Date: December 2012
Position: 50°34′N 4°0′W
Conditions: Grey and raining, grey and not raining
Escape from London
In London, the five days between bank holidays over Christmas can be a bit grim; a) weather wise b) a general lack of things to do. Not much tourism stuff tends to happen. This gives one time to dream up destinations – for less than 40 quid on a train. A tour of the south-west corner held considerable appeal. Devon and Cornwall were meant to be. I thought I was ace with Uk public transport now but found myself in the twilight zone of travel in the Southwest.
It is a lovely ride from London through the Salisbury Planes. Everything looks so manicured – neat hedgerows, naked trees, stone buildings with thatched roofs and rolling hills. Very pastoral! Little villages flash by, railway stations looking like they come from Thomas the tank engine. I made it as far as Exeter and found a cheap B&B next to the train station, dropped my stuff and set off to explore.
Exeter
There is something to be said for not knowing much about where you are going. It is usually a pleasant surprise. Surprise number one was crossing the River Exe into town to find the Medieval Exter Bridge. Built circa 1200 BC, its remains are high and dry in a park now as the River Exe has moved further west. I thought it was Roman. It turns out it wasn’t! A quick walk up Stepcote Hill, a cobbled street which is the oldest in the city and used before Roman times to access the River Exe, a few twists and turns and I found myself on High Street.
High Street
I knew there would be a cathedral nearby – after all this is England – but it wasn’t immediately apparent. Of course, I didn’t have a map. Feeling a little bit dispirited and a lot of hungry, I availed myself of some traditional local fare from a lovely Turkish kebab shop and wandered into an arcade.
Looking longingly through the windows at sparkly things that broke backpackers do not need, I headed towards the glimpse of green I could see what looked like a charming courtyard. As it turned out, it was the Cathedrals close. It is gorgeous. The cathedral had scaffolding around it, forcing me to take some very artistic (read crappy) shots from different angles, but you get the general drift of what it is like. I hung around until after dark, and it just got prettier. Unfortunately, my photos did not!
Crossing the Exe
Heading back, I ambled over the Cricklepit Bridge, got distracted by swans and ended up following Quayside and past the olde Customs House. Cue more underexposed photos of swans and buildings! I stopped by a service station and grabbed a map. It would have been handy two hours ago. Hindsight is a great thing.
Rocking back to the hotel, I settled in for some last minute planning. I wanted to explore the other side of the close, that I didn’t get to do today. The next day was Dartmoor National Park – I knew there was a big prison there, but not much else. I should have known better! That was the last I would see of Exter for the next two days.
Dartmoor
It was bright and early that I set off to pick up my wheels for the next few days.
As a general rule, roads in the UK are small; ergo they lend themselves to small vehicles. A broke backpacker has limited resources, so a small car kills two birds with one stone. A wee red Fiat 500 won the day. I decided to swallow my pride and rent a GPS. Whilst not my favourite piece of technology in the world (who likes maps that yell at them every opportunity possible) they do have some advantages. It was to my relief I found this one didn’t screech recalculating every five seconds when I ignored its instructions. It just shut up and quietly said take the next left turn. I thought this one might last the distance – famous last words.
So with Dartmoor National Park firmly in my sights, ham and cheese sandwich packed in case of emergency starvation, I hit the road. As we all know, rental cars are the best in the world. They are the strongest, toughest, fastest cars that can go anywhere. Thank god the Fiat had no idea what it was in for – and to be fair, neither did I! Dartmoor is crisscrossed with roads and villages. With a history of human settlement, agriculture and mining, of thousands of years, I was surprised to find such a sense of wilderness and isolation.
GPS
Previous experience has taught me to be wary of the GPS. It is an excellent way of getting you from A to B – via new routes. At least when you look at a map, you have no excuse for not expecting the one lane dirt road that you find your self on. Especially, when said road looks like some unsuspecting farmers driveway – leading to their cowshed. As I was to find out, this is what the roads in Dartmoor are like. The great thing about Flea was it could fit through any gap, and if I got stuck, I could probably push her out by myself. It was touch and go a couple of times. And that’s what makes road trips so enjoyable.
The first destination I had set was Dartmeet – which is where the East and West Dart Rivers meet – funnily enough. I found my only patch of sunshine looking down on the Clapper Bridges. These are stone bridges over 7000 years old. The people who made them are long gone, but the bridges remain, and you can still cross rivers on them in different parts of the park.
Dartmoor Prison
Dartmoor Prison is a sight. Approached from the south, it appears across the fields like a massive, imposing granite outcrop. It was tipping down with rain, which just made it that much more grim and foreboding. Not that I have any intention of ever going to prison, but seeing that, only reinforces why prison would not be a great place to spend time. Probably because of the weather, I thought the whole of Princetown around the prison looked downright depressing. I was mildly disappointed not to see prisoner walking the streets. They should pay students to walk around there in boiler suits with ankle chains to improve the ambience!
King Arthur
Sitting on the side of the road in the rain eating my cheese sandwich with only the Dartmoor ponies for company, I thought if a dragon were to fly by followed by twelve knights on horseback, I would be okay with that. Nor would I have had a problem if Heathcliff and Cathy appeared – the wrong moor, but a moor no less!
At this point, as I was starting to trip out on King Arthur legends, Bronte and now prison chain gangs, I thought it might be time to start working my way out of the park and find more ruins. Off I headed to Okehampton. Now a couple of times already the issue of being between the two main public holidays of the year had reared its head, Okehampton was no different. The ruin was closed – but the gate was easily stepped over to go and have a nosey around. Not that I advocate that kind of behaviour. At all. Ever.
I was starting to run out of daylight at this point. After a very brief consultation with the GPS, I had a decision to make. Back to Exeter or on to Cornwall????
Cornwall it was, but that is another tale! Cornwall in a Day
