With some regret, I left London via the Elizabeth Line (way modern compared to the Northern Line! And roomy!) to Paddington, where I got a last minute ticket to Exeter. Standing room only on the train, but I got to stand next to three of the best behaved dogs in the UK. I finally arrived in Exeter St. David Railway Station and was standing in line to get another ticket for the second leg to Barnstaple when a Great Western agent walked up to me in back of the line and asked where I was off to. He said I had 4 minutes to get the ticket from him and then run to platform 3b so I was off to the races. Made it with a minute to spare. Then it was an hour trip through tree tunnels and open vistas to Barnstaple. There is something oddly comforting to hear the tree branches whacking into the power car on the front of your train. It feels like I am traveling back in time to a simpler age. Now if I could just take a trip in the traincar I rode in on my first trip to the UK where each compartment seated 4 people in its own area, like the train to Hogwarts, but each compartment had two doors, one that accessed the hall of the car and one that exited directly onto the the station platform.
As the train rolled along, one old grey stone home on the hill near High Bickington just spoke to me, think Downton Abbey, writ small. Love Devon. Immediately walked to The Block for a combo Kimchi and Arancini, they call it a Kimchini. We may be seeing fusion foods taken a step too far, at least name-wise. Very nicely done, though, the kimchi really made the arancini pop.
The Vietnamese special noodle dish was good but I forgot to get a picture and it is not on the menu. Neuang Goong, maybe?
The next morning I had the first of two breakfasts, one rather good and one merely ok, at the Park Hotel. This morning I had smoked haddock with poached eggs and the haddock was perfect. Lightly smoked, firm but tender, and entirely delicious. The poached eggs were a step past jammy so I liked them but not as much. Poached should be jammier.
The next day I had a full English breakfast and it was good, not great. The english bacon was very nice but the sausage was almost too mild and the beans were Heinz mild, not great. No black pudding. Sad.
But after the first breakfast I was off on a little walk to the place I came to this part of Devon to see. I had always wanted to see where my old ship, the Golden Hinde, had been “born” even though I knew the boatyard closed long ago. The showers came and went, but the Fremington Pill (river) passing by Muddlebridge Cottages won the day if only for name alone.
Then the rain set in a bit so I sheltered with some cyclists until the rain slowed. Walked along Home Farm Marsh, simply beautiful. England is kind of like Montana in that the weather can go from blue skies to rain and back to blue skies in an hour.
Arrived in Instow …
And hopped the volunteer operated ferry to Appledore, the home of the Hinde. Everyone was chatting and, me being the stranger, they asked why I came to Appledore. When I mentioned the HInde a young man said he knew right where it was built and where it had been fitted out because his uncle worked on it. So he got me pointed in the right direction even though he was confused as to why I would travel to visit an abandoned and wrecked boatyard. So I walked around the headland and over to the Hinks Boatyard which was nearly completely gone. Sad, but cathartic somehow. The Hinde and the people I crewed with were a big part of my first RTW trip.
Took a photo of a stone spiral someone has built under the tide line. Interesting.
Then it was back to Appledore proper for a Devon Crab Baguette and a quarter pound of Red Leicester Cheese. The crab baguette was pre-made and totally meh, but the Red Leicester Cheese was really good.
Bus was not due for an hour so I backtracked to The Beaver Pub, where the owner was very gracious and the terrace perfectly sunwashed on an otherwise cool day.
Hopped the 21A bus back from Appledore to Barnstaple, the walk was long enough that doing it once was sufficient. Hit Tiffin, which apparently means lunch in India. I thought it was a tin can that lunch was delivered in, but I learn new stuff every day. They had a “Home Style Chicken Thigh Curry, Like We Make at Home” so I had to try it and it was very nicely done. Well spiced with layered flavors without rolling the Scovilles for the sake of heat alone. Very nice!
Then I walked back to the Park and took a shot of an old wrecked fishing boat on the shore of the Taw River. Rock Park and the photo at the bottom are behind the lightpost in this shot.
Oh, if you ever stay at the Park, ask for room 214. It is a corner room that overlooks Rock Park, just a beautiful view.
There is something about a nice hotel room that recharges the battery of life. Clean crisp sheets, a comfortably firm bed and a view of parks, rivers or oceans that you have never seen before. That is the life.
