A Bus to Barnstaple but not Beyond….

Last night we ventured into Hele Bay Hotel for a drink. Trepidation with each step. Would it be heaving? Would we be able to social distance? A big barn of a place, soulless and thin on the ground with any charm. Bartender wearing a surgical mask. It still all seems so surreal. I still quite expect them to say, here’s your drinks and let me know when you want your medical procedure.

The social distancing was spot on. So well was the social distancing in place that we were the only customers in the pub albeit a few locals huddled in a corner…..very far from us. Wherever people are thronging it certainly isn’t here!

We walked down to the beach and it looked so beautiful.

On the way back we saw bats swooping around in the dusk. All very quiet on the campsite but can’t imagine it normally is.

We had plans to watch a film when we got back but just went to sleep pretty quickly.

On the way to the pub we saw a bus stop and decided that we would travel to Barnstaple for the day. We haven’t been on any form of public transport since lockdown so the prospect did seem bizarrely exciting.

What a lovely bus driver…has the world gone mad? A woman got on the bus with two small children and asked if she could pay by card. She couldn’t so started to get off the bus but then the driver said that the next stop was near to an autobank so she could nip out and get some money. Which was really good as the buses are every hour. Then when we got off he was really helpful in explaining in detail where we needed to get the bus back. Maybe the lockdown has made bus drivers take stock in that the public aren’t that bad after all or it was a case that we hit lucky!

One of the first ‘sights’ we saw as we got off the bus was the Barnstaple Clock Tower, erected in memory of Prince Albert. It is also known as the ‘ four faced liar’ as every one of its four clock faces gives a different time.

Which makes me think of the town’s penchant for voting for Tory MPs. Their latest is Delaine Saxby and true to form has voted against measures to prevent climate change, voted for a stricter asylum system, voted against measures to avoid tax avoidance and the list goes on….

We then headed over to Barnstaple’s Pannier Market. On the Visit Devon site it is described as a ‘must see attraction for all visitors in the town’.

Trip Advisor described it as an ‘outstanding facility..the vibrant beating heart of Barnstaple’. It was a lovely building but if vibrancy is linked to selling a load of tat then it is vibrant in bucket loads!

Buoyed by so much outstanding vibrancy we decided to have a calming cup of tea at The Royal and Fortescue Hotel.

Always comforting to see mobility scooters in the foyer lined up, as their presence meant that Pete and I would probably look like bright new things.

When in Devon it would seem churlish not to partake in a cream and jam scone. Automatically putting cream first then jam and then pondering if this is the right way here. Some people get very hot under the collar about it all. For me it seems right and if you put it the other way I think there is more of a chance of the cream slipping off and that would be a catastrophe!

I had put it the right way for Devon and the wrong way for Cornwall which was good to know I hadn’t made a terrible faux pas, as if it really matters. Hearing that this is the preferred method of the Queen I felt like being anarchic with my other scone half. However, apparently the Science is in agreement with the Devon way. Dr Stuart Farrimond and baker Mich Turner after much research claim that the correct proportions for the scone is 4:3:3. That is 40g of scone with 30g of jam and cream respectively. They also conclude that the cream should be applied first as it facilitates the application of jam more easily. At a time when Science is being woefully ignored I am going to go with the Science!

Sometimes when I am with Pete I feel like a supermodel as he is always wanting to take snaps of me.

Like me here on the High Street with a fridge or could it be a work of art?, I think I am grimacing here wondering why I have to stand next to a fridge on Barnstaple High Street. I think possible there were more than a few passer bus wondering the exact same thing.

We walked by the river Taw and had a picnic.

After a walk down by River Taw and through Rock Park we then looked around the shops. Pete got 4 records, I was particularly pleased with the Supertramp album Breakfast in America. Whether I was ever cool or not I can now freely admit that I loved this album when I was younger. He also got a Madonna one, Killing Joke and Kate Bush, so a very mixed bag.

The River Taw was the inspiration for Henry Williamson’s book called Tarka the otter. I had noticed a few namesakes around Barnstaple but had thought it nothing of it. Although his claim that his book was inspired from a time when he rescued an otter pup this isn’t altogether true. However, he did do alot of research into the habitat and habits of otters. The book went apparently went a long way in changing people’s opinions of the otter that it wasn’t vermin as they previously thought. Despite this I was disappointed to find out that he had been friends with and supported Oswald Mosley.

After a scintillating trip round the shops we headed back to the bus station. On the bus back there a bit of a ‘soap’ opera that kicked off. Someone’s washing up liquid leaked all over the front of the bus. An American woman beside us asked the bus driver whether it was Fairy, to which he nodded safely. I thought that was very astute of her. Moments earlier she had been engrossed in taking a photo of clouds that she swore looked like two dogs kissing. The bus driver swung into action and cleaned it all up, then placed his newspaper on it to avoid accidents it was a Daily Star so that seemed the best use of it

We went back to the beach here. I braced myself and took the plunge. It felt colder than yesterday. Pete went swimming far out again and then round the headland. This made me very anxious. I went back and sunbathed and couldn’t help but listen to the conversations around me. Most of them inane. But then probably if anyone eavesdropped on me and Pete they would think we were incredibly boring. Two women behind me had let their children go into the sea without them. One of them was berating a man really loudly, yes that’s right, stand in my way so I can’t see my kids. I could feel the palpable indignation behind me. Maybe I am old fashioned but if she was so concerned she should have been in the sea with them.