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.
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.
We found another bookshop too and just so that Nav can remember and write a review on it, here’s a picture:
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.
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
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.
We found another bookshop too and just so that Nav can remember and write a review on it, here’s a picture:
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.
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
posted by Steven | 12:42 pm
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