khunwilko

THis is the first part of my observations on a recent trip to UK.........

My plan was to visit the West Country and then up to Warwickshire and Shakespeare country finally ending up in London for a few nights before flying home.

For the first time ever, I was visiting UK as a tourist. I haven’t lived for an extended period in UK for over a decade and this time the trip had to take in as much as possible in about 2 weeks.
I found myself looking at the UK from a new perspective........ I was forced to re-examine a country I thought I knew so well.....everything is seen differently - from the major tourist attractions to the quirky habits of pubs to the state of public toilets – things I usually take for granted are seen in a new light. Furthermore UK has a reputation as an expensive destination – just how true is this? What would I have to fork out for accommodation, transport, food, sightseeing etc.??

A first for me - I had to book flights, organise transport, hotel rooms etc etc... I have responsibilities...

To start with, my companion needed a UK visa. The visa company’s web site suggested this might take about 5 days – on arriving at the office in Bangkok we were informed that “due to demand” the projected time was now 5 weeks!
We had done 2 things right though – made an appointment on the net before going so there was no need to join a horrendously long queue to hand in documents, and secondly we had all the right documents and some extra ones for good measure....the visa came through in 7 days!
I must say I think it is extremely unfortunate that UK isn’t a signatory to the Schengen treaty as we really didn’t fell like going through the whole process a second time to get the Schengen visa – later we were to regret this.

We then booked the flights....

Getting there..... Flying with Eva air we were upgraded from battery to free-range class...for no apparent reason apart from asking if we could be seated together...just before boarding I was pulled over to one side - my instincts told me to brace for trouble – but instead I was told we were going to be upgraded. The wider seats in economy deluxe and extra leg-room and leg rests make sleeping on the 12 hour trip a more practical possibility. The service remains standard but when you’re asleep it doesn’t really matter.
I’m not sure what other airlines offer this halfway class between economy and business. It usually costs about 250 dollars for the upgrade so those wishing to avoid the crushing experience of flying economy might want to investigate the possibility of flying economy “elite “ with EVA and booking in advance.

So the flight was bearable......food barely edible as always, but I have used EVA a lot now as they are consistently competitively priced and the obvious economy class alternative - Thai air – have got to be one of the worst airlines ever to leave the ground...and it’s amazing they even manage to do that at times!

Arrival at Deathrow was remarkably uneventful too.... – it’s still a rather grimy old place and very daunting for the first time traveller – fortunately the signing is fairly clear and there are plenty of places to stand to one side and collect oneself, get out the right documents etc.....the place s so over worked and worn down, even the new places look worn and shabby, but the huge crowds kept moving and we entered immigration.....two “officials” assured me it would OK to take my companion to the EU immigration desk (I have an EU passport) – on arrival at the counter the immigration official looked a bit miffed and insisted that I was my friends “sponsor” this seemed to appease him and he stamped our passports – the whole process taking only a few minutes ( I don't think my friend's insistence on wearing a mask to protect against H1N1 whilst standing in line was such a good idea though)...on to baggage reclaim and out into the arrivals hall.....push our bags to the car hire counter – the car is ready – the minibus to the depot and out onto the open road........

I can’t believe how quickly we got out of Deathrow - With a few hours of daylight left (good ol’ British daylight saving) we headed away from London towards Wiltshire and Stonehenge; we arrived at Holiday Inn after dark in the rain – it was colder than my friend has ever experienced - I thought that the standard accommodation offered by H.I. would be the least alien to my friend on that first night away from home.

Rather than drive all the way on the first night to Plymouth, where we’ll be based, it seems a good idea to stop off at Stonehenge.

Due to jetlag and the after effects of a long flight, we were up at the crack of dawn and couldn’t sleep – it was a cold wet morning - we packed and drove out to Stonehenge only to find that it was “closed” (until 9 am) – this was all the more aggravating as there is a crowd of people walking round INSIDE the stone circle – “special permission” I’m told. As a teenager I spent a lot of time lying around those stones and I didn’t need special permission to do it….now the number of tourists is so huge it has been fenced off and all the general public can do is walk around the perimeter at a respectful distance. I agree conservation is paramount but I must confess to being a little disappointed at not being able to actually touch those stones and “feel the vibes” again.

We go back into Amesbury and find a “café” for a traditional English breakfast – The Friar Tuck – just about as good as that sort of thing gets. -

On returning, we then are just about the first people in. Walking round the Stones we get us a foretaste of the weather to come – It’s July/August – the height of the British summer and the height of the tourist season and it’s 15 C and a light drizzle falls wafted along on the wind. Not for the last time out comes my anorak. I lend it to my friend making a note to buy another one ASAP.

For details of “special visits”, admission prices etc. look at - http://www.stonehenge-avebury.net/stnhngeinfo.html


At this point it might be worth mentioning that Admission is free to members of English Heritage and the National Trust. If you are a history freak it could save you a lot of money – just check that the places you want to see are under this scheme. You can get free or reduced entrance fees to hundreds of places. Standard adult membership for a year is about 43 pounds (reductions for students and couples). National Trust is about 47 pounds a year.

When it comes to seeing Britain I have to say that it is all about buying discount or membership cards. Admissions and travel costs in the UK can be terrifically high unless you carefully choose the right cards and schemes.
I knew where I wanted to go and for me the NT and EH cards were not the way to go but for some it could save the day.
Transport is another way that cards can save you money. For families –check out - http://www.familyandfriends-railcard...le/eligibility

http://www.myenglandtravel.com/englandukrailcards.html


It is also a good idea to get an idea of which cards you might find useful before you travel – there is a bewildering array of discount schemes available to tourists and trying to sort out which ones are good for you can take a lot of time and research. You can also get most of them on-line.

I’ll talk a little more about cards later.

Driving in UK. – This is a surprisingly orderly thing and so long as you drive with precision, should present no real problems.

Drivers from Asia and Europe are used to dealing quickly with strange and varying conditions and usually find themselves easily adapting to driving in the UK ...... Amongst those foriegners driving around the UK, who possibly find themselves the worst off are drivers from the USA. UK driving involves small cars, many of them manual transmission in high density traffic. Road regulations and markings are strictly observed in the UK and the relaxed, casual style of driving in the States is totally unsuited to conditions in the UK. E.g. – if you think you can use cruise control anywhere in the UK you are probably making a serious mistake.....unless it’s to stay within the speed limit.

Beware – there are more speed cameras per mile in the UK than anywhere else in the world – your tickets will be sent in the post and either waiting for you when you return your hire-car of follow you back home. It’s no good thinking that leniency will be granted as an automated camera has little sympathy. You might try it on after you have received your ticket though.

The motorway and dual carriageway speed limit is 70 mph (112 kph) – on other roads it is 60 mph, in built up areas 30 mph.
There are now several other limits (e.g. 20/40/50) both temporary and permanent throughout the country. You will have to keep an eye out for these as they are rigidly enforced. Many road works have “average speed” cameras – so slowing down for one camera is not enough.

bilboburgler

Great stuff a whole new perspective and very accurate. Wearing a mask into Heathrow would have been a mistake. Far too many cultural issues there

annhig

great start, khunwilko,

looking forward to learning more about us.

regards, ann

VirginiaC

Delightful so far. Looking forward to more.

khunwilko

Sorry bit of a delay as I'm snowed under with stuff that's piled up while I was away.

Stand by for Plymouth (Devon & Cornwall), Warwicckshire and London.

khunwilko

Sorry this is a bit long-winded....
Our visit to Stonehenge was over by midday. A listed world heritage site – Stonehenge is well looked after and relatively untouched by the “Disney-esque” style or historical presentation that so mars other sites around the world these days. A small unobtrusive gift shop, some cafe facilities and loos just about sums it up

As I said earlier - at the Stones we got a foretaste of the weather to come – It was July/August – the height of the British summer and the height of the tourist season and the temperature was a miserable15 C with a light drizzle falling, wafted along on the wind........so we headed off to the Plymouth, Devon and Cornwall, the counties of moors and rivieras.

I also got my first pleasant surprise driving – a car flashed his headlights at me as I waited to join the main road, and I realised he was LETTING ME IN – not warning me he was not stopping for anyone – how refreshingly polite!

Using “A” roads rather than motorways I been my intention as one always has the opportunity to stop more easily. Armed with bags of fruit bought in Amesbury – (Greengages!) – we were set for a pleasant drive.

Here we began to get a view of the Brits on holiday. The transport has changed a little – the “grey traffic” is even more dominant; still with caravans (pulled by a 4x4 is de rigueur) but now the campervan is in the ascendency, vast palaces on wheels group into convoys followed by streams of impatient car drivers waiting their turn to move on to the next procession of geriatric driven mobile homes. Roof racks and trailers bulge with equipment for camping, boating, cycling, moto-cross, hang-gliding – the hobbyist will have his day!...and another invention – the bumper rack – when the roof is full you can bolt a huge trunk to the back of the vehicle – just don’t forget it’s there when reversing! – My companion asks if they are moving house! In the mean time roaring packs of motorbikes loaded with tents, girlfriends and waterproofs weave their way through the throng.

Life on the road is very sophisticated in the UK nowadays.

Late afternoon we arrived in Plymouth.
A naval city for centuries, Plymouth owes its full and interesting historical background to its naval heritage – however this has been a double edged sword as the presence of a working navy in the town has blighted it’s development in respect to tourism – until the last decade or so that is.
The navy is gradually reducing its presence - and consequently its influence on the city and the general shoddiness is being replaced by a local govt that has had to look to other sources for an income. It took a while but they are now grasping the idea that tourism has possibilities.
The historic architecture of Plymouth has been under attack (quite literally) for centuries both by warring enemies and the more insidious assaults of urban planners and the jerry-built architecture commissioned by the navy in post-war years.
Enough remains to make Plymouth worth a visit....not necessarily in chronological order here are some of the famous who were born, lived, made their mark on, or set sail from Plymouth......The Mayflower (Founding fathers), Francis Drake (not Charlie), Charles Darwin, Dawn French (TV’s Ab. Fab), David Prowse (Darth Vader and “Green Cross” Man!?) William Bligh (Captain of the Bounty), Michael Foot (politician), Beryl Cook (Artist), Charles Babbage (C19th inventor of Computer!), Isambard Kingdom Brunel (Tamar Bridge).
Around the town monuments abound to admirals, Captains and other warlords who have in turn thrashed the Spanish, French, Germans or any other nation they could get hold of.....and of course memorials to the thousands upon thousands who lost their lives achieving all this.

The 3 most areas you are likely to visit would be the old town – the Barbican -, the Hoe and the “modern” shopping centre.

The Barbican – this part of the city survived both the German bombers and the urban planners – retaining the old streets and many of the old buildings, it is now the “seen and be seen” part of town with a plethora of wine bars restaurants souvenir shops etc and lots of cafes on the street and harbour front. The harbour is still in use and boasts 24 hour water now that the 18th century lock has been re-instated. It is used a lot by both pleasure craft and the local fishing fleet. There are plenty of seafood restaurants in the barbican to sample the produce from the market on the other side of the harbour.
Some pubs still retain a traditional air, but for my mind the 2 places to eat are either the fish and chip shop or “Cap’n Jaspers” – still an essential part of any British holiday is to share a takeaway out on the quay in the rain. Oh yes – and for my friend the B-Bar – a great little cabaret venue just up a side street, this place was an amazing surprise – live entertainment (Jazz, folk, comedy) almost every night and THAI FOOD cooked by Thai people! - Needless to say we ate there more than once.
To see at the Barbican – The Mayflower steps – no fuss just a few plaques and a photo opportunity, - surprising really for a small piece of architecture with a huge historical connection. The Aquarium - (it’s got one of those huge glass screens about 10 meters high or so??) - go over the lock to the other side – avoid rainy days the queues are endless!! Good pub-grub nearby. It’s a real yachters' paradise here so you can take a stroll round and spot the craft for your trans-Atlantic trip next year. For those less stout-hearted you can book a cruise up the Tamar river and back in time for tea.

The Hoe – if you haven’t been up on the Hoe you haven’t visited Plymouth. This great open space curves along the sea front from the Barbican across the centre of Plymouth and down to Devonport, giving great views of Plymouth Sound (not the local Radio) a huge natural harbour that gives Plymouth it’s raison d’être. Featuring Seaton’s Tower –the 250 year old light house great lawns, gardens and a great swathe of tarmac – this is home to such things as fun fairs concerts etc. The road along the front has plenty of space to park and admire the views, lots of purveyors of comestibles for the peckish too. There’s even a lido – if you fancy a dip – though it seems to be closed most of the time. At the far western end we stopped at a pub/restaurant right down on the seafront – I’m afraid it has seen better days – stinking of stale beer and with sticky carpets and rather poorly cooked food it was a good example of the worst of British catering....it wasn’t helped by the bizarre behaviour of the barman or manger. I’m sorry I can’t remember the name. Was it the Waterfront?

The Town centre was flattened during the war and the post war urban planners moved in – the dream was to create a modern spacious area in the middle of town for business and shopping. Firstly it is extremely likely that this project was mooted BEFORE the war and planners just took advantage of the chaos to overrun the old street plan. Secondly it didn’t work.
Several attempts have been made to improve this shopping precinct; the result is an improvement but still a mish-mash of band-aid style solutions. Parking in Plymouth is the pay-and-display type, so you have to remember to find a machine, go back to your car and fix the ticket to the windscreen – I kept forgetting and missed a £70.00 fine - I returned to my car to find a traffic warden hovering over the windscreen, pen in hand.
The centre is laid out in US-style grid formation; originally designed to accommodate motor traffic it is now pedestrianised – it really can involve a lot of walking up and down hill if you don’t pre-plan your shopping route. At the top end of the Centre is a new indoor shopping centre. What really is needed is for the whole centre to be covered over in some way; otherwise shopping can be a cold, wet and windy experience.
The recession has not been kind to Plymouth’s shopping centre, many local and discount shops have gone under and several of the shops have been boarded up – not to an overwhelming extent I hasten to add.
As for the goods on sale – well the usual high street brands (nice to see Ann Summers still open!) and one or 2 local specialities.
Eating – M & S (Marks and Sparks) have an eatery in the Shopping Mall, and variety of cafes and restaurants - look in the bigger Department stores for a cheap self-serve snack (and clean warm toilets).

There are also several PASTY shops. ......No visit to Plymouth or Cornwall would be complete without sampling a pasty. This “D”-shaped fold-over pie with hand-rolled crust is available everywhere and with a myriad fillings –Originally made for the Cornish miners to take down the pit for their “lunch”, there is much debate as to what was originally put in them. I believe the most authentic should contain minced lamb, potato, (swede?) onion and LOTS of pepper. They are now available with both sweet and savoury fillings such as “summer fruit, beef and stilton or “veggie” cheese and onion. The predominant name for pasties in Plymouth is “Dewdney” – Ivor Dewdney and his family have shops dotted all over Plymouth – and really t get the authentic taste of a Plymouth pasty, you should buy at least one from these shops – again, best eaten outside in the rain. I fed one to my Thai friend who politely ate half and refused any further offerings of similar delicacies for the period of our trip.

One footnote – Union Street. This street was the legendary “R & R” street for the matelots – for hundreds of years its mix of bars and brothels served the needs of drunken servicemen not just from the UK but visiting allies too. It burgeoned into the night life centre for Plymouth and in the 70s and 80s was strewn with massive night clubs and dance halls. But the drunkenness and violence became too much for the local fathers and the place has now shrunk to a shadow of its former self. However if you are up late at night, it’s still worth a drive by, if only to see a fight outside a chip-shop or some of the ugliest ladies of the night you’ve ever seen!


As for accommodation, for the duration we stayed with family and friends, so no hotel required I did however check a few “cheapies” out for a visiting friend.
Plymouth has all the usual “chain” hotels – Novotel, Holiday inn etc – the Holiday Inn is right by the Hoe and at less than 200 per night could be a great place for a short visit. The roads leading up to the Hoe are full of houses converted to hotels and gust houses and the price and quality varies immensely. I would not commit blind to any length of stay in one as it might become necessary to move on! Prices ranged from 20 to 100 quid a night; some of these places make the legendary “Fawltey Towers” look good. Quite frankly some rooms I looked at were asking quite unjustifiably high prices – maybe trying to take advantage of the peak season to get them through the recession. 100 quid will get you a perfectly good clean double room at most chain hotels/motels so why pay that for some lop-sided, cramped dimly-lit backroom in a hotel with little or no facilities? I must mention one place I looked at – I think it was called the Quality Inn. (a Choice Hotel) – this small 60s tower-block building has seen better days – but it overlooks the Hoe and for about 65 pounds you can get a double room with a view from one end of Plymouth harbour to the other – I can’t speak for the service, but it seems to be about the best value along the hoe especially for those on a tight budget.

Next – outside Plymouth – Devon and Cornwall – Brits in the rain

khunwilko

Maybe it was the wind, but "gust" house is of course "guest" house

khunwilko

One of the bonuses of staying in Plymouth is its location. Sitting on the Tamar, the border between Devon and Cornwall, it is a great place to tour from and the surrounding countryside is some of the most picturesque in the UK.

Some of the places we took in included, Dartmouth, Mothecombe, in Devon, Whtisands, Cawsands, Seaton, St Agnes, Truro and the Eden Project in Cornwall.
Devon and Cornwall are counties with a heritage much of which is centred round the sea. The wrinkly coast is littered with small harbours, the old fishing fleets have mostly disappeared along with their catch. The towns and villages now make their living from tourism; leisure boats of all description fill the harbours. Along with the rocky inlets and harbours are sandy beaches, some especially on the North coast are good surfing beaches, attracting crowds of surfies who party away throughout the summer (some even stay for the big swells of winter!).

A note here about the weather........By now I could see that my Thai companion was getting seriously homesick and depressed and the weather wasn’t helping..... We had spent nearly a week in UK and the weather had varied from poor to desperate. Cloud drizzle and cold were the order of almost every day. The house was cold and our hosts seemed oblivious to our suffering, we were spending more and more time under a collection of duvets. Showering was dreaded as the post shower chill was agony. Although we got out and drove about the relentless and monotonous weather was grinding us both down...even me – who had lived in UK, could not come to terms with the fact that this was meant to be the height of summer.
Eventually, we went into town and purchase wet weather clothing....we found a great place in the shopping mall... - Mountain something – a wide range or weather-proof gear and all very well priced...(it’s not as if we would ever wear the stuff back home!). Armed with fleeces and anoraks/kagools we felt better equipped to face the vagaries of the British climate.

I know it’s daft, but It is difficult not to blame the Brits personally for this weather.... our pleas for warmth were met with a nonchalant wave of the hand and we were told that the central heating didn’t come on till winter! .... and this kind of sums it up for the Brits – no matter what the reality is, what the temperature, wind or rain, IT IS SUMMER and therefore one behaves as if it is SUMMER. Nothing can prevent the Brits from enjoying their summer, even a few little drawbacks like it is as cold as bloody winter, everything is swathed in mist and the sky is a dark battleship grey.

“..... Beside the seaside, beside the sea”.....

So hopefully insulated against the weather we ventured out again – hoping to dispel some of my friend’s gloom with a look at the English seaside.

If the Brits are on holiday by the sea...that’s where they’ll be – beside the sea.....whatever the weather it’s the summer “hols” and they have 2 weeks; and By God! Nothing is going to deprive them of their 2 weeks on the beach.....and from deep inside a fleece and kagool, my friend does mange to raise a smile looking at the strange ways the Brits pass their time on the beach.........

Windbreaks, umbrellas and piles of sand covered in towels and mats all serve to protect from the worst of the weather....like a bedraggled army the tourists dig themselves in. Behind these defences beachwear will still be worn, swimming trunks, shorts, t-shirts and bikinis.....skin white pink and blotchy blue from the cold, the odd rain-shower is no longer a problem.

.........then the earthworks continue....apparently in a frenzied attempt to change the beach before the tide returns, frantic digging starts in the sand all over the beach –children equipped with bucket and spade are encouraged to engage in minor acts of civil engineering;....castles erupt out of the sand, seawater channelled into a network of canals to irrigate their moats; any streams crossing the beach are dammed, elderly relatives are buried in shallow graves, only their faces protruding above the ground – a ghoulish activity preparing them for things to come?...babies sit legs akimbo feeling handfuls of sand and then stuffing fistfuls in their mouths turn crying to their mothers. Others simply dig enormous holes or tunnels...clumps of sand fly intermittently out of a hole as someone inside feverishly digs ever deeper.......people have given their lives doing this!


As with all British work there comes a time for a break – tea!....or a picnic. Groups of pink and white semi-naked people gather round a mat laid on the sand for something to eat and drink. My friend was totally perplexed as to why one would want to eat it such a hostile environment....the beach on a wet and windy day is not the most obvious location for eating.
Out comes the Tupperware - On the menu? –, home-made cakes, biscuits etc. and sandwiches, which by now all contain real sand!....turning eat mouthful into a gritty ordeal. From the vendor’s caravan nearby; the ubiquitous pasty – the traditional Cornish pie, resembling a Calzone in construction , usually filled with meat and potatoes, accompanied by ice-cream and soft drinks (sodas) and packets of crisps (potato chips to you) or even chips (French fries to you).....All served with a tooth grinding sprinkling of sand.
And of course tea! – from a “Thermos” or brewed on a small camping stove, or even bought from the nearby vendor.

After a brief rest the earthworks resume. We were able to witness some other beach activities too. To my friend’s horror, not only do people strip practically naked on the beach, they even go in the water.
To a Thai person this presents several layers of strange, even unacceptable behaviour. Firstly few Thai women would consider wearing less on the beach than shorts and T-shirt, even when swimming, a one piece is bad enough, but a skimpy bikini is totally out of the question......when I say that topless is not unheard of, I’m looked at in disbelief. Secondly how could anyone go into the sea when it is this cold?? Unlike the British who are intrinsically bonded to the sea, Thai people regard it with suspicion or at least caution...going in under any circumstances is regarded circumspectly – to go into cold water and then swim possibly out of one’s depth amongst waves is regarded as downright reckless.

Entering the sea also requires equipment. An array of inflatable devices meets these needs – rings, wings, bats, boats and li-los all quite capable of whisking their unsuspecting crew quickly out to sea on wind rip and tide never to be seen again........this is the bottom of the scale – next is the serious side; passion for outdoor pursuits……….

bilboburgler

Yep the Brits love the summer. Did you know that per head of poppulation we have more open top cars than anyone else. I do myself and this is despite the fact that last year I never had it open at all as the summer was so bad

nona1

I love your description of British beach life! so true...

irishface

I am loving your report! Thanks for breaking it into readable paragraphs. I am rolling on the floor with laughter at some of your descriptions! Especially today's word picture of a holiday at the beach. You seem to be making the best of crumby weather and other less than ideal conditions. looking forward to more. Please keep it coming.

Thanks in advance!

VirginiaC

Reading this is such a pleasure. Can't wait for more.

309pbg

I looooovvvveee your writing! I feel as if I, also, am on that windy, cold beach watching the action.......more please.
P

helen_belsize

Love your anthropological viewpoint. Some of us do put our heating on, 2008 mine barely got turned off. You are clearly demonstrating why for people resident in the British Isles ice in drinks is not often necessary. Hot tea on the beach is the answer. Being buried or building sand castles keeps one warm.

thursdaysd

Such a great report! I grew up in England, and well remember needing a wind-break on the beach. I don't turn my heat at home up to normal US levels, but I still tend to shiver when I go back to England, at least in the winter.

annhig

brilliant, khunwilko, just brilliant. you've got us down to a tee. [or should that be tea?]

i have to go to work in Plymouth sometimes and you are dead right about the centre - it is a real punishment to walk up that hill, which of course you have to do if you are going to get from the Hoe [where the courts are] to the railway station. I confess that I normally drive. I have stayed in the holiday Inn on the Hoe and it does what it says on the tin - a reasonably priced chain with a decent restaurant and indoor pool, and it's close to the court. not a bargain, but reasonable if you are on business.

I'm in the "putting the heating on if you need it whatever the season" school - we managed to go on holiday during the only decent week this year, to a place where it rained almost incessantly - LOL. so I know just how you felt.

I find that a hot water bottle is a must for all but two or three weeks of the summer, and if you haven't got one of those, a passing dog or cat!

do keep telling like it is,

regards, ann

khunwilko

Thanks for all the positive comments - I'm still working on the next bit, please bear with me.......

khunwilko

Despite the unpredictable weather, the Brits are very fond of any kind of outdoor pursuit; either on land or sea........for those who love the sea the range of options is enormous.

WHAT A DIFFERENCE A BAY MAKES –

After the beaches we explored some of the harbours and estuaries – Devon and Cornish fishing villages have got to rank amongst some of the most picturesque sights in the world. Narrow lanes wind down “combes” and valleys to ancient villages crammed into a small nook in the coastline – for centuries fishermen here have eked a living out of the sea. These secluded harbours a long way from the prying eyes of London based taxmen also made them ideal haunts for smugglers. Now the main industry is tourism.

It’s amazing the difference a bit of extra coastline can make. Thailand is part of a peninsular and has some beautiful coast line together with a warm and in general friendly climate. Yet in general the populace turns their collective nose up at the sea and all it has to offer. Drop the “pen”, and in “insular” Britain, despite cold, storms, waves and tides the obsession with all things nautical is practically universal. In UK it’s impossible to be more than 80 miles or so from the salty water! And you’ll certainly be closer than that to a sailor!


On the beaches gangs of surfers were chasing waves – following wide and tide from beach to beach, coast to coast. The normally rough water tends to eliminate such things as Water-skiers banana-boats and jetskis – my friend asked about these and I pointed out that your chances of staying on a banana-boat in these waters for more than a few seconds was minimal....anyway, who wants a bananaboat when you’ve got a boat of you own!? ....

Where beach is replaced by harbour, estuary or rocks the British still know what to do...

Harbours throng with small craft, fishing boats – or should I say “sea angling” boats? – Rowing boats, kayaks, outboards, inboards, and sailing boats of all sizes. Weaving in and out of each other or moored in sweeping lines up and down the river or docked in marinas and quays.
Anything from a car-top dinghy to a luxury yacht, the Brits are born to float. The worse the weather the more rewarding the experience and the greater the number of tales to relate round the fire in the pub later.

In places like Dartmouth and Salcombe sailing is King, (In general, larger motor powered boats seem to be sneered at - stink-boats to their detractors); herein the pubs, the middle and upper classes predominate with their artisans.....dressed for the part - “commodores” in Blue blazers sport a white navy-style peaked hat, bearded old men who bear a strong resemblance to Popeye sit in the corner drinking cloudy cider and look like they really do say things like “oo –aarr” and “shiver-me-timbers” and young “gorillas” who spend their yachting holiday by operating the winches on racing yachts and excessive drinking.
Blue and yellow clothing is the mode, together with the odd splash of orange and if you haven’t got a pair of those shoes with a strip of leather woven in and out round the quarter, you will feel naked.
I’ve never heard so many people speaking with plums in their mouths!

Strangely as we walked around the narrow streets I noticed that everyone acknowledged you as you walked past with a smile and a nod. Being a bit paranoid I’m still not sure whether they were being friendly or it was some kind of check-up to make sure you were the right sort to be there.

For those of you planning a trip to the coast, I can honestly say that it really doesn’t matter which fishing village you choose – I’m sure they all have merits and detractions. I like St. Agnes (North Cornwall) and the surf beach, also Bantham / Thurlestone (South Devon). For a lovely little family beach, I’d suggest Mothecombe (south Devon) – Access is through the Fleet Estate and they allow access via their footpath only on week-ends and Wednesdays. There’s a car park and quaint cafe at the top of the path. Any village is worth a visit; why not choose one by its wonderful sounding name......e.g. – Trewithian, Perranporth, Tywardreath, St Veep, Polbathic, Crugmeer etc etc.....

One other place that deserves a quick mention is the Eden Project. - http://www.edenproject.com/ - This is a series of “geodesic” (?) domes erected in an old quarry housing both Tropical and Mediterranean climate biospheres or “Biomes” as they call them. They are big! – be prepared to sweat it out in the Tropical dome – (there is a cloakroom to leave your outdoor gear in(.

Entrance – the standard fee is 16 quid – a measly pound off if you buy on the net – there is a range of discounts for kids, elderly and families etc. – at present they’re offering free pass for a year when you buy – great if you plan to re-visit the place.

I love it.....the tropical dome is fantastic, my Thai friend complained because it was too hot – there’s just no pleasing some people !!! – For me, inside this dome it really was a home away from home. Outside the main domes the entire quarry has been beautifully landscaped. They try to run the whole place as “green” as possible – (I noticed they used either rainwater or “grey” recycled water in the loos). There are a lot of events aimed at keeping kids amused – and edified – and plenty of viewpoints for the “olds” to sit. There is even a movie theatre to chill out and watch some stuff on the environment.
NB - You must take time to watch the nutcracker in the Core, the education centre!
The buildings themselves are hoped to be examples of green architecture and the whole establishment is devoted to education in and demonstration of green issues.

There are one or two eateries there – including a serious “gourmet” pasty stall – and although not the cheapest, I thought the food and menus on the whole was well prepared, imaginative and presented with thought...plenty of vegetarian options too.
Al in all a great day out and it is not really affected to much by the weather.


Next - the great outdoors and Dartmoor

khunwilko

Well when it comes to the weather you can either fight it or go with it – and let’s face it if you fight, you’ll lose. Firstly I decided to leave the West country a day early, but there was still one place left on my list for this region..........So, having looked at the beaches, I then thought lets go actively LOOKING for bad weather – Remember my friend is Thai, in Thailand they travel up North “Pu Kha Dung” in December to look for “frost” or fog – I thought if my friend is suffering from the cold – let’s experience the worst weather we can find......and there’s one obvious place; Dartmoor.....the military do survival training here and the unpredictable weather is legendary.

Just a short drive up from Plymouth will get you onto Dartmoor. We were now accompanied my friend an Australian psychoanalyst. (Or is that an Oxymoron?)The day we chose the temperature was about 16 C and there was a drizzly mist being blown across the moor; visibility was a few metres and the rain of the last week has swollen rivers........
We drove up through Princetown (the Prison) and Two bridges and back to Plymouth via Tavistock to look at the great Victorian architecture there. As for views, you couldn’t see a thing – but it really didn’t matter, what we could see was wild weather and wet sheep! Through the mist the livestock could be seen – The Moor is largely an unfenced area, and livestock roams more or less freely; sheep, cattle and ponies appeared, slashes of yellow gorse brightened up the mysterious rock-strewn landscape continually shrouded in mist and rain. My friend was curious to see the sheep had been dyed in various colours – presumably to denote ownership or maybe “tupping”. Visibility was so bad at times they were having a job distinguishing between sheep cow and pony.

We were glad to have kitted up with our gear (The place was called Mountain Warehouse, BTW) even so my friend was reluctant to get out of the car –until some close-ups of some sheep and gorse were called for. Apart from the livestock it was also apparent we were not alone – other people were also braving the weather to experience the moors.......shadowy figures would appear out of the mist kagool-clad families sporting waterproof everything; hoods, trousers and walking boots – they were here on purpose – they were enjoying themselves!!! – and I have to say so were we – outside, cold and wet can be fun. I think it is a Norwegian saying that there is no such thing as bad weather – only bad clothes.

Folks here have changed the bright blues and yellows of sailing for brick reds and olive greens – complicated hiking boots and thick walking socks – but as it is summer – shorts are still worn by many! – I was constantly reminded of the “knobbly knees” contests of the old British holiday camps. Again as we walked around slipping on the rocky paths we were greeted by groups of passing walkers with a smile and a nod – as if to say “Ah, I see you’re crazy too!” Couples families and groups, all hiking for all they’re worth, laden with back-packs of supplies for the day, food, drinks and layers of clothing. The age-range is enormous - Elderly guys with chin thrust out forge on, followed by their female companions, slightly flush cheeked, but not far behind, families; the father carrying the youngest on his shoulders and the mother carrying the newly bought pink rucksack that she insisted on overloading with her favourite dolls and now can no longer carry. Cameras and binoculars swing from necks, belts are loaded with canisters and zip-up bags, enough to put Batman’s Utility belt to shame....hoods and hats of all description protect from sun and rain.

We found a pub and some pub-grub washed down with a “real ale” (“Why is this beer brown?”) and then set off back to Plymouth..... on the way back I noticed a sign – everywhere in UK you will see the diagrammatic sign for a caravan and tent – CAMPING – we turn into a campsite to marvel at another British holiday obsession - - not content with braving the weather by day the British then decided to spend the night either under canvas or in an aluminium box.
I remember when my father bought a frame tent in France and the first time we erected it in the UK a small crowd of khaki-shorted holidaymakers gathered to watch us.... (my Dad had anticipated this and we had done several practice set-ups in the garden at home before going out on the road with it, to avoid making fools of ourselves in public) ....things have moved on since then – even the tents are palatial and the mansions-on-wheels are quite stunning with their tailor-made awnings, outhouses, TV aerials, gas and electric sockets, solar panels etc. Huddled in neat rows in the mist, I have to say they looked quite cosy. I’m not sure what the figures are but I get the impression that if you really want to meet the British on holiday in UK, you’ll have to camp.
My Thai friend was slightly puzzled by all this; camping is in its infancy in Thailand – there, some people still HAVE to live like that year in year out, as they can’t afford a “proper” house – why would you do it on purpose if you can afford somewhere to live? I wonder if we’ll ever see a “Buccaneer” or a “Bluebird” being towed around the lanes of Prachuap Kiri Khan.


Having taken hundreds of photos we returned to Plymouth having had a really great day out....but we hadn’t quite finished with Dartmoor....

The next day the three of us were to move on to Warwickshire, so I decided to take the route through Dartmoor and join the A30 at Exeter – the weather was much better so I thought it would make for a pleasant trip.
The moor was transformed – all was revealed, the sweeping open spaces and rolling hills, craggy outcrops, wonderful views. My Thai friend had no idea what had been hiding behind all that mist and fog...now out of the car, the camera clicked away.........we stood ancient bridges across streams stained brown with tannin and, climbed up a couple of tors found another great pub with lovely nutty beers and much to the disgust of my friend – ate rabbit pie! Further across the moor we stopped at a Cider barn. A lump of slate standing inconspicuously by a stone gateway had the word “CIDER” scrawled across it in Chalk....we turned into a rather scruffy and obviously old farm yard. An old barn, it’s thatched roof replaced by corrugated iron, stood surrounded by mud and farming flotsam and jetsam. An old lady seated on a deck chair stood up and beckoned. We climbed up a small slope and entered through a low door into blackness.....as our eyes adjusted to the light we began to make out the interior....the floor was lined with straw and a large vat on our left was connected via a shoot to an enormous wooden contraption – the cider press. How old this press was I don’t know, but it was the technology of centuries gone by......in the dim light the aroma of apples pervaded the place.
The press it was explained is filled with alternate layers of chopped apples and straw and then the whole lot is squashed and the juice runs into the next room.....we went through....the next room was filled with huge barrels – lining both sides of the barn. Here the apple juice is stored, – after a few months it contains about 10% alcohol.... The smell of apples and alcohol permeated the whole place. - a very dry drink but deceptively strong. The cider-makers art comes in here and they were offering dry, sweet and vintage ciders – my 2 friends took some small samples from a tin mug – my psychoanalyst, bought himself a large plastic bottle filled with the cloudy liquid.
We then set off toward Exeter and the Midlands – within ten minutes of leaving the farm both my passengers were sound asleep – strong stuff that cider.

VirginiaC

I am not supposed to laugh this hard this early in the morning. I hope you've found a publisher who'll pay you for this report. It's wonderful.