We’re all going on an Autumn Holiday

No more worries for a week or two

(Sorry Cliff)

By the Photographers Assistant

The friendly and helpful farmer looking after Llancillo Church

This month we are off on a break and you are invited to go with us. Heaven knows, there is enough gloom, so let’s have a cheer up.

We knew that it was autumn when Wes set off to help close the little town’s swimming pool. There was a strange feeling around the house, as if this was some sort of closure, and so it proved to be. Soon, he would start closing his customers pools and he would begin to have a little more time to think of other projects. While the Photographer and his Assistant surveyed the garden and decided to plant some late spinach under a cloche, Josie and Wes decided on what they could do to help out indoors. Wes was happy that his bridge across the stream was now well settled in. He and Josie began to think of a long list of jobs which would update the house. The family had been in the house for a long time now and some of the initial work on it was showing its age. Wes, at first, looked to a couple of his greatest strengths. While the elderly were pottering in the garden, he examined a now aged shower room. This must be first. Tiling and plumbing were among his great strengths. The Photographer and the Assistant were in Josie’s car before they knew where they were. There was much grumbling at leaving the garden for the day. Tiles and a new sink were selected before they could refuse and so, the next project was selected. There was never a dull moment in this house!

It was Sunday and the Photographer and Assistant were packing. A holiday was in the offing. Josie was getting a lovely lamb dinner with all the trimmings. We won’t describe the roast potatoes. It would just be cruel, especially if you are hungry!

Monday morning and Josie was up and supervising the departure. After much humming and carry on, she succeeded in packing them off. She had a whole cleaning plan in her head and there were some friends to socially distance with. God only knew if her furlough would ever end. She so missed her job and colleagues . Keeping busy was for the best.

The two pottered off up the M5 and M4. They were going to the remote barn to stay at Sharon’s, where there would be perfect peace and time to relax after the rigours of summer and the lockdown etc.Sharon’s welcome was always warm and a bottle of wine and some welsh cakes arrived. Bags and food were unpacked. The Assistant had brought lots of cooking material with her. There were curry powders and poppadoms, garden vegetables, and loads of eggs. There was bacon for breakfasts and lots of bits and pieces. There were even some cooking apples from the garden.

The news on the Monday evening was not good. Here they were, on the Welsh border and it sounded as if some lock downs were on their way. Until now, they had assumed Wales was safe. The next morning, the two set off for Crickhowell with a long shopping list. Our own Bowdens has its strengths ie ordering paint etc., but Webbs has huge amounts of stuff that the farmers come to buy. The Assistant was after a certain type of saucepan set and a huge bail of garden twine. Photographer lusted over all the Stihl equipment any man could possibly want, but he knew that his loyalty was really with E Bowdens of Bovey Tracey. He reluctantly left with a few useful small items. Meanwhile, the Assistant was beetling over to the butchers, where an obscene amount of welsh cheese was purchased together with some strings of onions. The camping shop was as practical as ever. They even managed a cup of coffee at their favourite cafe. Poor Crickhowell.
What a wonderful example it was for Covid distancing. Everywhere was strictly distanced. Huge flower troughs had been planted in the road, so that people were helped into distancing on the pavements, and it was all so pretty. Every single person wore a mask inside and outside the shops. It seemed so unfair that it was so close to the area that had been locked down.

On the Wednesday, the Photographer managed to get The Assistant a slap up meal at the Felin Fach Griffin restaurant. This was the first time that he used the NHS tracing app on his phone. The two tucked into a smooth carrot soup, a mixed fish grill and a chocolate fondant to die for. The fondant’s taste was beyond description. You can imagine the quality chocolate mixed in with wonderful cream. Stunning!

The Black Hill from Offas Dyke

After this, the Welsh government began thinking about more lockdowns in Cardiff etc. When Liverpool was shutdown, 4 Welsh counties were locked down too. The Welsh Minister was asking people not to move about Wales any more than they had to. We decided to spend the rest of the holiday on our feet and what a glorious time we had! The weather was good and we walked for many miles. We took particular pleasure in climbing the Black Hill, otherwise known as The Cat’s back. What a climb! What a view! Bruce Chatwin’s book, “On the Black Hill”, about it came to mind and there were some broken down farmhouses, but the scenery was glorious. The Assistant’s grand mother had always told her of the glory of the Black mountains. You have to see them to know how true that was.

The Assistant reaches the trig point at the summit of the Black Hill

Our walking continued, and we always managed a lunch on a seat in a churchyard. The most difficult walk was to the church at Llancillo, a church under the protection of the Friends of Friendless Churches. It certainly was difficult to get to, situated in a remote corner of a farmer’s field. It was a wonderful example of church history with a Tudor Door way and a medieval preaching cross.

Llancillo Church. Supported by the Friends of Friendless Churches. Medieval Prayer Cross and Tudor door evident

It was visited often, and, in the same week, several people had been, including a visitor from China. There was a strict Covid notice, even this far away from the roads. Someone had been looking after the church. There were bits of cleaning equipment behind a screen and a beautiful white cloth adorned the altar. What a great save! So appreciated.

Freindless, possibly, but still loved enough for some kind person to clean and tidy

Our walk to Newton was taken from the barn.We set off with two pork pies and some fruit. The Photographer had his camera and had left the Assistant on the road, while he tried to capture a picture of a bull.

An actual Hereford Bull. Magnificent

In the distance, the Assistant could see a cyclist approaching. He was quite a way off and she was thinking about the photographer’s lenses when the bike stopped in front of her. A conversation ensued. He had pink trousers and an exceptionally bright jumper. It soon became apparent that he was about her age and that she might be being chatted up! The Photographer appeared when she had run out of conversation. The pink trousers decided that he would accompany them to the next junction, where he kept them talking for what seemed an age, until he decided that he needed a cigarette and would continue his journey. The two were very amused and beetled off to the glory of Newton, an agricultural settlement down a distant lane. Here, they found an undistinguished, but much loved church called John The Baptist, where there was a comfortable seat for lunch. It was not so glorious as some other churches, but it had hand gel at the churchyard gate and it was obviously a pillar of its community and much loved. Having lunched and connected many rural families in the churchyard, the two set off for a little longer, passing the farm machinery and homes, before turning around and walking home for supper.

St Margarets in Newton on a beautiful sunny day

Becoming ambitious, at the next opportunity, the two decided to walk to St Margaret’s church, which was further on. Here, was another glorious day. The two passed many houses and farms neatly arranged along the road. They were just becoming tired when they passed an argument in the road between a farmer and a householder, who wasn’t sure that the field next door to her house really needed to be so covered in lime dust. The two had St. Margaret’s in their sight. When they entered this glorious churchyard, they became very impressed with its size and its small wooden tower. It was sad, however, that despite its grand appearance, the church was firmly closed. We suspected that it was probably having difficulty with Covid, and security We did, however, find a lovely seat to have our lunch on. It became obvious that this was a seat that commemorated the memory of a lady called Anne and that opposite was a well maintained plot for her large family. All the women who had married into the family had their previous unmarried as well as their married names carved into their headstone. Another plot had also been maintained with the same practice. This seems to be common practice in the area.

We had walked ten miles on this day and had so enjoyed the glory of the fabulously well kept farm hedges and the beautiful sheep. It reminded us of the wonderful displays at the annual Royal Show, now defunct.

So the holiday ends and we shall be pleased to return to the ministrations of Wes and Josie. As many of you have asked, Josie has now been taken off furlough and is busy helping her customers on Zoom and the telephone and enjoying the company of her distanced colleagues. From now on, we’ll just have to look after ourselves. Oh dear! We’ll soon need another holiday!

 

Words by Sue

Pictures by Peter

Visit our Facebook Page at Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page and The Photographer is abandoning Artfinder,  ( Peter Bennett on Artfinder ) so contact him directly on Peter Bennett Photos email

The Photographer’s snapshots for this blog can be seen on     Dartmoor Diary Flickr Album or all his snapshots on  Flickr (follow link)           The serious stuff is currently only available directly from The Photographer except for a few left on his  Saatchi Art shop

Any similarity between characters in this blog and real people, products or events is entirely co-incidental

Any similarity between “The Little Town” and Chagford is entirely deliberate, Click on this link to find out more. Visit Chagford     

A peaceful Autumn emerges from the storms

By The Photographer’s Assistant

 

Josie and The Assistant were making the most of the autumn. They didn’t feel too brilliant this evening and the men had a project on. Josie had a cold and the Assistant had had treatment for her troublesome leg. They didn’t feel like making a huge supper and were indulging themselves.
Josie had a large jumper and her comforting sheepskin slippers on. The Assistant had giant furry socks and warm tartan pyjamas. The television was showing the ultimate Country file programme. It was a Mary Berry special. The section on hand made cheese was of particular interest. The cheese looked wonderfully creamy, but not too creamy. It was covered in hay, which was wonderfully picturesque. Josie, still on furlough, was looking for a cheese making course, which she could attend. It was all very inspirational!

So Cosy

Sitting by the fire and watching relaxing television programmes is a real treat at the end of a well spent summer, mainly spent gardening until we were satisfied and exhausted. Josie had been working on her art, but, above all, she had been cooking produce from the garden for many a happy and exhausting hour. Now, with distancing sorted out at the gym, she could go out to Topsham and exercise. She could meet with her old bridesmaids in their new homes and enjoy a chat. She and Wes could walk greater distances and they had found a pub with good distancing, that they could walk to. Things were looking up.

The Photographer and The Assistant had been able to attend an appointment at the surgery and go to see the dentist. They had not found PPE frightening to look at. All they could see was their old doctor, trying to help them and a dentist, who was delighted to see them again. They did not feel in the least bit intimidated. The Assistant felt safe enough to arrange a hygienist appointment, which would be using different procedures from usual to protect from Covid.

Saturday was a delight with the annual trip to have our flu jabs. We all had different timed appointments and the route was made clear for entering and exiting the surgery. Lately, living right out in the countryside, we had felt a bit isolated, but now, we remembered and saw all the people we used to love seeing and talking to. There was Jo from church, and some near neighbours, and lots of familiar faces. It was so cheering. After, we had a couple of cups of coffee in the Three Crowns, out in glorious sunshine. We were able to do some shopping before the town became too busy. Josie was driving and the Photographer got in the car carrying two delicious bottles of wine. The Assistant had two huge pieces of salmon from Andy’s old place. A day of treats!

Innovation on Dartmoor hill farm……now that’s something to note! Spring Barley being grown for silage

On one of our walks up the hill, past Mr. Davis’ fields, we saw the most wonderful crop of barley. We were invited to go in and see it. It swept around corners with a wonderful swirl of green
and we were able to feel the crop. Mr. Davis had been trying out some new farming ideas and they had really paid off. Occasionally, we meet him and his family in town. What a delightful family! The children are full of bubble and bounce and they love the farm animals. So encouraging for those of us who have been connected to farming and lived next to it for all our lives.

Meanwhile, we are all coping with the apple harvest, which has been a bumper one this year. We are all standing over pans and cooking away with mixed spice and just a little of Mick’s honey, or perhaps, a bit more and a spoonful all on it’s own, just to make sure that the latest batch is o.k.

John Painter has had his wild meadow harvested and made into round bales. What happy memories of wild wild flowers as the bales are stacked up. Happy memories of our spaniel Marcus who loved to go over Duncan Vincent’s back field here. He would walk among the drying grass having the best and most interesting sniff of the year. How we both loved that autumn walk. Meanwhile, John’s old lathe is happy settling in to the Photographer’s work shop, where it has it’s own corner. All of the Photographer’s engineering friends have had much advice to give and the machine hasn’t actually turned it’s restored wheel yet!

The newly planted trees in the garden have given us great pleasure this year. They have grown well and are looking strong. We enjoy walking around them in the evening as the sun goes down and all the birds have flown over to their roost.

Meanwhile, Wes and Josie have created an autumn to do list. The rot in the front door is to be replaced with fresh wood and Josie is freshening up the front door. When they have done this, the porch will have a new lease of life. Much to our relief, They are going to replace the old shower and Josie is ordering new tiles and has paint to match the work. This has all needed doing for some time. It will all be so cheery again. Hoorah.

2 Pieris enjoying an evening Aster…..Why do they look so lovely here and so threatening on a cabbage plant?

Butterfly’s are aplenty as they fly around the orchard and the stream burbles in the background as we sit on the bridge, which has now been replaced and regained its former beauty.

All in all, autumn has bounced in in a most charming manner, and we reflect on this, as we sit on our favourite seat in the churchyard in the little town. We can light a candle now and watch it flicker as we leave, this almost peaceful place in the little town.

We have managed to return to Blacks, which is so close by this quiet place and enjoy being spoilt by Chris and Catherine as we rest our old bones sitting next our dear friend Jim, who joins us for a cup of coffee.

Yes. Peaceful autumn has returned and with it much of the world we knew before the arrival of Coved to our shores. Let’s do our best to drive it out again.

San Francisco at 1045 in the morning under the wildfire haze

A sad and distressing footnote to the blog has been this picture, sent to us by dear Jenny in California. She is currently surrounded by smoke. Her current state just reminds us of how fortunate some of us have been. We all send you our good wishes dear Jenny. We think of you. The next candle is for you with a prayer that it will all go away.

Footnote:

3rd time lucky!! The bridge installed yet again. Let’s hope it stays this time

 

Words by Sue

Pictures by Peter

Visit our Facebook Page at Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page and The Photographer is abandoning Artfinder,  ( Peter Bennett on Artfinder ) so contact him directly on Peter Bennett Photos email

The Photographer’s snapshots for this blog can be seen on     Dartmoor Diary Flickr Album or all his snapshots on  Flickr (follow link)           The serious stuff is currently only available directly from The Photographer except for a few left on his  Saatchi Art shop

Any similarity between characters in this blog and real people, products or events is entirely co-incidental

Any similarity between “The Little Town” and Chagford is entirely deliberate, Click on this link to find out more. Visit Chagford     

Part 2: I told you you so

By The Photographer’s Assistant

The weather event has occurred. Yesterday, for the first time in many months, we decided to walk to meet Jim the Artist. Previously we had met on Zoom and in the open air. Only last week we had been able to meet in our garden, have lunch and, at last Josie got to discuss art with a fellow artist. It bucked her up no end! A walk across the field was in the shade amidst the heat. As we walked through the stream, it was woefully low. The stepping stones were high in the trickle of water. On entering the town, Josie went to see a friend, having cuddled a few precious flowers for her on her way. The Photographer and the Assistant grabbed a bun and met Jim. They went on to the churchyard, a place of quiet and welcome as they sat in the graveyard. It began to rain a little and they sheltered under a tree. They managed to sit until 3 o’clock when it began to come on to rain seriously. They found an empty room at the Three Crowns and ordered tea. It was a lovely cup of tea. The threesome chatted on about all sorts of nonsense as friends do. It was really raining hard now, but they continued chatting. The rain became very heavy. The Photographer attempted to get into the entrance way. It was hard to stand away from the rain, but he just about managed. He had the right camera with him. He was able to take this picture of the graveyard. It was now an altered place. You could have used it on a set for Wuthering Heights. The heavy rain was sheeting and it was so hard. He could see a red Wheely Bin in the middle of the road and wondered what it was doing there until it floated past. Cars were struggling in the depth of water. The Photographer continued to click away. Eventually, he just had to come back in.

Have you heard the one about a man who went into a pub and said there is this big red wheely bin floating down the road……….

From where we were sitting, we could see people queuing at the door, changing their mind and coming back in. The entrance was very wet. People were soaked and dripping. The threesome decided on another cup of tea. It was clear that they must stay here. They had to get hold of Josie who might be on the road going home. No answer on her mobile. The waiter arrived to say that the cellar was flooded. There would be no tea or coffee as the plugs were soaking. The room had become uncomfortably full and the three could not distance themselves from a woman, who had a persistent cough. The decision was made to leave. Jim left for home and the twosome decided to find Josie. The thought of poor Josie, without a coat and in a thin frock, having recently been shielded, was very frightening.

St Michael’s churchyard. This is not a Black & White, it really was this dark.

Josie was found with her friend, safe and dry, having enjoyed a lovely, relaxing afternoon sipping Prosecco in a beautiful garden. What a relief! Everyone enjoyed a nice sit down while the rain calmed as much as it was going to. Everywhere was either flooded or drowned in the rain. The pretty little town had turned from being a major tourist attraction to an ugly drowned rat. The threesome began walking. The rain was just lighter now and Wes was just too far from home to come and collect them, so they continued down MIll Hill. There were some jolly people in the Folklore Cafe as they passed, but it really was getting on a bit and there were suppers to get and lots to do at home.They were rather jolly. Jokes about the situation were made. They made way for a rescue truck to pass them. There was a stranded BMW at the side of the road. Thank goodness that they had not brought a Mini with them. Then they saw it. In the middle of the road there was a dip and a deep water barrier. The thought of getting that wet! Very fortunately there was the perfect vehicle approaching. It was a splendid 4×4, which was on its way home. The Photographer stopped it and he and Josie took the tail gate down and jumped in. The Assistant took a more dignified approach and sat inside. Thank you JP Construction.

Thank you to the local 4X4 driver from JP Construction who carried us through this lake

They came to the woods and made their soggy way along. When they reached the stepping stones to cross the stream. The stepping stones were gone and there was a heavy flow of water. Josie had sandals on so she just got wet. The Photographer managed to pull the Assistant across.

When we walked across here 3 hours ago there was set of massive stepping stones and virtually no water in the stream.

The three soaked companions made their way up the field with a cup of tea in mind. Before they had a cup of tea, they went to see if their new bridge, just built across their section of stream was alright. It had gone. The stream had risen many feet and had now subsided. The bridge, which was still intact had been carried until it met a heavy garden table, where it had wedged itself. It is very heavy, and we will need help to drag it out. It has been decided to think about its future position and anchorage over the autumn. Much thought will be put in. Meanwhile, two more bridges are missing, but there is a slate bridge, which we will be able to use.

Where’s my bridge gone?……It was there this morning!…..I spent 2 weeks on that project…….what’s happened?

Our neighbours are all in similar positions. There is damage to repair. Some of it will not be repairable. The change in the seasonal weather is here a little early this year. The Chagford Swimming Pool has 4 inches more water. This sort of thing happens on the Moor. We exchange these happenings for its beauty and remoteness.Yesterday, the geese, who come in the autumn, made an early arrival!

1/2 a tone (500kg) of steel and wood swept 25 yards (metres) downstream without a blink……..the power of water is just amazing

Words by Sue

Pictures by Peter

Visit our Facebook Page at Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page and The Photographer is abandoning Artfinder,  ( Peter Bennett on Artfinder ) so contact him directly on Peter Bennett Photos email

The Photographer’s snapshots for this blog can be seen on     Dartmoor Diary Flickr Album or all his snapshots on  Flickr (follow link)           The serious stuff is currently only available directly from The Photographer except for a few left on his  Saatchi Art shop

Any similarity between characters in this blog and real people, products or events is entirely co-incidental

Any similarity between “The Little Town” and Chagford is entirely deliberate, Click on this link to find out more. Visit Chagford     

Excitement Over The Holidays

By “The Photographer’s Assistant”

 

It was a Wednesday. The Boyfriend stood outside his front door and was immediately dripped on by the cold flow from the thatch above. He and the dog shivered together. The dog, looked very serious. She stared up at the boyfriend in a concerned manner. Shouldn’t they have taken the van? Shouldn’t they be working on the oak kitchen, which they both had in hand.

She and the boyfriend were walking now. They were going to walk through the woods and this was not as simple as it usual. A giant tree lay across their path and it was so muddy. There were streams of water everywhere. Eventually they struggled out onto the road. The dog became excited, they were going to one of her favourite houses. There might be a ball game.

The Assistant stood at the sink in her pyjamas. She had a virus, which had laid her low. She looked out of the window, wondering why it wasn’t raining yet, instead, the Boyfriend appeared around the corner. This was good, but was there something wrong at work? The Boyfriend looked cheerful enough. He and the dog came in for a cup of coffee. They all had a big chat. The boyfriend wanted to speak to the Photographer and they disappeared off together while the Assistant made a late attempt at getting dressed. By the time she had come downstairs the conversation was over and the Boyfriend had started for home before the next shower. The Photographer was looking slightly shellshocked. He wanted a cup of tea and sat down on his arm chair quite flummoxed. The Boyfriend had asked for the Daughter’s hand in marriage, and the Photographer had naturally acceded. There was a ring and the Boyfriend clearly had a plan. It took the Assistant and the Photographer all day to absorb this news. The Daughter had been cunning and a bit of an escape artist up to now. The parents were a little worried. There would be no excuse for the Daughter as she and the Boyfriend had been together for a long time, but she was very independent and they were worried for the Boyfriend.

A couple of days went past and there was no announcement. They had no idea what was going on. The couple were due to appear on Christmas Day, but they were late. The Photographer and the Assistant sat nervously over a cup of coffee, having returned from church. The Photographer managing to stifle the Assistant’s cough sufficiently for the service to go forward at its normal pace.

There was complete silence. The two were lost in a world of thought. Suddenly, the phone rang, literally off the hook. There was an announcement over the phone. The Daughter was in tears of joy. Of course, she would marry her Builder. The dog had proudly delivered the ring all on her own. She was very proud and felt very important. There were phone calls and internet contacts, and finally, the really happy couple arrived for more coffee and food. The ring was displayed from every angle and it was agreed that it was very suitable.

Twinkle twinkle little star………

 

The Assistant was out in Exeter the following week and casually passed a jeweller’s window. She was never normally interested in jewellery, but, today, she looked in the window. She had not had an official ring herself for reasons of youth and complete poverty and she wondered what it was like to look at them and chose one. She looked at the rings and almost had a seizure. She had done this alone and the Photographer had to rescue her and take her to the Boston for a large black coffee and smelling salts. She now had a full understanding of the Boyfriend’s hard work and was impressed by the ring. The Photographer sighed and wondered about that day 47 years ago when he was so young that a ring was out of the question. The Assistant, however, soon revived, and, casting a crafty eye over the Photographer’s face, wondered if it would be alright to have that new sofa now rather than later on in the year. The Photographer winced and bought them both a veggie breakfast. He had had a secret look at his bank balance. A wedding and a sofa!! That motorcycle restoration would have to wait for another year! The wedding plans meanwhile, progress.

 

Cafe Tables

Of course, over the holiday, the weather was appalling. If there were any gaps in the weather, it was strange to be able to get out. The little town’s river was at its maximum, but it was adequately supplied with run off fields and areas, which absorb water, but there was one night which proved spectacular. The following morning, the Assistant awoke to get the Photographer a cup of tea. The rain was in torrents. She was totally distracted. The outside cobblestone patio was inches deep in water and the porch was inundated. Fortunately, the rain eased up enough to be absorbed into the soak-away and land drains, but it was a frightening reminder of what was going on up North. On the same day, the Daughter rang late into the evening to tell us of the spectacular sight in the little town. She and the Boyfriend (now a.k.a The Chosen One) had attempted to walk the dog, who to it’s credit, was not keen. They had found that the water had broken through the leat in the middle of town. The water was out of control and was running in a torrent down the main street. It was travelling past the local hotel and one of the pubs and was just the most amazing sight. It didn’t flood any building, because it wasn’t lingering on its way out of town. The most extraordinary aspect of the whole display was a medieval sight around the drains, which were full and dispensing large rats out into the town. The very next morning, a local farmer brought his machinery into town and quickly sorted out the situation. If it wasn’t for the local farmers, there are some situations, which would build into a real crisis in our little town.

 

……and the wall came tumbling down

In the village’s main street, a wall collapsed, which had only just been constructed and it was sad to see it’s owner labouring for many days to put it right.

 

We hope that you will forgive a longer blog, but there was so much to tell.

WE WISH YOU GOOD HEALTH AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR.

 

STOP PRESS: The first lambs of 2016 seen at Blackaton

Spring Lamb 3

Spring lamb 4

Spring lamb 2

Spring lamb 1

Of Events Snakes and Wasps

By “The Photographer’s Assistant”

The Photographer and his small and even more demented Assistant have, together with the rest of Dartmoor had a busy time. First, tales of other people, who have had an even more eventful month than us. There have been so many happy and touching happenings its been difficult to keep up with it all.

Our neighbour had a big birthday and spent it amongst those of us in the small hamlet, who hold her dear as a member of our very small community. What touched us all was that she wanted to spend the day with us, and she spent her birthday waiting on us all with marvellous food and wine, sharing her garden and her house with us all.

Another neighbour gave up a great deal of time to an event in the little town’s church, which was quite lovely with beautiful flowers and displays.

Our neighbour opposite took mercy on the old dog and whilst The Photographer and The Assistant were at The Wiscombe Park round of the National Speed Hillclimb championship rescued him from his miserable crying, (normally he goes everywhere with us, but it was too hot). Our neighbour took him into his own home, and when we returned, quite worn out, he gave us a cup of tea.

Trying hard…………..Wiscombe 2014

 

Along the road another neighbour has spent some time now looking after and comforting her mother as her father has just died. Some people across the road have spent much of the year never complaining, but repairing their house, which was flooded on Christmas Eve.

Closer to home, in the little town, the Boyfriend has never moaned and always smiled, while he gave everything he had to help our daughter while she looked for a newer and better job. There are many tales of hardship and determination that this small community up on these hills faces with an admirable determination. No one need be alone here, unless they want to be and almost certainly no rotting corpses will be found behind closed doors. The most perverse characters are looked after, even if they don’t want to be.

From our friends, who live a distance from us, we have heard from a first time grandmother, who just loves having a grandchild. We have heard from a dear friend recovering from cancer, whose daughter is our god child, that her son, who we have known since he was a baby, has shown all that determination that he exhibited as a small toddler, and has climbed The Three Peaks in aid of a child’s cancer charity. We know that this was hard, because the Assistant, who is fond of walking, very nearly didn’t make it on a difficult route up Snowdon.

Finally, on the local events front, unusually, we are going to name a location on the Moor. This is the small, now beautifully restored medieval Gidleigh Church, which has one of the most beautiful Rood Screens that we have ever seen. Every Sunday afternoon, you can be a complete unbeliever if you like, just get up there if you are near. You can have the most delicious tea in the most wonderful surroundings. It is all very poetic as you sit among the gravestones and drink your tea. The event finishes at the end of August.

 

Our beautiful rood screen at Gidleigh

So to the great heat that those of us, who are used to the blasting winds and storms off the Moor, have been at first thrilled with and then just subsided under. Both the Photographer and his Assistant have been running around like frenetic insects just trying to keep the vegetables watered, harvested and processed. We really want to do everything ourselves for when our daughter and the Boyfriend help look after the house, it has nearly driven them mad too whilst working really hard for the pittance issued to the employed these days. Its hard to harvest tomatoes at ten pm! However, we really didn’t mean it all to happen over a couple of weeks! As the Assistant writes this, the Photographer is making broad bean hummus as fast as he can go before getting down to putting his Hillclimb photos up on his professional website!

As the heat peaked we held a BBQ for The Boyfriend’s little boy and this was the event where the nature of the Moor took over. Lately, Spring Watch would have trouble keeping up with the wild life here. Right now heat crazed black birds are trying to gain entry to the green houses to peck the tomatoes and other animals are digging big holes to gain access to water. On the day that the boy came, we were sitting in the hall, when a snake sneaked in. No one noticed it until the hissing started. It had become trapped under the front door. The little boy ran to get the Photographer while his father attempted a daring manoeuvre with a cake tin. This upset the snake further, the front door was gradually opened and the snake slithered away. On the same day, all the male members of the family were stung by wasps, who had been building an underground tunnel in the Assistant’s little garden. All in all the little chap, who comes from the city, had an eventful and exciting day.

Yes, I know it’s a bee, not a wasp, but it’s a good picture and I haven’t got a wasp!

You can come around any evening now and you will find both The Photographer and his Assistant fast asleep on the sofa pretending to watch one of Dan Cruikshank’s history programs. Dan is all alone out there, we’re not really seeing him!

Journeying Westward

By “The Photographer’s Assistant”

 

We have just turned off the M4 onto the M5 and are travelling south west through The Severn Dock area at Portlebury. We are going home to the Moor. A not infrequent miracle is taking place. The Assistant puts on her sun glasses as we travel from grim grey to a bright sky. A yellow sun and pink highlights are on display. It is warm and amazing. This is where, even the Photographer wishes he were an artist. You could be entranced by the depth and brilliance of this picture for ever. You would never see through all this depth of bright colour. It is a home coming that will never be beaten.

The Photographer adopts a cruising gear and gives a deep sigh. Home on the Moor will be wonderful. The music of Bob Seger plays loudly. It’s a kind of celebration. The Photographer had taken himself off on an assignment to the land of the Assistant’s forbears. We had been to the Welsh wilderness by the sea. Miles beyond Swansea is a flat land that has roads which stretch empty for miles, surrounded alternately by good farmland and poor farmland and edged by miles and miles of empty beaches.

This has been a difficult trip. Both the Moor and Pembrokeshire share remoteness and struggle in equal measure. The geography of both areas is challenging and both are heavily dependant on tourism to keep going. Gradually through economic stress both fight for survival in a world dominated by big city life, but some of us do better than others.

We find that even in the city of St.David’s, the local secondary school is threatened with closure and all the social and cultural loss that this entails. We are shocked by the city’s failure to keep up with our own small town. Here, on the Moor, trade flows throughout the year and as a consequence, we attract a year round tourist trade. Even at the heart of the Moor, The Two Bridges Hotel  attracts a raft of visitors throughout the year, and wins prestigious awards over and above the big city competitors.

In St David’s, you will find a great many shops and tea shops are shut, waiting for Easter. Even the local woollen mill is shut at weekends. The Photographer and Assistant take every bit of food with them to provide quality eating whilst they are away. We admire the restaurant (too expensive for us , but renowned),which dares to stay open. The National Park Centre has an excellent cafe, but generally, there is a grim air of depression about the place. Take your camping stove with you for early closing day!

 

Newgale Beach. Stripped bare of the deep firm golden sand for which it was famous

 

The photographer loads his cameras into the car, and we slip down to some beaches, where to add to the economic woes, things are not good. Newgale, a significantly beautiful and long area has been stripped of its sand, and is difficult to get onto, all the decking entrances having been completely destroyed. Trees buried under the sea for 10,000 years are now exposed for all to see, dead birds dried out bodies lie strewn along the large pebble sea defences. The pub has sand bags adorning its entrances. It’s furniture has been taken upstairs and it has that steamy shut appearance that goes with flooding. A perky cafe remains open, but the weather is awful and so typical of the area, it has a garden machinery dealer next door! This is next to one of the best beaches in Britain.

Further down the road, in the city, you can pay £4 to park on a deserted car park! You are not going to, not in this weather, not in the winter!
The next most popular beach in the city, Caerfai, has lost part of its cliff face and the access way is closed. Efforts are being made to reconstruct, but there is no one in sight today. This is a very important beach with a very large camp site attached, attracting people from all over Britain in season.

The most devastating sight which we saw was at Abereidy, where there is a loud and raucous row going on over the Authorities decision to let part of this beach go back to the sea. This beach means a great deal to many local people and we meet a couple who have travelled some way to scatter the ashes of their dog here. The sea is rough and dominating. You can sit and watch the sea in rough weather in your car forever, but don’t try to get out, unless you want to lose the door. Pathetically and sadly, people have been down to the old sea wall and laid cairns in mourning for this loss along its shelves. ( The remainder of the wall has been taken down due to Health and Safety regulations and the unprotected part of the beach with its old slate quarry ruins is disappearing rapidly ). The next time we come, we will need to walk the two miles to it along the coastal path, but if you can’t walk, you’ll never see it or The Blue Lagoon, where the sport of Coasteering first started, again.

Cairns of remembrance on the remains of the sea wall at Abereidy. Built in 1974 from the remains of a railway line closed by Dr Beeching and destroyed by the sea in 2014

 

 

10,000 year old trees on the slate beach at Abereidy exposed by the great storms of 2014

 

The whole of this wonderful and beautiful area was practically empty of anyone, mainly because it was difficult to stay there in what was also some beautiful spring weather. The facilities just weren’t up to it. No wonder that the place is stuffed with visitors, thereby taking away its charm, for the small period of the year that you can visit.

When we, on the Moor, have the odd moan, about having visitors with large cars and different ways, in the midst of early spring, and when we feel that there is just too much choice in local coffee shops and pubs, give a thought to wilderness lands, where you can only maintain your life style by travelling two hours to the nearest real city to do some proper shopping. We came back to the news that the Dawlish Railway will reopen even before Easter, now that’s the stuff!

 

Footnote The photographer took some wonderful pictures. My most favourite is his portrait of John Knapp Fisher, who kept his gallery open despite his advancing age throughout our stay.

 

 

John Knapp-Fisher at 83. Still the best painter in Wales, and his studio alone is worth the journey to St Davids

 

When the Weather Comes to Call

By “The Photographer’s Assistant”

It is the autumn of 1987 and the Photographer is celebrating a hard year of restoration work on a run down modernist house under the South Downs. He has brought his mother to live here together with his children. He wants his family to enjoy real rural life. The children can run and play where they couldn’t before. The whole family can enjoy a whiff of freedom.

The “run down modern house” before the oak tree landed on it!

For once the Photographer has not had to go abroad and he is expecting a double glazing salesman to arrive at any minute. He is however, uneasy, the whole atmosphere is laden with the sort of heat he usually only experienced abroad, and the sky is a strange orange colour.

The salesman arrives. The children put themselves to bed, while the Photographer, his wife and his mother discuss the double glazing with the salesman. During the evening a strong wind arises gradually until, when darkness has descended, even the Photographer’s mother, who is very deaf, can hear the noise. Fearing that all is not well outside, the salesman has to leave amidst fears that the weather has taken a turn for the worst.

Outside, the trees are blowing uncontrollably, like small twigs in the wind. The one great oak is unsteady and has begun to look as if it is under siege. It is puzzling that the wind continually increases. Thinking that the wind can only improve, the family retire to bed.

Everyone drops off to sleep. A small child wakes the parents up.They are frightened. The wind is the loudest that anyone has ever heard.  The noise is beyond description. The Photographer investigates with a great torch and finds that all is not well outside. He is worried. The house is full of plate glass windows. He can see that these are under threat. This is an extraordinary and unbelievable situation. His mother is strolling in a muddled way about the hall and he ushers her back to bed. He makes sure that she has taken her hearing aids out and tells her to stay in her room, which is at the back of the house. All the time, the wind is increasing and the family can hardly hear one another.

Outside, all the garden furniture and loose items, such as watering cans, are blowing about high in the air. The Assistant stays with the children while the Photographer piles the furniture at the back of the house. He is frightened that it will break the windows. The children huddle together in a corridor without glass. They normally sleep upstairs under the great oak tree next to the biggest window in the house, which now flexes in its frame. They are taken down to their parents bedroom, where there are the fewest and smallest windows in the house. During the night, a bump on the roof directly overhead of the bedroom heralds the falling of a huge branch. There is a deep breath, but the branch stays  steady. Everyone tries to pretend that all will be well. We all want daylight to come.

In the morning, there is no electricity or phone. The landscape has changed beyond recognition. We have lost countless trees in the garden. Our neighbours have damaged roofs and houses. The houses literally have bits hanging off them. Television aerials dangle dangerously above the road and there are countless pieces of wood and debris lying about. The roads are covered in large fallen trees. There is no way out or in.

Just as the Photographer was regretting his lack of a chainsaw, some of the farmers from the hills appeared in the lane. There were a large number of them and these were the fathers of our children’s friends. Wordlessly, they climbed onto our roof and, all as one, pushed the large branch off. They would bring chain saws down to the village, to clear ways and make things safe.

Two days later, as the freezer, full of food for the winter, began to fail, the Photographer’s motor cycling friend appeared hauling a generator, which was being delivered on rotation to those who needed it. There were countless acts of kindness amidst the confusion.

Bob and Graham, who could ask for better friends, shared a generator with us all to keep the basics going for over a week in 1987.

During the days to come the Photographer worked tirelessly on the mess outside and the children went back to school. No one talked about the storm.

Linemen from Western Power work in all conditions to restore power to our remote hamlet

What has this got to do with Dartmoor? It is one of the reasons that  we live here. With no exaggeration, the event changed our lives for ever. The Photographer decided that when he bought his next home, it would be safe, but it was many years before he could achieve it. He had always loved Dartmoor and he loved the little town for its fortress like and secure appearance.When he managed, at last,to come here,he bought a house with thick walls and small windows. Above all, there are no great trees overhanging the house and because he had had one experience with what he fervently believed to be climate change, he made sure that it was almost impossible for a river to invade his house. He was sure that the rivers would rise and refused to buy one house that was later flooded.

What about the effect on the children. They never felt easy with the wind again and learned that nature was  a great force mostly beyond our control. The eldest child took two degrees based on environmental studies and has worked in the environment for many years now. The youngest grew up to work for a private company specialising in the care of the environment. They both live in the West Country, one in a house with thick walls in the little town, and the other near the River Severn and its flood defences. They both feel for the children who, like them, have found out recently what the weather can do when it comes to call.

Looking at the Sky

By the Photographer’s Assistant

Lying in bed in the early morning with a thundering noise in the distance. The river in the lower valley is roaring and the stream in our garden is joining in. It is a rare night now when we can have a window open without the threat of it being damaged or stuff blowing around the room. Somehow, the sound is soothing, it roars on like some ancient lullaby.

There are no curtains at the window and the sky is quite simply beautiful. There is no real need to cover these windows, one of the joys of living on the Moor is the ever changing sky. At the moment despite its terrors it is black against a grey sky. Stars appear when the temperature drops. It is an incredible real work of nature’s art; that what can be so damaging can be utterly fascinating.

Fence Line

This river shouldn’t be here!

The Photographer has temporarily removed the filter gate from the weir on the stream. He and his neighbour cannot keep up with the amount of debris that has been passing through and the vegetable garden has been flooded. The Photographer and his Assistant and family are very dependent on the plot and it must not be washed away.

After tremendous storms including terrorising thunder claps and “under the duvet”  type lightening, we manage to get the Dog convinced that he really would like to go for a long walk. We meet only those who must walk or jog. There is no one out there except those who think they can get away without the exercise. We have a couple of  interesting conversations. The oldest member of our hamlet community has been taken out for a car ride and is deeply impressed by the depth of water everywhere. She has never seen the water so deep.

We meet a worker out with his tiny van, crammed with machinery, who will make a little hard won money by travelling to a village out along the main road. Trees have fallen over and he is needed to help move them.

Ready for anything

The Boyfriend has been to work and returns up a side lane , which leads from the main road. The side lane is actually a major thoroughfare, and he has to stop abruptly when he sees an unexpected flood in front of him. He is astonished by the depth of water and beats a hasty retreat, but not before he has seen a taxi abandoned in the middle of the water, the poor owner has given up and the taxi looks strange just sitting in all that water. Some days later the taxi is gone and some locals really want to get through. The Photographer knows the water is now passable, he pilots a lady, who is trying to get to work, through. During the holidays, many intrepid friends and relatives have visited the little valley and most have been piloted around the water in a similar way. We have all been impressed by their keenness to visit. Never let it be said that our town dwelling friends have been reluctant to brave the elements.

Just when we thought it might all be over, we are woken by a gigantic flash of lightning and an enormous bang. The Photographer arises from the bed and cautiously looks out of the window. It was the sort of bang you would expect to have done some damage, but we have been lucky. We even still have a phone line and the electric. The kettle is put on and there is another enormous rumble. The Daughter, who lives in the little town below is terrified. When she lived in the Midlands she was subject to quite a large earthquake, which partially damaged her house and bangs now terrify her. The chimney to her rented home, has begun to leak and she is now frightened that there will be real damage to her small and much loved home. She remains on the phone as she climbs downstairs, but there is nothing but a full container of water by the fire, which has leaked down the chimney We are all relieved and brew tea and coffee in our respective homes.

Flood plain

It goes without saying that living on the nearby Somerset Levels is much more terrifying and we have all escaped fairly lightly on the area of the Moor in which we live, but this is simply how it was for us. Now, we just feel fortunate and give the elements even more respect.