This really was the end.

I woke well rested on the 21st to a lovely Devonian July morning. I skipped breakfast as I did in those days, said goodbye to the lovely landlady and took off into town. I had been sad to leave Lundy but had delayed the “end of trip downer” by my very pleasant day in Ilfracombe and had even planned a lateish train to eke another few hours out of it. These days, I would probably just have kept on moving but I didn’t travel like that then (well, only occasionally). Continue reading “This really was the end.”

I finally had to leave.

I awoke on the morning of the 20th July which promised to be another lovely day and so it proved. I was a little sad as this was my last day although the positive was that the boat does not leave until the afternoon so I had a few more hours before I had to go. Continue reading “I finally had to leave.”

I finally got there.

Day five of my trip dawned in Ilfracombe and was sunny yet again which was becoming somewhat of a habit and one I could easily get used to. I had set my alarm for once though I was up long before its rather annoying electronic insistence for today I had things to do, things I really could not afford to be late for. Much as I had enjoyed my weekend with dear friends in and around Torquay and pleasant as my brief stay in Ilfracombe had been, this was the big one as it was the day I was going to Lundy Island which was the main purpose of the trip. As I shall explain, there was one boat and one only to be caught and if I missed that then all was lost. As always I skipped breakfast and had told the lovely landlady the previous evening so she wasn’t cooking unnecessarily. I do hate wasting food. Thanking her husband for their fine hospitality I stepped out to face what I knew was going to be another good day, I could just feel it. Continue reading “I finally got there.”

A trip across the county.

I have so far written less than double digits of posts on my brand new website here and have probably made a liar of myself on about half of that small number.

My problem is that I promise faithfully to be brief and I do start off with the best intentions but the road to Hell is paved with them as we were told when children. Inevitably, I end up getting side-tracked and writing a tome that would not disgrace Tolstoy on amphetamine. When writing historical posts I usually begin by looking at my images for that day as an aide-memoire and that process for this day, 15/07/2013 reveals a day of uneventful travelling from South to North Devon which should produce a novella as opposed to the sagas I have been churning out previously. Continue reading “A trip across the county.”