In the woods

It's been raining on and off for days and when it stopped briefly Sylvia and I headed for the sylvan setting of Blackbury Camp to check out the the Bluebells.

Barely a Bluebell

The Bluebells were fading fast. It was also cold and everything was exceptionally soggy. My hands were frozen when I'd finished taking pictures. The leaves on the beech trees have a way to go and the trees didn't look their beautiful selves.

Blackbury Camp

I'm no good at visualising or describing Iron Age forts, but this is the Bluebell and Beech tree setting of today's visit. Back then (4th century BC) the hillfort 'stood on an open treeless ridge'. Nowadays it's difficult to imagine as a fort as the ones I'm more familiar with tend to be buildings looking towards the sea. 

Without the Bluebells in full bloom and the sun shining through the beech leaves the atmosphere was gloomy, muddy and leafmouldy - and for those with vivid imaginations, somewhat troll-like.

Carbuncular troll mushroom

I kept my distance when I took this picture. Are those lips? Could that be a nose?

Faces upon faces

Surely that has to be a nose? Could that other cluster be a mouth?

This could be where the food goes - or where a clan of Woodeckers live

The road

I abandoned the soggy camp and took to the road to see what I could find - and to add a few paces to the daily tally.  Although it was dank and dark there were loads of birds singing. 

 Gate and stile

I discovered a walk or two for sunnier days.

Where the mushrooms live

The atmosphere was old and soggy and full of possibilities.

Back to Blackbury Camp

I didn't want to leave you feeling frightened so have brought you out into the open.

Friendly Devon countryside

With sheep just beyond the fence.

Pre-dusk potter

The village looks very different when there are no people about - and I can take pictures of wherever I want.

Veg with a view

Settling down for the night.

Spot the artichokes

Resting

Neat writing

'tis proper ice cream made in Devon'

Roosting beach (definitely not roasting)

All ready for tomorrow.

A sleep cemetery - apart from the badgers

Too chilly to be out

Flat calm

Calm is so unusual in my recent weather history that it gets today's title. Even the boat being hauled up the beach was 'Serene'. I say was, because the pictures were taken yesterday. 

Today the car park visible from my blogging spot is mostly empty of visitors. I've turned the heating up and the cemetery trees are waving in the wind.

Hauling Serene up the steep bank

By tractor and winch. 

Flat calm

Can you spot the face?

 Ducky's and deckchairs

The atmosphere was sedate and not at all like mid-summer. Get a move on weather - it's 'flaming June' in a few days time!

Deckchairs fed up with waiting

Or deckchairs in disarray. These look half-dressed and on the point of giving up. There is the slightest puff of wind which is making their tummies billow.

.

Desperate to put their hats on

Panorama

Of the east side of the beach. The Jubilee Gardens which are on the top left of the picture, is where the Queen's birthday celebrations will be held in June.

Panorama

Of the west side of the beach looking towards Beer Head, which for some reason I prefer. Probably due to the chips and tea making a good first impression. 

Beside the sea again

I'm still in Spanish adventure mode but am loving being back home. I'm static but feel that I'm still moving. I have moved a lot today - between plant pots - but the Pacer app seems to think that I've been sedentary. I've started wearing the phone and the house keys, just in case I lock myself out. Thankfully the keys don't tell me anything.

So much was done for us whilst we were adventuring. The general, everyday cleaning and clearing up; sorting the re-cycling; putting out the bins (not binoculars); mucking out, and all that jazz. And here I am having to re-remember all this stuff whilst feeling that I'm still on the move. I'm also hearing birds in the background.

I popped out later today, after the Spanish cold kicked in and snapped away at the beach. It was too chilly to sit around and the three cafes were closed. It's 'flaming June' in a couple of weeks time.

Quiet and chilly May beach

Fishermen's cottages and allotments 

Beside the sea

A closer look

Lively lady

I like to think that we have something in common. As I've been mainly planting plants in a few pots today, I suppose 3.2 kilometres (4948 paces) isn't all that bad. 

Nearly there

Peek at Armorique

What is it about ferries? You can't wait to get on and then you can't wait to get off. Sylvia's detour was minimal compared to Rosie and John's (friends from Spanish lessons) who travelled an additional 1 000 miles as a result of the ferry cancellation. 

Goodbye misty Roscoff

Not sorry to leave Roscoff but missing Spain and all the lovely people who were so kind and welcoming.

Land ahoy!

First sighting of Rame Head - and it's not raining. 

Hello Plymouth

Plymouth Breakwater

I've never taken much notice of it before, but everything related to our final destination suddenly seems to attract my attention. 

Blue sky and flat calm

Many Dolphins were leaping about during the Channel crossing. Four did a synchronised leap close to where I was sitting at the very front (bow apparently) of the boat. It was the sort of spectacle that you generally have to pay a lot of money to see (in my experience). A Gannet also flew across in front of the window. It was like live tv. Unfortunately it can't be added to our Spanish count of 165 bird species. Never mind.

Plymouth Millbay Docks

And that's that.

Bonjour

Final (and only one like this) mystic sky

After a day of rain, I was shocked to take a peek out of our round window and catch an eyeful of this startling sky. 

That was probably the last restful thing I did, as less than twenty four hours later, Sylvia and her occupants have travelled 500 miles to Rennes in France. We're obviously exceptionally relieved to have survived. There were gazillions of trucks on the motorways and these were no problem. It was the few naughty niggling weaving cutting-up little French cars (always little ones) which were an absolute nightmare and a danger to life (many lives). Phew - got that off my chest (which I'm lucky to have intact).

Sylvia surging onwards

Past lines and lines of synchronised trucks. There was none of the 'let's hold the cars up overtaking' that you get going up hills on the A38 in Devon. 

Essence of the tedium of the day

Spooks at work

This can only be a prickly spook

The one to the left looks like a prickly pig spook.

Scary road into woodpecker country

This bare landscape used to be forest.

There were some steep drops and I don't like heights. This section of road was three miles long and there were no passing places.

When we arrived at the nerve-wracking end of the road the rain started. It saved me from a precipitous walk to a rock formation cave. Phew.

Troll habitat - spot the noses

Saw Pico Dorsiblanco (White-backed Woodpecker) near here in the pouring rain.

Impressive mushrooms

Tree hugging troll

Off on an unplanned navigational adventure tomorrow, thanks to a Brittany Ferries cancellation. France - here I come. Bonjour. Avez vous une chambre pour deux personnes pour une nuit? Cripes, I haven't done my homework.