Camping in Devon

11:00.18 - Saturday 23rd August 2008   (Link to This Entry)

Taking a break out of my usual routine of tootling up to Scotland for a week of unpredictable weather, questionable cooking and general laziness, we decided instead to head South almost as far as we could get without going over a cliff. The first place to spring to mind was Devon, and so it was that we found ourselves at the King's Down Tail Caravan and Camping Park late on Saturday afternoon.

From the outset, the weather was not promising. I say we arrived late afternoon but it was really sometime around evening when we finally got there - my own fault for setting off on a Saturday morning with thousands of other holidaymakers, all of whom apparently had the same idea that 'South = Warm' and headed off the same way. To describe the traffic as bad would be a missed opportunity to use the word 'atrocious'. Ever the skinflint, I could have reused the same word for the weather and the state of the camp site, which had hosted a wedding reception in the back field and hence was full of churned mud.

But hey, we've been to Scotland plenty of times and it always rains there, so after throwing the tent up in record time - during a downpour I might add - we moved in to our temporary home and after a hasty tea of sausages, beans and eggs we settled down for a good night's sleep, ready to be up and away early the next day.

Sadly, the rain continued on Sunday morning but we were lucky to escape the confines of Base Camp long enough to attend a fair at the Donkey Sanctuary down the road. We entered the dog into a show in the 'Most Handsome Dog', 'Waggiest Tail' and 'Best Rescue Dog' categories, all of which he failed miserably, and had a nice afternoon out looking at Donkeys and watching them do general Donkey things. The ladies raided the gift shop while I took a few photos and all was good. At least until it rained again, but we were back in the car by then.

Monday was still wet but bearable and we visited nearby Exmouth for a walk along the front, as well as a walk along the Exmouth to Lympstone cycleway. Dog impressed a crowd of onlookers with his considerable swimming prowess - quite amazing considering he won't even get in the bath without a lot of shouting. The rains eventually returned and we retired to the tent, damp but in good spirits.

Tuesday was overcast again and we headed off to Torquay for a walk around the marina. We photographed plenty of boats and seagulls, ate sandwiches and just generally strolled around like a bunch of tourists. I needed to get online to keep an eye on things but both of the web cafes we actually found were closed. Dog was not allowed to show off in Torquay, but after visiting the excellent Bygones Victorian Museum we continued on to Babbacombe Beach where he was able to romp in the impossibly clean water to his heart's content.

Wednesday saw us in Sidmouth where I found a small computer repair shop which also provided Internet Access. 50p later and I was satisfied things had not collapsed in my absense, so we took a look around the main town cantre. Sidmouth is a great little town, and once my Lottery numbers come up I'd genuinely consider moving there. There were no CCTV cameras, none of the infestations of roadsigns that plague our area and the only time we heard a siren was when an ambulance went hurtling by.

After the town we visited the beach where Dog had a good run, rolled in some partially-eaten fish and chased the seagulls while we posed for photos - not without some trepidation - in the tiny caves at the base of the crumbling cliffs.

Thursday dawned clear and dry, and we wasted no time in piling into the car and driving off before it changed its mind. Our initial destination was Canonteign Falls where we climbed the hillside around the 220ft waterfall, right to the top. The view was well worth the climb and we probably took just over an hour altogether. Back at Base Camp, I misjudged the level of mud and almost got the car stuck. Whoops.

After a brief lunch we headed off for Beer where we browsed the shops and walked along the pebbly beach. Like any good tourist, I also took the time to pose alongside the town's excellent road sign. I may even have bared my impressive belly at some point. Finally we visited Lyme Regis for an hour or so, a seaside town full of narrow, twisty back streets, semi-hidden restaurants and art galleries. Mum tormented a young seagull by stealing it's toy doll (seriously) and we strolled along the seafront for a last look at the South before heading back to the campsite for our last night.

The good weather on Friday only served to angry up the blood as we crawled through three motorways full of bloody tailbacks. The M5, M42 and even the M1 all suffered from 'too many cars', even on a Friday, and it took almost as long to get home as it did to get there. We finally made it home, unpacked the car and put up our feet. I am tempted to say 'Never Again' with regards to Devon, but it seems we simply picked the wrong week for weather and the wrong time to travel. Maybe next year.