A Dam Fine Afternoon

Ok, so Neil and our blogs will have a somewhat similar theme for a few days. With Neil 'on holiday' and ourselves emigrating, we are trying to get to see the best bits of our local area before we go our separate ways.

Any of you who read Neil's blog regularly may have already seen his pics of our afternoon out today. We decided on Avon Dam mainly because Tesco was on the way home and that the path is tarmac and would be dry (for the most part). We haven't been for a few years so it was nice to re-acquaint ourselves with this hidden Dartmoor gem.

We also didn't remember the walk being as long as it was either! However, this was the first day of summer weather for quite some time (although shorts were not quite the order of the day), and the walk was worth it. The river was crashing with intent down the wooded valley as we walked up the meandering path towards the dam. When we approached the dam, the noise of the river was somewhat drowned out by the sound of a full reservoir overspilling down a giant concrete staircase. As you passed the dam the noise disappeared and you were left with a tranquil view of the lake itself, and the barren yellow-green Dartmoor slopes behind.



We wandered on to the brook halfway along the east side and sat in the warm sunshine, watching the fluffy clouds pass overhead and listen to the gentle trickle of the brook. Aaaaah Devon. It did resemble a little of a few Alpine walks in places too, with the open moor and streams, which was a nice reminder of our new life to come!

The Marriage of Stephen White and Cheryl Bewick

Today, our sister, Cheryl, married her long-time fiancé, Steve, in a wonderful ceremony at Higher St Budeaux Parish Church. This was followed by a fantastic reception in their local pub where a good time was had by all. These are the 'family album' photos I took in my capacity as one of the official photographers.




More are available to view on my friends on Facebook, and there's commentary and some more great photos on Neil's blog.

An Ode to Plymouth - Part 1 Plymouth Hoe

Its July 25th - the height of summer however I'm sat here looking out of my lounge window towards the sea (which is only 2km away) but is completely invisible behind cloud. Its cold, the wind is blowing a hooligan and its chucking it down. Oh I am so glad I took extra time off to enjoy the summer a bit before moving away. Neil - you may wanna turn around and go back to Australia now - your winters are better than this.

Moan moan moan. So despite its tired facade, its over-population of chavs (and subsequently, pushchairs) and perennial dodgy weather, Plymouth does have some good bits. I will try and capture as much as possible before we leave for Switzerland and give the old city a good send off.

So on a comparatively sunny day a week ago, we decided on a walk into town for ice cream (oh such a carefree life). We decided on Thorntons (what great value for money too) and the Rhubarb Crumble and Chocolate heaven flavours did not disappoint. The fudge sticks rock too. I do hope Geneva ice cream is at least as good as that. The local bird life, in particular the seagulls (shitehawks if you prefer) took a bit of interest too. I must give them a mention as they do dominate the town and the shore a bit however compared with some places they are not as aggressive - it must be the relaxing Devon lifestyle and the abundance of food (namely at chelson meadow tip).

Afterwards we strolled up to the Hoe, Plymouth's iconic and probably only defining feature and started snapping away. It is always a breath of fresh air (sometimes quite literally) to spend a moment on the Hoe with its open expanse and great 360 degree views of Plymouth Sound and the sea beyond, Cornwall, Staddon Heights, Mount Batten and even Dartmoor.
There is always something going on, whether its boats in the sound or events on the Hoe itself which will distract your attention and let you forget about your day to day worries (if you have any that is!).

Véro remembers the first time she went there, not having seen the sea (other than Dover ferry crossings) for many years and she said it blew her away. Being a local I have always kind of taken it for granted but through the eye of a lens you can see why it draws such reactions from visitors.

My earliest memory of the hoe was West Hoe Park and in particular the 'bunny trains'. My Auntie brought me up there when she used to look after me as a toddler/pre-schooler and would always let me ride the trains. That was in the mid-70s and they are still there now. The rabbits may have changed but it is still as popular as ever. I must have a go before I leave - I must borrow Beth and use her as an excuse to get on.

The most iconic feature is Smeatons Tower (or the 'light-owse on the 'oe') - it is really quite photogenic with the red and white stripes sat on a emerald green grass (always green - trust me its all the rain) set against a deep blue backdrop (on about 6 days a year when the sun is out). I did climb it once - maybe something to be done again soon.




There are other statues and memorials, as well as the Drake's (so-called) bowling green and the old citadel which give the Hoe a quite eclectic but deeply historical feel. There's also Tinside pool - refurbished recently but still retaining its 'classic' look. Now I don't remember having ever tried the pool - for most of the summer when it is open only the brave and foolish will try and swim in there. Everyone else mainly looks at it from above saying 'look at those idiots - you'll never catch me in there'. Unless starting tomorrow we have 3 weeks of heatwave and it is sufficiently warm enough to dip my toe, I do not think I will ever have the pleasure. I blame global drowning, sorry, warming.




There's always plenty of eating options too with a variety of ice cream to be had. The best has to be the raspberry and clotted cream sundaes.I had one yesterday and it was delicious. Oh we are back to food again - boy do I have a one track mind....must be lunchtime soon.

Le Tour de France 2007

After a hiatus of an hour you knew things were approaching - the TV helicopter was hovering gradually closer up the forested climb. Suddenly there was a burst of action. Team cars came speeding through then there were numerous biker cops followed by a car telling everyone to get out of the way as the Tour was about to arrive, and also that the peleton had been split by the climb. Everyone dropped their baguettes and jumped to their feet, grabbing their cameras and giant green hands.

Two riders were off the front, one of whom is the current (as I write this) race leader, Michael Rasmussen. He is a climber and, as ever, is after the King of the Mountains prize so it was no surprise he was out front trying to win climbing points.

Then followed a few smaller groups containing the incumbent King of the Mountains leader, Sylvain Chavanel (in the white and red polka dot jersey) and Fabian Cancellara who had been in yellow all week but this would prove to be his last day in the lead.



The groups gradually got bigger an bigger and it was all blur of colour and noise, interspersed with endless bikes and cars with officials, teams media etc. I must admit did not really take it all in. The groups came through at speed and the camera fired off shot after shot after shot. It was over and they all disappeared over the summit within a couple of minutes or so.



Only afterwards was I able to review the action through the countless photos I had taken on burst mode and pick out who had gone through. It was a tough job taking photos of something moving so fast and I didn't do a great job, however I was pleased with my first go.

The walk back to the car was bizarre - joining hoards of people walking up the middle of normally main road. Then suddenly everyone was gone and people were replaced by cars and motor homes. On the descent back down it was almost as if the Tour never came through - there was still a bit of a party going on one of the bends (well it was Bastille Day) and that crazy crane was still there. We were able to take in some of the scenery too proving why the Tour de France has the best stadium in the world!

It was an amazing experience for someone who avidly watches the Tour each year on TV, as much for the love of France as for the sport. The atmosphere and buzz was unique - something that you will not find anywhere else on earth. They love the Tour here - and so they should.

Caravane d'Amour

So much for a Saturday morning lie in. After the party in Trept the night before we had not had that much sleep however we had to get up early - we just had to. The reasons - one it was July 14th, Bastille Day and being the French national day lying in bed would just be an insult to those who fought gallantly to overthrow the monarchy and create the republic. Secondly the Tour de France was coming our way...

Well I say our way - we had a hour's drive to reach the foot of the Cote de Corlier, near Bourg-en-Bresse, one of the small climbs the riders were going to undertake en route to the Alps that day. We thought we would get there early to get a good spot and also take in the atmosphere - the riders were not due to come through until about 1pm. We arrived in the first part of the route at about 9.45am in St Jean-le-Vieux to be greeted by an old guy pedalling a static bike waving a baguette at every car that drove past and people already having emplaced their deck chairs in prime positions on every corner of this pretty village. There were gendarme everywhere too.

Luckily the route was still open to traffic and we could climb the Cote de Corlier to get a vantage point near the top of the climb - good job too as there was hardly any parking spots left going up. It was a slow climb too as we passed dozens of amateur pedallers trying to emulate their heroes by climbing up the hill. We also passed a very bizarre roadside decoration consisting of a crane and dozens of old bikes suspended mid-air. Les Francais huh.

We found a spot in side lane near the village of Corlier and then had to trek a kilometre back to the summit. We took our place about 100m short of the summit just around a bend and prepared for the arrival of the Caravane.

The Caravane is a procession of publicity like you have never seen before (unless you have seen it before). I have seen processions before but never at 40 mph. Dozens of companies use the Tour to publicise or promote their products by creating the most obscure floats and randomly throwing promotional material at the people on the sides of the road.



There were about 40 different 'advertisers' in everything from giant dustbins to mobile Laughing Cow cheese boxes. Where we were just after a bend added to the hilarity as we could not see what was coming too.



As for the presents, well we got a few including my favourite, a pair of giant green hands (as modelled by Véro) that I have seen on the TV over the years of watching the Tour. Some were passed out, others were launched at some speed and I was at one point smacked in the gut by a SeaFrance pen - so that's how they thank me for their custom.



There were others too we missed out on, including inflatables, hats and other cheesy memorabilia I would have loved to get my hands on even if I would throw it away later. Once the mayhem had passed we had about an hour to wait for the riders during which the tension rose whilst everyone quietly tucked into their baguettes wondering what would happen on this tricky hill....