We spent a windswept and cold week in beautiful Devon.
No trench foot but oh, so much wind. And, as we were camped on a west-facing hill, looking out to sea, from whence a MAD level of wind was howling, it was a challenging week.
My gorgeous tent is lovely and looks great but is not much use in such circumstances, there being no inner tent. The wind whipped the sides up as much as it could and others on the camp site lost tent pegs forever, returning to camp at the end of the day to find their tents in heaps and looking wildly around for sheep with Frankenstein's monster-type tent pegs through their necks.
After two nights we resorted to taking turns to sleep in the van with Frank and oh, the joy of just turning a light on to test BG during the night, rather than holding that torch in your mouth.
I took a few photos but spent also a lot of time with my hands in my pockets feeling grumpy. Andrew assures me I am rarely grumpy so I imagine ten years of teaching teenagers has made me proficient in hiding my true emotions!
A few piccies for you all so those of you across the pond can feel all worldly and knowledgeable about the UK ...
Setting up on day one.
We left at 8am and arrived around half four in the afternoon. Strolling up to the office to check in Frank flopped to the floor with his lowest hypo yet : 2.0.
Great. A week on a hillside and we begin by checking in and dealing with a major hypo simultaneously.
And look! Blue sky. Last we saw of that for a while.
On our way down the hill to Hope Cove.
That, my unworldly American friends, is a Devon ROAD. Yup. It's a road. Two way. All that green hides a wall made of flinty stuff (that's the technical term by the way, ahem) so if you misjudge it in your car, or say camper van, you lose bodywork. There are passing places but that then involves driving backwards uphill or downhill and not hitting the aforementioned flinty-stuff.
Keeps you on your toes, believe me.
I would so love to be a passenger in a car with an American driving down this road! Dan and Winnie, I volunteer you guys. Are you up for it? Detroit is easy, you need a challenge!
I loved this sign, all bent at the edge showing how someone hit it on the way past! And the wild flowers all the way down the lane were amazing.
The first few houses as you enter Hope Cove.
Hope Cove and a windswept boy. Both beautiful.
******************************************************
And then there were days of wind and rain and more grumpy thoughts from me.
On what was to be the penultimate might of camping it was Andrew's turn in the van with the boy.
I tidied up the tent. Made a comfy bed. Got my knitting ready. Got my book out. Lit the gas lamp without losing any eyebrows and settled down for some space.
But, that bloody wind. It picked up and buffeted that poor tent to the point that I got smacked in the head by the canvas so many times that by half midnight I lit the lamp again and read. Until three thirty and I was too tired to read anymore. After that I slept fitfully, off and on, dreaming of wild panthers (The Beast of Bodmin Moor had come to Devon and was in my tent!).
I joined the boys in the van. They were sleeping well and still happily in dreamland. I made myself a cup of tea and sat drinking it, feeling mutinous and very sorry for myself. Then there appeared a little way off but clear enough for me to see a group of three crows. Two of whom proceeded to peck the other to death.
Great. Lovely sight.
I have read enough Shakespeare to take this as a very clear and portentous sign to get the hell out!
And so, we packed up and went to a B&B for the night and oh, the joy of no wind. Electricity! TV! A bed without bugs! The wonder of it all. I felt like The Man Who Fell To Earth (didn't pee myself though, you'll be glad to know!).
And I smiled to be packing up and loved my husband more than ever for being adaptable.
*****************************
Back very soon with a call for help with my used-to-eat-anything-boy now being a mono-diet-boy. I am floundering with feeding him.
Little monkey.
No trench foot but oh, so much wind. And, as we were camped on a west-facing hill, looking out to sea, from whence a MAD level of wind was howling, it was a challenging week.
My gorgeous tent is lovely and looks great but is not much use in such circumstances, there being no inner tent. The wind whipped the sides up as much as it could and others on the camp site lost tent pegs forever, returning to camp at the end of the day to find their tents in heaps and looking wildly around for sheep with Frankenstein's monster-type tent pegs through their necks.
After two nights we resorted to taking turns to sleep in the van with Frank and oh, the joy of just turning a light on to test BG during the night, rather than holding that torch in your mouth.
I took a few photos but spent also a lot of time with my hands in my pockets feeling grumpy. Andrew assures me I am rarely grumpy so I imagine ten years of teaching teenagers has made me proficient in hiding my true emotions!
A few piccies for you all so those of you across the pond can feel all worldly and knowledgeable about the UK ...
Setting up on day one.We left at 8am and arrived around half four in the afternoon. Strolling up to the office to check in Frank flopped to the floor with his lowest hypo yet : 2.0.
Great. A week on a hillside and we begin by checking in and dealing with a major hypo simultaneously.
And look! Blue sky. Last we saw of that for a while.
On our way down the hill to Hope Cove.That, my unworldly American friends, is a Devon ROAD. Yup. It's a road. Two way. All that green hides a wall made of flinty stuff (that's the technical term by the way, ahem) so if you misjudge it in your car, or say camper van, you lose bodywork. There are passing places but that then involves driving backwards uphill or downhill and not hitting the aforementioned flinty-stuff.
Keeps you on your toes, believe me.
I would so love to be a passenger in a car with an American driving down this road! Dan and Winnie, I volunteer you guys. Are you up for it? Detroit is easy, you need a challenge!
I loved this sign, all bent at the edge showing how someone hit it on the way past! And the wild flowers all the way down the lane were amazing.
The first few houses as you enter Hope Cove.
Hope Cove and a windswept boy. Both beautiful.******************************************************
And then there were days of wind and rain and more grumpy thoughts from me.
On what was to be the penultimate might of camping it was Andrew's turn in the van with the boy.
I tidied up the tent. Made a comfy bed. Got my knitting ready. Got my book out. Lit the gas lamp without losing any eyebrows and settled down for some space.
But, that bloody wind. It picked up and buffeted that poor tent to the point that I got smacked in the head by the canvas so many times that by half midnight I lit the lamp again and read. Until three thirty and I was too tired to read anymore. After that I slept fitfully, off and on, dreaming of wild panthers (The Beast of Bodmin Moor had come to Devon and was in my tent!).
I joined the boys in the van. They were sleeping well and still happily in dreamland. I made myself a cup of tea and sat drinking it, feeling mutinous and very sorry for myself. Then there appeared a little way off but clear enough for me to see a group of three crows. Two of whom proceeded to peck the other to death.Great. Lovely sight.
I have read enough Shakespeare to take this as a very clear and portentous sign to get the hell out!
And so, we packed up and went to a B&B for the night and oh, the joy of no wind. Electricity! TV! A bed without bugs! The wonder of it all. I felt like The Man Who Fell To Earth (didn't pee myself though, you'll be glad to know!).
And I smiled to be packing up and loved my husband more than ever for being adaptable.*****************************
Back very soon with a call for help with my used-to-eat-anything-boy now being a mono-diet-boy. I am floundering with feeding him.
Little monkey.
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