Tales from Turner's cottage
(I had wanted to make my post about visiting Greenwich with alilacia first, but for some reason the photos are taking forever to upload and I'll be old before they do - so that'll be at some point in the future. Suffice to say it was awesome and she is awesome :D)
So, I set off for the cottage at 8am this morning, and made it to Torcross by 1.30pm. I'd originally intended to stop in a lovely little town called Newton Abbot on the way, but honestly, I'd kind of forgotten how far it is to get to Devon, plus this is the first _long_ (think over 2.5 hours straight - yeah, I can hear my US friends laughing from here, because hell, that's not a long trip!) trip I've done since I got the car, so I just kept on going until I got here. The very last stretch was down the most teeny weeny country lanes ever, and I'm sure my sat nav took me down them on purpose when there was a perfectly feasible route another way *shakes fist*. I kept holding my breath every time I went round a sharp corner or over a steep hill that there wouldn't be one of the locals zooming towards me, because these are single track roads with laughably small passing places at infrequent intervals. The road into Torcross is fantastic, as it's on a spit of land (lol) called Slapton Sands with the sea on one side and a freshwater reservoir on the other, with the cliffs and lighthouse far off in the distance round the bay. Anyway, I made it, found somewhere to park nearby, and trekked up the hill with my stuff to the cottage.
OMG, it is adorable. It's really, really tiny - so tiny there isn't even room for a washing machine or wardrobe (because obv Will would use the sink, and his sea chest *g*), and there's lots of clever space-saving design features and the whole place is really eco-friendly.
This is the kitchen and the door into the shower room/WC - it's tiny, like a galley kitchen (only without any rats :-/)
The desk (which has a map set into the top - cool!) lifts up to reveal a selection of books.
The view is gorgeous. It's not of the ocean, but I can see over the reservoir and to the hills beyond. It's so peaceful. I love the quietness of it.
Also, Will left me a note! And you can see a bit of the awesome map of the local area set into the desk under glass. I spent a good half hour looking at all the names of the tiny places with their lovely old English etymological roots (it's a bit of an obession of mine).
The only tricky thing about the place being so small is that it has a treacherously narrow staircase - again, not unlike a ship. It does mean I have to go down the stairs sideways like a crab. My feet aren't particularly big, but they're still longer than the step is wide! However, this is more than made up for by the fact that the hand rail is made of an old oar. I hope Jack won't be offended...
(Lol, I just realised there's two pairs of shoes in this photo - I was still unpacking! I'm not obsessed with shoes, honest! *crosses fingers and tries to look innocent*)
After I'd unpacked and settled in, and had a short nap, I went down to the beach for a wander. The slate of the cliffs is an extraordinary colour - almost blue. I've never seen it quite so vivid before. They're almost the same colour as the sea.
The texture is also very beautiful, and I bet these rocks are full of fossils!
Around the headland you can just make out the lighthouse in the centre of this photo (bigger if you click on it).
I think that's Start Point, near Salcombe, which I might visit in the next day or so. There was a significant wreck of a ship discovered there in 1994, containing a huge yield of Moroccan gold and dating from the 17th century, but the ship remains unidentified. It's a big draw for divers, now, but you have to be escorted - understandably, if it still might contain treasure *g*
I wandered a bit further down the beach and sat down in the shingle (not _quite_ as uncomfortable as you might imagine) to watch the waves. I'd tried to skim a couple of stones but failed miserably, as I'm terribly out of practise XD
The bay curves round to the north-east, and the very edge of the land you can see is the estuary at Dartmouth.
Eventually my arse did get numb from sitting on the pebbles, so I headed back towards Will's cottage, this time on the side of the reservoir. Incongrously, there is a large Sherman tank plonked rather unceremoniously at the edge of one of the car parks. This is all that was recovered from a WW2 training exercise which went terribly wrong - though that part is usually hushed up. I only found out about it because the partner of one of my mum's friend's used to be a police constable in the district, and he knew about it from the locals.
The US military had been given permission to train up here at Torcross, but during nighttime training manouvres, they were fired on by German U-boats. In the resulting panic, UK troops accidentally fired on the US ships in an attempt to destroy the German subs, and took both down in the process. There's a memorial set up next to the tank to honour those who died.
The reservoir is so peaceful (apart from a few noisy ducks), and such a contrast to the wild sea just across the narrow strip of land dividing them, and belies the turbulence of the recent history of the place.
Then it was back up the hill, to make dinner and upload photos. I'm about to crash out now in Will's bed, and hopefully the weather will be fine enough for a swim tomorrow. Further adventures will follow, no doubt!
So, I set off for the cottage at 8am this morning, and made it to Torcross by 1.30pm. I'd originally intended to stop in a lovely little town called Newton Abbot on the way, but honestly, I'd kind of forgotten how far it is to get to Devon, plus this is the first _long_ (think over 2.5 hours straight - yeah, I can hear my US friends laughing from here, because hell, that's not a long trip!) trip I've done since I got the car, so I just kept on going until I got here. The very last stretch was down the most teeny weeny country lanes ever, and I'm sure my sat nav took me down them on purpose when there was a perfectly feasible route another way *shakes fist*. I kept holding my breath every time I went round a sharp corner or over a steep hill that there wouldn't be one of the locals zooming towards me, because these are single track roads with laughably small passing places at infrequent intervals. The road into Torcross is fantastic, as it's on a spit of land (lol) called Slapton Sands with the sea on one side and a freshwater reservoir on the other, with the cliffs and lighthouse far off in the distance round the bay. Anyway, I made it, found somewhere to park nearby, and trekked up the hill with my stuff to the cottage.
OMG, it is adorable. It's really, really tiny - so tiny there isn't even room for a washing machine or wardrobe (because obv Will would use the sink, and his sea chest *g*), and there's lots of clever space-saving design features and the whole place is really eco-friendly.
This is the kitchen and the door into the shower room/WC - it's tiny, like a galley kitchen (only without any rats :-/)
The desk (which has a map set into the top - cool!) lifts up to reveal a selection of books.
The view is gorgeous. It's not of the ocean, but I can see over the reservoir and to the hills beyond. It's so peaceful. I love the quietness of it.
Also, Will left me a note! And you can see a bit of the awesome map of the local area set into the desk under glass. I spent a good half hour looking at all the names of the tiny places with their lovely old English etymological roots (it's a bit of an obession of mine).
The only tricky thing about the place being so small is that it has a treacherously narrow staircase - again, not unlike a ship. It does mean I have to go down the stairs sideways like a crab. My feet aren't particularly big, but they're still longer than the step is wide! However, this is more than made up for by the fact that the hand rail is made of an old oar. I hope Jack won't be offended...
(Lol, I just realised there's two pairs of shoes in this photo - I was still unpacking! I'm not obsessed with shoes, honest! *crosses fingers and tries to look innocent*)
After I'd unpacked and settled in, and had a short nap, I went down to the beach for a wander. The slate of the cliffs is an extraordinary colour - almost blue. I've never seen it quite so vivid before. They're almost the same colour as the sea.
The texture is also very beautiful, and I bet these rocks are full of fossils!
Around the headland you can just make out the lighthouse in the centre of this photo (bigger if you click on it).
I think that's Start Point, near Salcombe, which I might visit in the next day or so. There was a significant wreck of a ship discovered there in 1994, containing a huge yield of Moroccan gold and dating from the 17th century, but the ship remains unidentified. It's a big draw for divers, now, but you have to be escorted - understandably, if it still might contain treasure *g*
I wandered a bit further down the beach and sat down in the shingle (not _quite_ as uncomfortable as you might imagine) to watch the waves. I'd tried to skim a couple of stones but failed miserably, as I'm terribly out of practise XD
The bay curves round to the north-east, and the very edge of the land you can see is the estuary at Dartmouth.
Eventually my arse did get numb from sitting on the pebbles, so I headed back towards Will's cottage, this time on the side of the reservoir. Incongrously, there is a large Sherman tank plonked rather unceremoniously at the edge of one of the car parks. This is all that was recovered from a WW2 training exercise which went terribly wrong - though that part is usually hushed up. I only found out about it because the partner of one of my mum's friend's used to be a police constable in the district, and he knew about it from the locals.
The US military had been given permission to train up here at Torcross, but during nighttime training manouvres, they were fired on by German U-boats. In the resulting panic, UK troops accidentally fired on the US ships in an attempt to destroy the German subs, and took both down in the process. There's a memorial set up next to the tank to honour those who died.
The reservoir is so peaceful (apart from a few noisy ducks), and such a contrast to the wild sea just across the narrow strip of land dividing them, and belies the turbulence of the recent history of the place.
Then it was back up the hill, to make dinner and upload photos. I'm about to crash out now in Will's bed, and hopefully the weather will be fine enough for a swim tomorrow. Further adventures will follow, no doubt!