22nd June 2005 – Shrewsbury

In the morning, I found the car in the same place that we left it yesterday – a good sign, I feel. After getting up, I decided that a stint of blogging was in order – truth be told, I haven’t been doing it everyday as I should which would probably have saved me more time (especially as Wimbledon was on television) – however, it wouldn’t have made too much of a difference to you readers as I don’t have daily internet access.

At around about 3pm, I finally finished and we headed off into Shrewsbury town. We did a bit of shopping first: Nav needed a new wallet and also bought a baseball cap, essentially to add to his Chav-rating (see photo); a Thermos(tm) flask (at £2 for 1 litre, it was a bargain to be had) and a cheap webcam (which we didn’t find).

Although trying to boost his Chav-rating, we reckon the beard counteracts the effects of the newly purchased Nike apparel and wallet

Mainly the time in Shrewsbury town was spent wandering and looking. Many Tudor style houses were about (those with wooden slats placed diagonally on the front of the house, I think that’s Tudor). Shrewsbury town seemed quite odd – it looks big on the map but in fact is quite small with only a couple of streets connected together. Furthermore, one street seems to have the old Tudor style houses and the other new style buildings. There were a couple of shopping centres as well (one of them names Darwin Shopping Centre – maybe if we come back in a generation’s time, we’ll find that the crap shops have gone leaving only the best…)

We found the local castle-cum-museum. The place was open for its last 20mins of the day, so we had a quick look around. The lower floor that they advised us to view was all to do with the local infantry and the places that they battled in. There was a lot of memorabilia and such like things you’d find in a museum, dating back from before WWI to the 1950s. Also within the castle walls was an official civil registry so you could get yourself married in a castle, if you so wish.

A nice big stone building ‘To Let’, just outside the castle walls

We also found the Darwin statue which placed outside the local library. There wasn’t much else to it, really.

Darwin having a rest from all his evolutionary thinking, probably…

Finally, before we left Shrewsbury, we passed the town’s prison – still in active use – which, according to Nav, is a ‘low-security’ prison. That’s probably because the inmates have killed most of the security guards and wardens. It wasn’t exactly hard to find either, as I didn’t realise that when Nav said the prison was close to the house we were staying in, that it was in fact on the other side of the road. I was wondering what all that shouting was about.

The local joint, not 10metres from the house – I weren’t scared, I’m well ‘ard me

We left Shrewsbury around about 7pm – quite late, although we didn’t really set much of a time today. I figured that we were comfortable for time in getting to the Scottish border by Sunday. And this brings us up to time, as I’m sitting on the tent porch in a camp 3-4 miles south-east of Chester. We had parked up and about to put the tent up when the farm owner’s dog came out and ran around playfully. She then got one of her toys (the classic squeaky ball) with which we played with. Owning a dog seemed like it would be worthwhile, so long as you get the nice playful ones.

Aaah!!! Isn’t she lovely… [not to be sung]

Just before she ran into me


-- steven

20th June 2005 – Bristol and Gloucester

I had heard that Bristol city centre would be a nightmare to navigate, so instead we decided to find a place to park up and do some walking. This turned out to be a much better way (although parking in an NCP was a bit costly) and spent a good amount of time looking about Bristol. There were two places on the agenda: the Clifton Bridge, and the camera obscurer observatory – both, we found, to be located next to each other.

Strolling through the city, I found it to be a really nice place. Large expanses of parks and greens dotted around with large terrace houses around the outskirts. The city centre was extremely busy at lunchtime, both with cars and pedestrians. I nearly got run over by a motorcyclist as he attempted to slow down but went through a red light. The university is split into numerous separate buildings dotted around the city, but within 5-10mins walking distances. It felt like the nice parts of a miniaturised London. We did find another second-hand bookshop which I’m sure Nav will talk about soon.

A 2nd-hand book shop located in a small market area, found whilst wandering around lost

We made it to our destination and went into the observatory first. It is a building set on a hill, within which is a contraption that uses light, mirrors and magic to present the viewer with a magnified image of the surroundings. You can rotate the view 360-degrees and see enlarged images of the activities going on outside of the building. Clifton Bridge and part of Bristol town were clearly viewable, but other than that there wasn’t much else. Still, it was pretty amazing, as it was like using a telescope but with a much bigger (and consequently easier) viewing area.

Clifton Bridge through the camera obscurer - the concaved surface acts as a screen for the image being taken in by the mirrors above

We also walked across Clifton Bridge (designed and partly built by I.K. Brunel) although underneath was a sorry looking river – it was more like a river of mud and the banks looked the same too. I don’t know whether they can still use it to transport things in and out of Bristol, maybe it was low tide? But there wasn’t any activity.

Clifton Bridge

Finally, we headed to Gloucester to visit the cathedral (it’s all Morton seemed to do in his travel book). We looked around but not much else. If I remember correctly, there was some singing practice going on – that gave a pretty amazing feel to the place too. The way the sounds resonant through the building without distortion – I was thinking whether back in the days during the building if they understood about acoustics, because the sounds produces were pleasant to the ears.

Gloucester Cathedral, the view from the garden within

We made our way out of Gloucester to Tesco to pick up food for the evening. In doing so, Nav bought a bunch of grapes and found a unique grape shaped as a flower head. It’s currently sitting on the dashboard, next to my Chesil Beach pebble. Have a look:

How odd – some sort of freakily designed grape by Tesco

Whilst we were driving to our camp site (near the River Wye, south-east of Hereford), Nav had the idea of putting a webcam on the car roof to video the travelling – this seemed like a fun idea, so hopefully we might be able to get this sorted at some point. We were supposed to drive over the Wye Bridge found in Ross-on-Wye, but unfortunately took the wrong turning within the town and headed away. We couldn’t be bothered to turn back, so headed onwards to the campsite. Seems like we’re beginning to loosen the shackles of Morton’s destinations now – always a good thing.

On a final note, I found that the seagulls in Bristol crowed in a manner that sounded like they were laughing – it was extremely disturbing. It was even worse when there was more than one seagull.



-- steven

21st June 2005 – Hereford, Worcester and Ludlow

It was to be the longest day of the year today, meaning that the day-time would get shorter by about six minutes day by day – not that it really matters too much. We left the campsite and headed north-west towards Hereford. Now this was a nice town indeed, with what seemed like a couple of main streets with small shops leading towards the local church (or civic centre, I forget). We walked around in a circle once before we managed to find the cathedral (thanks to the lady in the corner shop for directions). Another cathedral, another photograph – I don’t think that there was anything outstanding to tell:

Inside Hereford Cathedral, people are stealing benches…

We also managed to find some unsecure wireless which gave us internet access. At this point, we found that someone neither of us knew was reading our blog!! Wow, it felt good to be recognised. She (name was Jane) shared the same view on trailer park holiday campsites (regarding the Camp from Hell, dated 14th June 2005) and wished us good luck, now wasn’t that sweet. Nav reckons she is blonde (“name’s Jane, so that blonde right?”), whilst I think brunette.

Next cathedral stop was that of Worcester and on the way there came the thunderous noise of a low flying aircraft and in the distance a Chinook – I remembered my sister telling me that near to Hereford was the SAS (or some military division) training camp.

Once we arrive and parked up, we came across something quite odd. As we headed towards town, we found ourselves going up a dead-end. We were about to turn around when I spotted a door at the end of a corridor that was letting light through between the door and its frame. And it was as if we were like in a cartoon, for when we reached and opened the door, we found ourselves at the beginning of a shopping parade! They had built a door at the end of the tunnel/corridor for no reason at all. Turning around and looking at where we just exited, it didn’t seem out of place at all as the building looked like the front of a set of terraced houses.

Anyway, we decided to look quickly around the cathedral and then head off to look around town. In fact, we also wanted to see the Mappi Mundi (sp?) which is a 13th century map of the world. Unfortunately, what really was made for people to see, Worcester Cathedral saw fit to make it into another tourist attraction. Plus no photography was allowed. However, this disappointment was made up with finding a homeless tramp sleeping on the benches in the cathedral – I took on Nav’s dare and got a photo. He seemed quite well attired although the unkempt beard gave him away:

The tramp sleeps whilst the paparazzi snaps away

Worcester Cathedral, main hall

Underneath the building, they had found a crypt which had been recently refurbished. It felt kind of strange and eerie:

Worcester Cathedral Crypt(on Factor)

Worcester is another nice, unspoilt and classic English town. Streets of small shopping parades mixed with housing estates, a new local shopping centre to keep up the town up-to-date (yet not detracting from the town), and the first dedicated BB-gun shop I’ve ever seen in England (which we quickly visited). Nav wanted to get a crossbow, but thought that travelling around England with it in the car might not be a good idea. We also saw a lot of posh school kids who, I think, should have been in school at that time.

Oh and it was Chav day for Nav too and he really couldn’t dress any whiter either. We passed a bunch of school kids on the way to the cathedral all in their white P.E. kit which Nav would not have looked out of place (although the beard he was sporting may have given him away).

Chav Nav, classic white style

Out of Worcester and onto Ludlow, where apparently my Dad used to live but doesn’t anymore. We were to visit the Ludlow Castle soon after we had a rest. We sat around the car park for 30mins or so, me typing up some blogs (never seemed to have enough time to do them daily so did a whole load of them) and Nav snacking and reading (we found a bookshop selling ridiculously reduced price books, some popular and recent publications at £2 or so – Nav bought four books, and along with all the others that he has bought and brought along, has increased his already extensive reading list further – he’ll never finish them all).

As an aside, I went to a really strange public toilet. It had a touch-sensitive stone panel to flush to toilet (unless the black picture hid away some motion detection device), and one of those 3-in-1 soap, wash and dry sinks. However, the strange thing was that all of a sudden, a female voice said that these public toilets were protected by the local council and that I would be fined or told (something) after a certain amount of time – I think it meant I couldn’t stay in here forever. I got really confused about it and I want you people to go and find out what I’m on about and tell me what the hell just happened.

After that weird experience, I met up with Nav in the small market area to be told that the castle was closed for the day. I did manage to sneak a photograph through a hole in the gates, and after we decided to go around and lounge around by the bank of the river.

Ludlow Castle, through a hole in the front gates

I continued to type up the blog as people wander in and out of the green by the river bank. Teenagers were playing around in the river, swearing at each other to not get them wet, elderly were about listening to the swear seemingly unphased by it, and after a while a local man with his wife (I think, although Nav heard the man refer to the woman as his ‘bitch’ but could be mistaken) came up to us and asked whether my laptop had one of those data card things – which I think he meant wireless internet – to which I replied “No, it’s an old laptop”. Then he said something about being able to work outside and use the internet, and I said “Yes, that would be nice.” And bearing had I finished my sentence he began to walk off – I took a photo of them so that you guys can avoid them when you visit Ludlow.

Frikking weirdoes in Ludlow

We left shortly after, and were supposed to head towards Wroxeter, but decided that the diversion probably wasn’t worth it as all Morton did was meet a bunch of archaeologists at a Roman dig site. Along the way to Shrewsbury (where Nav’s aunt has a ‘drop-in’ house for friends and family) we got stuck behind a higher-than-usual two-carriage articulated lorry. It looked like it would topple on every corner, but managed to stay straight. We approach a petrol station and the driver decided to park up, probably to let those behind pass. When we did so, I noticed that the lorry was higher than the petrol station roof so there would be no chance of it passing underneath. Nav wanted to stay and watch, but instead insisted I watch the road whilst he looked in the rear-view mirror to see what was happening.

We arrived into Shrewsbury and I found it to be difficult to navigate as it was ‘One-way’ world. To get to the house, we ended up taking a scenic route around Shrewsbury and coming in from the north side. We finally reached it and Nav said that it was a dodgy area and comments that we might lose the car by tomorrow morning – the local prison is nearby too…


-- steven

19th June 2005 – Glastonbury, Wells, Bath and Bradford-on-Avon + planned route for week2

We left quite late today, maybe around 11am, so already we had lost an hour or so. First stop was Glastonbury, and along the way Nav showed me numerous places around his home town, such like the school he went to, the bridge that his friend’s dad used to try to go faster each day (until he stuck his car into a tractor), and also where Nav flipped his previous car.

We reach Glastonbury in one piece, found a roadside to park in and walked up Glastonbury Tor. It was another strenuous trek but the route was short. The view from the top was pretty interesting – the majority of Somerset was flatter than a pancake and only a few hills were apparent. I wondered aloud why they had decided to place the building on the highest Tor, when any other (lower) hill would have more or less the same effect – they would still be seen for miles around if they chose a smaller mound.

Glastonbury Tor

Flat Somerset as viewed from the Tor

Glastonbury town centre held the other delights; the Glastonbury Abbey and Thorn. Asking at the TIC, we heard that the original Glastonbury Thorn had died but a number of trimming we taken and planted around the town centre. Annoyingly, the Abbey had an entrance fee. It was becoming more and more apparent that people were making local attractions into money-making schemes. We didn’t bother to go in, although I did take a couple of photos over the fence – don’t know what they are showing though.

Some part of Glastonbury Abbey

Soon after, we drove to Wells in search of the cathedral that holds a more interesting time display than most others. The clock not only displays the time (the inner-most ring), but also the date (2nd ring indicated by the sun) and the number of days since the last full moon (outer ring indicated by the star). We were lucky enough to arrive in time for the quarter hour chime where there is a display of (I forget the actual name – someone tell me) two horse riders going against each other and one knocking the other off. Beats the classic cuckoo clock any day.

Wells Cathedral clock

I think that the Wells Cathedral is the most attractive one so far – the detail in- and out-side of the building was amazing; the pattern carvings on the stone walls; the intricate wood carvings of the seats; the design of the ceilings. Thinking about it, you begin to question how long it must have taken people to build such huge cathedrals, stone by stone. Even with hundreds of workers, the intricacy and layout seemed mind-boggling. Finally, I also found some high-backed chairs to the extreme:

Who would live in a house like this…

Oh and our first American encounter made herself known by saying something in a whiney tone (but I don’t remember what). A picture of her as she walks away – the one with the large bum in blue jeans and colourfully striped jumper.

An American Tourist in Wells

Whilst driving up to our next destination (Bath), Nav spotted a sign pointing towards a ‘Bookbarn’. As we parked up, we found it to be exactly that – a huuuuge barn with books in it. It was ridiculously big with loads of different literature; fact and fiction; hardbacks and paperback; music on tape, cd, lps, sheet music; music-related books; science, biology, etc.; the list just goes on and on and on. The prices were okay too (not charity-style cheap, but more County Bookstore style cheapness). I think we spent about an hour in there, but could easily have stayed forever.

Bookbarn, found somewhere around Bath… possibly…

We reached Bath but didn’t stop. It was a Sunday and it was late, so nothing was open. I believe we may have passed the Roman Baths and Pump-works, but can’t be too sure. We didn’t really look around town either, the lack of atmosphere may well have had a detrimental effect making it feel worthless to visit. As such, we moved swiftly on.

Finally, we moved on towards Bradford-on-Avon, but again being a Sunday and late in the day most of the shops, if not all, were shut. We strolled around the closed town, found that they had a small river running through it, and walked around a bit more. It seemed like a very nice town to live in, localised shopping parades, terrace houses partly surrounding pleasant greens.

After a while, we left to find a campsite west of Bath. We found we drove too far and needed to turn around, so Nav turned into a small road and into a drive-way to turn around. On backing out, he managed to swipe the front-left of the car on the brick post dislodging a few bricks. After adding another set of scratch marks (Nav managed to back the car into a hedge on some country road a few days back), we left pretty sharpish.

The planned route can be found at:
planned route of week 2


-- steven

18th June 2005 – Helston, St Michael’s Mount, Lands End, Tintagel, Clovelly, Barnstaple and Porlock

Slight bonus on the campsite we found – we couldn’t locate the owners nor the reception, so we didn’t pay. We won’t tell you which campsite it was, although I have the name just in case I have a sudden attack of conscience and feel that I should send them a cheque.

Compared with yesterday, today turned out to be a bit crap in the exploratory-side of things. This was probably because of the time schedule that we imposed. We wanted to get have completed Bath or Bristol by tomorrow. It wasn’t the number of places that we needed to visit (although seven places was pushing it somewhat), but the distance that we had to cover – in and out of the deepest part of Cornwall and up along the northern side up to Porlock (Exmoor National Park area).

Helson, the town of the Floral (or Furry) Dance, was driven through with me missing the opportunity to photograph the “You are now entering…” roadside board. Next was St Michael’s Mount, a castle to be found upon an island just off the coast. It looked like it would be possible to walk to the island at low tide, but now wasn’t the time.

St Michael’s Mount

Westward-hoe to Land’s End, and what we found was hideous. They had essentially made Lands End into a themepark. There were tours to pay for (if you so desired) and shops and restaurants and the like for thee tourists. It really was atrocious. I managed to get a photo of the famous (is it really?) Land’s End sign post without their stupid “Your Town?” sign pointing in the opposite direction of New York, and then we walked on towards the ‘last and first house’ of England – which, according to Nav’s Mum is not actually the first nor last house, as there is one further southwards. Yah boo sucks to you, Lands End…

See that 3147miles to NY? We’re covering just over half of that going around England

A caterpillar that Nav found along the way to the ‘first and last’ house

Out of Lands End Themepark(tm), we drove north-east towards Tintagel where legend has it that King Arthur had his round table made up for his. Nav was knackered and I was sweating like Michael Jackson in Mothercare (well done to Max on giving me this line) – it was another hot and sunny day. Nav stayed at the car and I wondered off to find this castle ruin. A short stroll and I had found it, and like the other visitors at the view point: “Well, this is a bit of an anticlimax” said one woman, to which a man replied “It’s a bit more than an anticlimax!” Take a look for yourselves – it really was quite crap.

The ruins of a castle in the cliff side – prizes to those who actually care…

Next stop, Clovelly. Now this village was totally unexpected. It was strange in that at the top of the hill there was a car park, surrounding it were a few shops and what seemed to be an information centre – all were closed. There was a sign directing visitors to Clovelly village. It presented itself like a tourist attraction and that was a real shame. When I saw Clovelly, I was amazed – it looked absolutely lovely, so scenic it seemed like you would only find it in the movies. However, I did feel a bit odd about taking pictures of their village – I don’t know why, maybe it was because to the residents there didn’t seem to be anything tourist-like. The place wasn’t meant to be ostentatious or presented just for photography, yet it all seemed so perfectly made up for such things. Through the hillside village there were a couple of shops and a pub, and further down the path it led to their small port. Fishing seemed to be their local trade and also made accommodation for visitors to go out in their boats for fishing.

The lovely village of Clovelly, that’s the sea you see in the background – you have to see it to believe it

The next stop was Barnstaple. Well, I say stop, maybe that should be drive through, which is exactly what we did. We may have stopped and I don’t remember about it (obviously uninteresting) but also, I’ve not got any photos.

Last on the list of the day’s travel was Porlock. Travelling from Barnstaple, we made our way towards Exmoor National Park taking signs towards Lynton to reach Porlock. Being the passenger, I had the advantage of viewing Exmoor and it was scenic indeed. Hillsides and valleys, winding roads, great views of greenery and what-not, it was a mix of Dartmoor and in-yer-face The Midlands countryside landscape. Unfortunately, what with me starring out the window it meant that I wasn’t directing Nav which ended up with us going towards Lynton and then back down away from it. We more or less reached the southern edge of Exmoor National Park before we realised our error (long roads with few signs in between make it essential that you know which roads to take). And so, we decided that enough was enough and drove eastwards to South Petherton, Nav’s home town, where we stayed for the night.


-- steven

17th June 2005 – Warren Tor, Plymouth, St Just in Roseland and St Anthony in Roseland

We wanted to find Warren Tor yesterday but because the TIC and everything else in Princetown was closed, there was no-one to ask. In the morning, we phoned the TIC, got directions (back into the moors) and made it to Warren House Inn (essentially the same place). What is so special about this place? Well, in the inn is a fire that has been burning for (at least) a couple of centuries. There probably is some significance to it, but nowadays I think it about keeping up with the tradition. We spoke with the female barkeep (who reminded me of Dawn French) about the fire. It burns through a great deal of wood a week, needing a couple of good sized chunks (see picture) every half-day to keep it going.

Warren House Inn, the fire that’s been burning for centuries

To be honest, it was a bit of a sorry excuse for a log fire, although it is summer time and ‘Dawn’ said that they stoke it up some during the winter months as the building has no central heating. After having a cup of tea, we left Dartmoor and headed south to Plymouth and Devenport.

Plymouth city was a nightmare to navigate around. Both the road network and the signage were a mess, but we finally managed to find a place to park and got around town by foot. Plymouth seemed vaguely familiar to me and as I walked further in, I realise that I had been here twice before on my Headstart WILD 1 & 2 courses. Luckily, we had parked on the side of town with the bowling green, the same green where Sir Francis Drake once played when he was told that the Spanish Armada had arrived. Clearly, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition…

Walking around the Plymouth harbour, we stumbled into the area of the Barbican although it was not that interesting. There was supposed to be the old Barbican, but we failed to find it.

Drake, at the Plymouth bowling green, looking out to sea

We found another bookshop too and just so that Nav can remember and write a review on it, here’s a picture:

Plymouth harbour bookshop

We drove east towards Devonport but didn’t stop, the reason being that we wanted to see the dockyard, ended missing the turning and couldn’t be bothered to head back. The area seemed industrialised so it probably wasn’t very interesting. After this, we journey through to Cornwall into a region called Roseland. We visited St Just (in Roseland – as there is a St Just in north Cornwall) and St Anthony (in Roseland), both small villages. In St Just, we visited a small local church, those found in the country-side that are hardly ever used. We found a brochure and written within was an extract from Morton’s ‘In Search of England’ – this is probably St Just’s only ‘claim to fame’ but it was nice to find it.

The area of St Anthony that we visited was nothing more than short walks and a coastal view point. You could see the other part of Roseland (the west part of land divided by the river) but nothing much else of interest. We found a visitors map upon which they had labelled ‘the un-climbable fence’ to which Nav insisted that he give it a go. It was indeed true and to attempt it may have resulted in a skewering.

Nav cheated and went around the edge for the photograph

Morton had mentioned that St Anthony was a place mainly of elderly folk, and I would have been inclined to agree had I not seen a mother and daughter walk down the road. Nonetheless, the entire place is as quiet as Morton describes it. Oh and we nearly ran over a pheasant too, except that Nav says the driver is not allowed to take the pheasant away – someone else can though. I wondered if I was allowed, as even though I was in the same car, I wasn’t the driver. Somewhere in Roseland, we camped.


-- steven

16th June 2005 – Upwey, Exeter, Widecombe on the Moor and Princetown

First port of call was the village of Upwey. It is said to have a (natural spring) well that can grant wishes, so we thought we’d try our luck. The village itself was quite remote and it felt like this was the start of the small towns and villages that are so talked about of England. It was a nice place, but not exactly somewhere to retire to.

We found the wishing well within the well-kept gardens of the local tea house (which was extremely tempting to savour). The water running from it and down the stream looked clean so I dug out my water bottle and Nav filled it up. The saying goes that you are to talk a drink of water and throw the rest of it back into the well over your left shoulder. That we both did and I think we are still waiting for the wishes to come true. We later spotted a couple of signs; one saying that the Black Death originated from this village, and another saying that the water wasn’t treated (So best not to drink it). Ah well…

Nav’s turn first at the Upwey wishing well

And over the shoulder it goes… let’s wait and see if this works

And then onto Exeter to find Prince Rupert’s old room above a bookshop – which we didn’t find. Instead we took some photos of some redeveloped housing made to look old. The cathedral was also visited although only Nav went in (for about 5 mins) – apparently, it’s not one of the nicest cathedrals.

Prince Rupert’s old room? Maybe, but can you find Steven?

Finally, we visited Stepcote Hill, a steep cobbled street, of which we photographed just like in ‘In Search of England’. Whilst sitting on the steps, a man who seemed to be ‘a bit out of it’ (and probably homeless) walked by and out from his open backpack fell a lighter and I called to him, but he didn’t seem to hear. Suddenly, a load of paper fell to the ground but still he walked on. Nav and I looked at each other and decided that a quick and quiet exit up the Hill was in order.

View down Stepcote Hill

Our next destination was Widecombe on the Moor, travelling through Dartmoor National Park, up and down hills, in and out of the mist. It’s the first time I’ve been driving through the moors and boy, was it interesting (and jolly good fun too). Even in the day time, the higher you get into the moors, the denser the mist until you can only see 10 or so metres in front. Plus there are animals lying on the road side, so it meant that we had to be on our toes. Widecombe is another small village, made eerie by the light mist floating around. There were only one or two villagers walking about and a couple of shops open. I stopped in one to purchase some local (clotted cream) fudge, Nav purchased a tea towel with the local song written on it. It read more like a story with sentences broken up to fit into the appropriate song form – it wasn’t an interesting song, so I won’t bother to tell you about it. We are currently using the tea towel for the dishes – it’s quite good and soaks up water really well…

The final stop of the day was Princetown, somewhere in the middle of the Dartmoor Park. This was far more eerie than anywhere I have ever seen – it was like something from the movies. The mist was pea-soap like and the place deserted. We walked about the place but were told that the all the shops had shut (an empty tour bus had stopped by the Tourist Information Centre [TIC] also). The town looked to be building a primary or secondary school, which was nearly finished. A few shops were dotted around the street but nothing that you would consider to be a parade of shops. We found one shop where the owner had simply given their section of the building to the local council without payment. Clearly, it’s difficult to do business here, although it was an ‘arts and craft’ store. We left Princetown and found that the houses extended further than we thought. The pea-soup clouded a few other streets and also the local prison, something that we were looking for (because it was in Morton’s book).

Spooky Princetown

Heading westwards, we drove through and out of the moors, on towards Tavistock for the camp site. There we found the owner to be a little odd in an indescribable manner. We parted with our money and set camp.


-- steven