebecca

Rebecca’s life is one big Walkabout, experiencing external and internal journeys as they make themselves known to her. She aims to inspire others to do the same. Her base camp is in Sydney, Australia where she’ll usually be found on the back of a horse.
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