Up early this morning . . . our last with ACE Camps. With all of our luggage we walk one last time to the Park Road townhouse for breakfast and good-byes. An Uber picks us up at 9:30AM to whisk us to Paddington Station for our train to Exeter in Devonshire.
We arrive with plenty of time to spare, as our train doesn't depart until 11:06AM. First, we must access our train tickets from the automated ticket machines. Though I watch others use the terminals to access their tickets, it admittedly takes a couple of tries on my part to be successful. With time to spare, we have a bite to eat and people watch while waiting for our train.
The mad rush to get on the train is amazing . . . as large as it is, we are left to stand with quite a few others the whole several hour trip. Not to worry . . . it is a great advantage to photograph the lush, green countryside with gently rolling hills. Occasionally, we pass over small trestle bridges that give a glimpse of the charm I have been yearning to see and experience!
We arrive with plenty of time to spare, as our train doesn't depart until 11:06AM. First, we must access our train tickets from the automated ticket machines. Though I watch others use the terminals to access their tickets, it admittedly takes a couple of tries on my part to be successful. With time to spare, we have a bite to eat and people watch while waiting for our train.
The mad rush to get on the train is amazing . . . as large as it is, we are left to stand with quite a few others the whole several hour trip. Not to worry . . . it is a great advantage to photograph the lush, green countryside with gently rolling hills. Occasionally, we pass over small trestle bridges that give a glimpse of the charm I have been yearning to see and experience!
Arriving in Exeter at 1:28PM, we find a taxi to take us to the Auto Europe office on Marsh Green Road North to pick up our rental car. Curiously, the rental company spends no time going over the car with us . . . not to show us how to turn the lights on, windshield wipers, heat. In fact, it is several days later that we discover it has GPS!
With me driving, Gypsy navigating and Petunia cosy in the backseat with extra luggage that doesn't fit "in the boot", we head off. Soon it becomes evident that the critic directions we were given make no sense . . . circumnavigating a major roundabout at least three times, and feeling peckish, we find our way to The Mill on the Exe for a late lunch. The location is lovely. The food — fish and chips all around — not quite so. But, no worries, we are on the second leg of our England adventure!
With me driving, Gypsy navigating and Petunia cosy in the backseat with extra luggage that doesn't fit "in the boot", we head off. Soon it becomes evident that the critic directions we were given make no sense . . . circumnavigating a major roundabout at least three times, and feeling peckish, we find our way to The Mill on the Exe for a late lunch. The location is lovely. The food — fish and chips all around — not quite so. But, no worries, we are on the second leg of our England adventure!
After lunch and a pint, we make our way to the M5 and head to Lustleigh where we'll be staying eight nights. Once on the highway, I begin to relax back into driving on the "wrong" side of the road. At the junction with the A382, we head northwest. This is a small (aka narrower and more curvy) road that begins to describe the lovely English countryside.
Why Lustleigh? Over the past couple of years we've heard much about this quaint English village from our Traveling Nuest'a sister Mama Rosa. Her step-daughter Nina, who Gypsy and I have met, lives and maintains her artist studio there. Guidebooks describe Lustleigh as a "picture postcard Devon village with a pretty collection of thatched cottages." Sounds like something straight out of a Miss Marple or Midsommers Murder mystery!
The turn-off for Lustleigh is easy to miss, but we didn't! The road into the village is just about one vehicle wide and the village itself is wee. The center of the village is literally the church with the narrow roadway circling around. Following our directions (but not very well), we continue straight ahead and up the hillside looking for the 6th mailbox. Turning up the steep, narrow driveway we become suspect that this is not Highfield House. Parking in front of the garage, we ring the doorbell to discover we're right . . . this is not where we are meant to be!
Why Lustleigh? Over the past couple of years we've heard much about this quaint English village from our Traveling Nuest'a sister Mama Rosa. Her step-daughter Nina, who Gypsy and I have met, lives and maintains her artist studio there. Guidebooks describe Lustleigh as a "picture postcard Devon village with a pretty collection of thatched cottages." Sounds like something straight out of a Miss Marple or Midsommers Murder mystery!
The turn-off for Lustleigh is easy to miss, but we didn't! The road into the village is just about one vehicle wide and the village itself is wee. The center of the village is literally the church with the narrow roadway circling around. Following our directions (but not very well), we continue straight ahead and up the hillside looking for the 6th mailbox. Turning up the steep, narrow driveway we become suspect that this is not Highfield House. Parking in front of the garage, we ring the doorbell to discover we're right . . . this is not where we are meant to be!
With help from the house's owner, we gingerly turn the car around in the way too tight driveway and make our way back to the road. As previously mentioned, the roads here are barely one vehicle wide and my worst horror comes to pass — a van is coming up the steep hill as we are going down. It becomes clear that in this stand-off it is us who needs to back up and find a place to pull out so the other can pass. Easier said then done. By the time I find a steep narrow driveway to back up into, I am drenched in perspiration . . . Continuing back down the hill, we ask a passerby for directions that put us on the correct turnoff. Minutes later we are ringing the bell at the very lovely Highfield House and being welcomed by its owner Helen Waterworth. |
After being shown around and taken up to our rooms, we regroup for a glass of wine in the living room before walking into Lustleigh for a pub dinner. Helen tells us there are two options: we can walk along the narrow and steep road, or we can take the footpath that runs along the back of their property. Oh, what fun . . . we opt for the footpath!
The footpath follow along a creek strewn with large boulders and dense vegetation. The tops of a few lovely old homes can just be seen from time to time. My imagination runs rampant with possibilities of English murder and mayhem in woods such as these. Eventually, the footpath opens up to a field and village park with a huge boulder engraved with names of those who died during wars. At the far end of the park a short roadway leads to the center of the village and continues like a moat around the church that rises on a slight hill like a centerpiece. Across from where we entered Lustleigh is the pub — The Cleve. It is everything I imagine an country English pub to be with a old dark wood bar, fireplace and small tables. The food is surprisingly tasty . . . as is the rich, dark beer.
The footpath follow along a creek strewn with large boulders and dense vegetation. The tops of a few lovely old homes can just be seen from time to time. My imagination runs rampant with possibilities of English murder and mayhem in woods such as these. Eventually, the footpath opens up to a field and village park with a huge boulder engraved with names of those who died during wars. At the far end of the park a short roadway leads to the center of the village and continues like a moat around the church that rises on a slight hill like a centerpiece. Across from where we entered Lustleigh is the pub — The Cleve. It is everything I imagine an country English pub to be with a old dark wood bar, fireplace and small tables. The food is surprisingly tasty . . . as is the rich, dark beer.
After dinner, we retrace our steps back along the footpath to Highfield House. After being in London, it is nice to be back in a rural landscape with dark and starry skies, and quiet.