Forgetting The Roof Rack

Just back from a three day break in Devon. The five and a half hour drive down reminded us why we rarely go ‘south’ these days, took us less than four coming back mind you.

It’s been a while since we’ve been down there and it’s all change with the local pubs. The ‘Hook and Parrot’ now sells the rather good Cornish beers from Sharps whilst the ‘Anchor’ now sells Dorset beer from Hall & Woodhouse, the dreaded Badger Ales, although I do have a liking for a spot for Tanglefoot, their strong ale. The point is though that they’re not exactly standing up for the Devonian brewing industry. Nowhere sells our favourite local brew, Otter Ale, not even the ‘Ship’, which was once a nailed on certainty.

These things are important. Local beers and ciders are one of the few remaining ways of telling you where you are in this country. A country that has identikit high streets in every town, all full of the same brand names. I mean you can’t come home from a weekend away and rave to your friends about the fantastic pint of Fosters you had in the local Wetherspoons, can you. New experiences and new discoveries are what travelling is all about. Finding those unique little pubs tucked away down some quiet lane where they sell the local firewater brewed by a tiny microbrewery is all part of the holiday experience.

Beer apart, our main reason for going down there was to support the ‘Midsummer Dream’, previously advertised as 17 miles, 5 pubs and a cream tea. Ok, so it was more of a stagger than a run and I’d never done it, although L had several times. So typically, as soon as I enter, the ‘sue anything that moves’ culture means that they have to scrap this format and instead put on a ‘dry’ run with a modified route that takes the runners away from the temptation of the pubs.

Some people clearly decide to opt out of the new arrangements and run the old route, under the old rules, whilst the rest of us make the most of the new situation. It goes ok, well, as well as 17 miles attached to a couple of collies can do. It’s all very leisurely, which isn’t my thing at all but then I’m only really here for the weekend away. We don’t get enough of those these days.

It’s a really scenic run, across the cliff tops and then back across country. Some odd person decided to mountain bike it because they were injured. Running on one leg would have been easier. Talking of which, L did run it on one leg. She appeared to hop round most of the 17 miles which was mightily impressive, all due to her semi-injured state. I regret not putting the roof rack on the car, as this may be the only way to get her home. It looks unlikely she’ll be able to sit down afterwards.

The run all started and finished at a music festival in the village of Beer. Unfortunately, the festival was sadly lacking in one key ingredient, beer. Unforgivable for place called Beer. Well decent beer at least, so we, like many others, were forced to decamp elsewhere, so that we could sample the ‘local’ Cornish and Dorset brews.

It all just wasn’t quite the same without the pubs on route, although the cream tea survived, so they’ll need to come up with some other gimmick if the race is to survive.

Everything else went really well, the camping was good and we seemed to get the best of the weather all weekend. It was really hot and like a sauna at times in our tent, although we did have two dogs in there helping to heat things up. We’ll have to go back again, race or not, because we didn’t get chance to give the campsite’s unisex showers a whirl, as is tradition.

Doggo got to cool off in the sea, although he lost us a lot of a sticks, he loves a paddle but won’t go out of his depth to fetch them. MD kept his distance from the water completely. Seems there are some things he’s not confident about.

Back home Son had arranged for a two-day long party to go on in our house whilst we were away. Whether this was planned to be one continuous event or two separate ones I’m not sure. When we returned home the damage wasn’t too severe, considering the amount of empty bottles and cans that were stacked up outside. As we arrive home, Son is actually out, seeing off the last few guests who have only just left. Must have been some weekend.