Great Torrington (Day 2)

This morning the church bells peeled for half an hour. The sound of them reminded us of many places we've stayed in France. Despite a quiet night, we decided to move Marge to a space at the top of the carpark nearer to the parked cars where she wouldn't be so isolated when we left her to go cycling. Also, because a group of youngsters in cars and on motorbikes arrived near us around ten o' clock last night. Not that they were any problem, just meeting up to chat, leaving around eleven.

 Enjoy the view, Marge. The fields below looked stunning. To the right the two leper strips visible, remnants of seven strip fields from the medieval period. One hundred and fifty years ago in the nearby village of Taddiport there was a leprosy hospital. 

Brompton's at the ready we walked down the path behind the car park, stopping to speak with a lady who informed us it was her eighty first birthday today. We asked if she knew the route down to the Tarka Trail. After some thought she pointed us in the right direction down a steep path towards the river. Soon we had to stop. John's front tyre was flat. Our cycling trip looked in jeopardy of not going ahead. After twice trying to repair the inner tube with patches well past their sell by date success was achieved. We decided to press on to Bideford rather than Barnstaple just in case the repair didn't hold out. 

Following the instructions given we cycled through the derelict site of the old Dairy Crest creamery awaiting development after thirty years of closure, then along a rutted track to the Puffing Billy cafe where there was no sign to tell us which direction we needed to go for Bideford.

Asking some local cyclists, we were soon on our way enjoying cycling off road over a tarmacked surface up and down gradients, through tunnels and over bridges following alongside the river Torridge. Due to our false starts it took us two and a half hours to reach Bideford.

We lunched by the river watching a man paint an ancient and very rusty tug boat. We wondered if he would ever finish this project the task seemed monumental. Nearby we could hear the dulcet tones of a brass band trumpeting, drumming and oompahing popular tunes. We listened a while whilst we ate ice cream. John couldn't bear the sight of the weeds growing in the adjacent Diana Memorial Rose Garden and set to pulling some of them up.

Across the road a beautiful floral display in celebration of the queen's platinum jubilee caught our eye.

Bideford a thriving port in the fifteenth century exporting pottery to Europe and America. The ships returning with tobacco and salt cod is described as one of the prettiest and distinctive towns in north Devon. 

Just before five we returned to Marge having stopped on the return ride to pick wild garlic from the side of the cycleway. We took a different route back into the town walking with our bicycles up a very steep road that seemed to go on for ever. Whilst we have found Devon to be very pretty and scenic, we are starting to hate the hills. Aren't we Marge? Hear you had a bike malfunction today. It's not just me that causes your ills then? No Marge. Tomorrow we're off to Ilfracombe, don't be getting any ideas about playing up please.

Great Torrington

Yesterday afternoon Angela noticed a lady walking her dogs appear from a path behind the public toilets. Thinking the area looked like good hunting ground for fungi she suggested her and John take a walk that way.

Sadly, the fungi were in short supply and John only spotted one on the back of a tree in the lane by the old rectory.

The evening sky was clear, so just before nine thirty we walked down to the castle hoping to catch the sunset.

The ticket office for the castle was closed so we walked into the courtyard area for a sneaky peek. We needed to gain height to see the sunset so climbed high up onto the coast path.

We were too late to see the actual sun setting. All that messing around down at the castle had caused us to miss it. A couple who'd seen it shared their photographs with us. Never mind, we've seen some beautiful sunsets on our travels and know we have many more yet to see.

Only five vans including Marge last night. Our new neighbours had a teenage daughter. What's she wearing? They're a bit short. Very hot, hot pants Marge.

This morning we awoke to notification that two comments had been left on our blog. One from Ben ( Youtuber - Bejam) who we'd helped out a North Sands and another from the couple we'd met last night up on the coast path. So, it appears comments can now be left after a technical issue. So, feel free folks. Comment away. 

It was lunchtime before we left Tintagel walking down to Pengenna Pasties to buy our lunch. Not long after we left Marge decided to have a right strop going into safe mode, and then illuminating a warning light that caused concern so we stopped. Honestly Marge, you're bad for Angela's heart. All this stress. We restarted her and the light had gone out. Look my engine management lights not illuminated either. Well thank god Marge!

Bude was our chosen lunch stop. This is where we spent our honeymoon twenty-three years ago. The town was busy. We parked Marge with some other vans, paid for an hour's parking and took a walk around. Bude is no longer motorhome or campervan friendly because someone was living in a van by the canal. There were signs up everywhere saying basically you're not welcome! You're banned between eleven at night and nine in the morning. Incredible! We wondered how the traders in the town felt about it. The car parks are nearly empty at night, why not charge a small fee like they do in some of the other towns. Angela is so infuriated by it she's going to email the chief executive of the local council.

More driving on to Bideford. Fortunately, Marge created no more worries for us but Bideford did. We were expecting there to be lots of vans there, but there wasn't. The area didn't feel comfortable. We deliberated for some time about staying and after much too long decided to leave. The next stop was no good. No Campervans Overnight! Why? So, we drove inland to Great Torrington where we knew we could stay for eight pounds. 

Great Torrington is a pretty unpretentious town. It reminded us of France as do the far-reaching views across the open countryside behind Marge. Stunning. Angela is a believer that some things happen for a reason. Bideford's loss is Great Torrington's gain, especially Yau's House Chine take-away. What a lovely meal.

Tomorrow, we hope to cycle a section of the Tarka Trail. We will probably stay at Great Torrington a second night, our eight-pound overnight charge covers us until Monday evening as the parking is free on Sundays. Result Marge.