We came back yesterday from a lovely (yes, LOVELY) long weekend in Dartmouth- which is a town in Devon. On the southwestern peninsula-like part of England. I don’t know what Devon is. I am too lazy to research on line whether they are called counties, shires, councils, boroughs, what have you. I do know that saying “we’re headed down to Devon this weekend” or “we’re off to our house in Cornwall” is best said with a very fine English accent and the realization that soon you will be taking in the bracing salt air of the English seaside. I like that it’s the “seaside”. Or the coast. In the U.S. we say the beach which just cheapens it, no? We should all instead grab a parasol and a swimming costume and head to the s e a s i d e.
Dartmouth is on the River Dart and is home to the Britannia Royal Naval College. It is a gorgeous place with homes on hillsides and a very preppy, nautical feel that New England stole. The jerks. But it’s why I wore all my stripey things. To fit in.
It was very good practice for us to travel with a baby. And two five-hour car trips. We packed 5 times as much as we usually do and it was the perfect amount. The towns don’t really allow for easy car travel so we had the stroller/pushchair all over, up and down the cobblestone streets, in the rain and in the restaurants- with a side of Shiraz. I am sure I am pushing my luck, but this little man, my man, lets momma and poppa do their thang. And he got to go on a boat for the first time as a reward. Which he slept through.
A room with a view, and a new baby-centered world for us
“The English Riviera” even has palm trees!
why a naked woman and the Hamburglar go together on a children’s amusement ride is well beyond my simple worldview
I love restaurant pics almost as much as food pics. Here is my gazpacho at one place, served in a beaker with a straw. Here is the Dartmouth Apprentice, in a renovated church, which sort of took my breath away. And it turns out it‘s good for humanity too.
Grammar mistakes are fun to find while traveling. Well, for me.