Monday, October 01, 2007

Totnes and Dartmouth

With the weather decidedly wet and foggy a day up on moors seems ill-advised, so instead we head to Totnes with the intention of taking a return trip by boat to Dartmouth.

Sadly our plans look like they may be thwarted as the boat company inform us that whilst a boat will be heading to Dartmouth at the allotted time, it will only return in the afternoon if at least twelve people book tickets. Dad enquires how many places have been booked so far and receives the reply "well if you two say yea, that will take us up to....errr....two".

With no better ideas for what to do on a wet Monday in Totnes, we decide to take the planned boat to Dartmouth and with bus timetable in hand, find alternative transport back.

There's not a great deal to do in Dartmouth, a bit of a walk down the front and a mooch around the town, but at least it provides the opportunity to find a thank you present for the Dog Collars & Rabbit Corpses. On top of the their taxi services at the start and end of this trip, Stuart has been the saviour of my ABS/MOT nightmares, by taking my car in to the garage whilst I'm away, to allow them to do the necessary work to stop a little yellow light shining and more importantly to them no doubt send me a huge bill, and more importantly to me, issue a MOT certificate.

But what is the suitable present to buy from Devon. Try as I can, I can't resist the vanilla and clotted cream smells emanating from 'Edwards' homemade fudge shop. It seems just a bit too clich├ęd, but a taster confirms this is good fudge and hey we could always call it post-modern irony. Yep, I'll take a large box of assorted flavours please Edward.

The bus trip back is fairly uneventful until we reach the outskirts of Totnes and stop at a high school and the bus fills with young, mobile phone and attitude brandishing adolescents.

I'm not sure which is more fascinating, the anthropological spectacular playing out before us, or the vision of incredulity on my father's face.

Oh and some young girls - they hunt in packs.

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