A trip to Devon

Our journey began bright and not too early on a Wednesday morning. We made it to Plymouth just in time for lunch, and headed to one of Jess' favourite restaurants. Ideally situated in Royal William Yard, we were immediately struck by that holiday feeling as we sat enjoying food and fruity mocktails in the sun.

As we explored further, we were reminded of the quayside in King's Lynn and at the same time the Old Royal Naval College in Greenwich; beautiful old brick buildings steeped in history.

Our exploration took us up a flight of steps and to Devil's Point where we were treated to a view along the land to more of Plymouth, its red and white striped lighthouse in the distance, across the water to Cornwall, and out to the sea beyond. More steps led us down to the water's edge, where we stayed a while, admiring how clear the water was.

Check-in and a food shop called, so we headed back the way we'd come to the car.

After an afternoon of escapism, Tesco and its masked shoppers was a bit of a bump back to reality, so we tried to be as efficient as we could and hurried back to our accommodation to pack a picnic for an evening on the beach.

Mothecombe Beach was only a short drive (and a slightly longer walk across a field and through woodland) away, so we arrived just in time to enjoy a sunset while we paddled and played in the sea. Only a few other small groups and couples were dotted along the sand, leaving us mad tourists to the cool evening water. It was the perfect spot to end our first day.

The wonders of Instagram had connected me with a couple of Devon-based accounts (and the lovely ladies behind them), so we were armed with an extensive list of recommendations to work through during our stay.

A day in Salcombe was the first of these recommendations, so with a view to being somewhere central, we aimed for the North Sands.

Not quite as keen as the watersport-ers already pitched up on the limited stretch of sand and rock in the bay, we were met with a full car park. Fortunately, an unmade track was only a little further away so it was here under the shade of trees that we parked up for the day.

Did a 'sweep browse' of the beach to establish that it was indeed too busy for us to find a socially distanced spot to sit, even for a little while.

Right on the sea front was another recommendation, this one of the food variety. The Winking Prawn was open, so this time we beat the crowds and grabbed a table for an early lunch and a spot of people watching. We won't dwell on the fact that I had to abandon the remnants of my crab sandwich and Sam her Po Boy when the wasps became rather too persistent.. It was another lovely spot, and really well organised in light of the current situation.

Only with a slightly quicker pace on account of the wasps, we set off up the road to spend some time in the main town. As we ascended, we were met with stunning views of the water below which could have been tropical from a distance, and admired beautifully planted gardens and ancient trees on either side of the road.

Painted footprints appeared on the pavement as we came into the town, leading us along a one-way system which in turn led us straight into an ice cream parlour. Quite a strange experience in a mask; I did go to lick the drips as my ice cream was passed to be over the counter, but fortunately registered just in time to avoid a sticky mess! Followed the road (and footprints) round and found a quiet spot overlooking the marina to enjoy our ice creams (luckily no wasps this time).

Legs well rested, we decided to venture a little further before walking back down to North Sands and beyond this time in the other direction.

The beach at South Sands felt a little more spacious, and there was lots of room on the sea wall so it was there that we set up camp for a while so that Jess and Sam could brave the sea again.

Suitably rested once more, we continued along the road to where the coast path became an actual path at Bolt Head. Yet more stunning views greeted us the further we climbed, this time against the green and grey of rugged rock face and not obstructed by any high garden walls.

Definitely somewhere I'd love to come back to, the temptation to just keep going was overwhelming, but eventually we tore ourselves away and made our way back to the car and in search what us Norfolk gals consider a 'proper beach' before home.

Bantham Beach was just what we needed and a very welcome spot after the trauma of fairly heavy traffic on the only single-track country lane leading down to it. We rested, paddled some more, and admired the beginnings of a sunset over Burgh Island in the distance (cue Ben Howard).

Tore ourselves away from the coast for a day and ventured into Dartmoor. First stop was Bellever Forest.

Slightly horrified by the crowds when we arrived, we soon discovered that it looked worse than it was and found ourselves the perfect picnic spot by the river with a clear view over to the other side. I've often been the only person, or part of the only group without a dog, but it was slightly amusing to find that here we were the only group without a child (or six).

Picnic stuffs packed back in the car, we headed off for one of the circular walks outlined on the map in the car park. It was only as we hit bog and no way to get around it that we realised we weren't following the map at all, and had instead taken a rather impressive detour.

Not deterred, we re-traced our steps back along the river where we'd had lots of fun on our detour hopping between stepping stones. We were soon back on the right track and did a simple circuit of the woodland which brought us back to the car ready for our second stop of the day.

Really, the clue should have been in the name, but as we approached Foggintor Quarry, we were surprised to be leaving heat and sunshine behind. Instead, it was all change into all of our layers as we set off on our next walk and into the mist..

Although we were joined on the footpath to the Quarry by quite a few others (all attired in a variety of ways from summer shorts and sandals to full-on hiking gear), we soon lost them as other footpaths became available for investigating and the mist descended, veiling us all in a thick shroud. I think the words 'atmospheric', 'dramatic', and 'eerie' were used. It was a fascinating landscape, and had we been braver we may have explored further but ultimately, I think we all felt the same 'rather them than me' towards campers at the base of the rocks.

Aygo, by Toyota, might have sponsored T4, but according to the mechanic who checked it over at the garage the following day, it's not meant for rally driving.. a funny smell put paid to our adventure for one day so after a hearty pub meal, we headed back to our apartment for dessert, bubbles, and a game of Kodama.

The final day of our trip began in the yoga garden where we were staying. An outdoor yoga class was just what we all needed, and we then floated back into Plymouth for one last day of exploration.

Fortunately, yoga had helped us work up an appetite, so we all demolished an early 'afternoon tea' of sweet treats, finger sandwiches and scones (the Devonshire way) washed down with several pots of tea.

From the Tudor Rose Tearooms, we walked along the seafront to Plymouth Hoe where we went down and up and down and up again, admiring beachy architecture and wishing we lived closer to the sea. Hung around the lighthouse a while waiting for crowds to disperse in hopes of the perfect photo op. Then from the lighthouse, we walked on past the lido and in search of a ferry to take us over the border and into Cornwall.

We'd spotted the Cremyll Ferry going back and forth on our first day in Plymouth and the Royal William Yard. Only £4 for a return trip, we decided it was a must for an afternoon adventure before fish and chips and the journey home.

8 minutes of getting blown about on the open deck was just as fun as it sounds! On the other side, we sat a while at the Edgcumbe Arms overlooking the water. Enjoyed our drinks and chuckled (quietly, and to ourselves, obviously) at fellow punters' trying to fend off young seagulls eager to sample some of whatever pub grub they had ordered..

With what little time we had left before the next ferry was due to depart, we walked through some of the gardens at Mount Edgcumbe House to Barn Pool Beach. Here, we tried (and failed) to remember how to skim stones.

Time almost up on our car parking, we just managed to squeeze in a fish and chip (and mushy pea) tea which we ended up eating in the car ready to put pedal to the metal at the first signs of a ticket inspector.

I know we would have all happily stayed another four days and then some. A few days in Devon was exactly what we all needed; the perfect balance of escapism, adventure, headspace, and fun. I can't wait to be back one day ♡

I've been 'out-out'..

Remember the days when going 'out-out' was heading to a club instead of the pub? Well, those days are long behind me (what a shame), and more recently I've found a new meaning for 'out-out'..

As lockdown measures have been easing, I've embraced the opportunity to venture a little further afield and to spend time with friends once again. At the end of June (I still have no idea where July went!?), myself and Sam had a proper 'day out', and it was then that I realised that 'out-out' had a new meaning. This wasn't just a visit to the local park, or a walk around the block, or to and from work, oh no. This was a visit to Chelsea Physic Garden, and the toilets were open (gosh, the excitement)!.. and the café and shop, but that was somehow less momentous.

I decided I still wasn't ready to brave public transport at this point, so I made the most of a walk along the Thames Path, and we met in my favourite part of Battersea Park, the Old English Garden. As I sat on a bench under the shelter of a tree (it was one of those days when the weather was rather dramatic, and although there was sunshine and some blue sky, there was also the occasional torrential downpour which would come as rather a surprise), I felt calm. I felt happy. I felt like I could take deep breaths and not be afraid to do so. As much as I like walking, I also like stopping. And being able to stop somewhere peaceful in the middle of what is otherwise a fairly busy park is definitely satisfying. There were a few other people meandering along the colourful beds busy with bees, and a few others dotted on other benches, but I definitely felt removed for a moment, and it was lovely.

Fortunately the rain stayed away long enough for us to enjoy lunch sitting by the lily pond, and as we enjoyed our tuna sandwiches (great minds), we were able to people watch and felt almost.. 'normal'?

From Battersea Park, Chelsea Physic Garden is only a short walk across Albert Bridge and along Cheyne Walk. I'd visited only once before - several years ago, and in February - so it was nice to be visiting again. We had a time slot, and there was sort of a one-way system in place, but it was so beautifully quiet that keeping a physical distance was easy enough, and we had a lovely afternoon weaving in and out of showers and sprinklers, under low-hanging branches and around exuberant foliage. The café was open for takeaway, so towards the end of our visit we ordered a tea and opted for a bench in the sun to enjoy it. It's in these moments that you realise it's the little things you don't even realise you've missed. Drinking a peppermint tea that was a brand other than Sainsbury's own was truly a treat! 

 

 

Rain having finally given up for the day, I walked back the way I'd come, and arrived home feeling as though I'd been on some kind of grand adventure.

Since then, I've had friends over for lunch, and have been back to one of my favourite spots in South West London; Fulham Palace Gardens. A mid-morning walk around the walled garden there followed by lunchtime treats from the Farmer's Market in Bishop's Park was again, the most 'normal' feeling Sunday I'd had in a while and it was glorious.

 

Only this week, I've had my first experience of travelling on public transport, and therefore of wearing a mask. It's funny how adaptable I am, really. I was full of anxiety the first day I was due to travel on the Tube, and yes, a mask is a 'steamy' experience (mmm, that upper lip sweat), but it's quickly become second nature to pop it on and whip it off again between shops / transport(s).

Very aware that everything could take a turn again, but that's why I'm all the more keen to live in the moment, and to make the most of the time we do have to do the things we love. Summer holidays are here, and I was full of fear that they'd be just a repeat of May half term, and the Easter holidays before that. But actually I'm hopeful that I may find adventure in the coming weeks, and a perhaps even a little more 'normality' along the way. 

Learning in Lockdown

Always a lover of learning, I feel like I've been doing even more of it in lockdown. Whether that's really the case, or whether it's just that I have more time to notice what I'm discovering, I'm not sure yet..


Still not happy to actually call what I've been doing for the last half term and a bit 'teaching', I keep finding myself putting it in inverted commas (just like that). It may not be what we're used to, and it may not be what any of us signed up to do, but it is a learning curve. As with anything, there have been many pros and cons of 'working from home' as a teacher. It's definitely not a job that lends itself to distance, but I like to think I've made the best of it. I'm learning a lot more about ways to adapt online learning to make it as accessible and interesting as possible. I'm learning more about the lives that my students lead when they're at home with their families through the long phone calls each week (definitely a highlight). I'm learning more about what it is that I love about teaching. Like many of my students, I'm all too ready to return to 'normal', but while I know that isn't possible, I'm learning to enjoy the different challenges that 'working from home' brings (so many inverted commas).


Many seem to be turning to nature more than ever as a source of comfort at this time. The introvert in me has mixed feelings about this; 'yes it's lovely that you're making the most of this park / this footpath / this woodland, but also, can there be less of you, please? This is usually my quiet spot.' But no, really, it is good that people are taking advantage of the natural spaces around them for their exercise of brain and body. With more time to spend paying attention to the nature on my doorstep, I've been learning a little more about it. I've been learning to identify birdsong. I've been learning to identify previously unknown plant species. I've been learning random facts a-plenty through a weekly nature quiz. With lockdown measures slowly lifting, my walks are getting longer but I still can't wait to be able to venture even further afield again for days of endless walking with nature. Either way, it has been lovely to spend a little more time with the plants in my hanging baskets and the swan family in the park.

Having once received 23% in a pre-GCSE art exam, I've never had great faith in my artistic talents. Like most teachers, any time I have to draw something as a model for my students, it's always preceded by 'now, obviously I'm not an artist' or 'remember, this isn't an art lesson'. But a lover of all things beautiful to look at, I've followed a few artists on Instagram for a while now, and one of my favourite methods of painting, it seems, is watercolour. I particularly love portraits of people or pets, as well as floral paintings and building illustrations. Inspired, and with more time spent at home, I decided to order a few bits to get me started, and since the end of April have spent several Sunday evenings painting. I've mostly been following tutorials, but last week I found the confidence to have a go at something of my own. I'm learning to be less of a perfectionist. I'm learning to listen to my own advice constantly given out to students that effort and enjoyment is what matters. I'm having fun.

As Nelly Furtado taught us in Try, 2003, 'the more I grow, the less I know' (she always did have such excellent lyrics). Certainly my favourite thing about learning is that it is endless. 'Back to school' tomorrow somehow feels like I'm entering Phase 2 of lockdown. Obviously I've got no idea what that means (if anything), but I'm sure there will be plenty more learning moments (both big and small) along the way.

Costa del Lockdown

Day one of working from home (whatever that looks like for a teacher; lots of online resource creating, emails and phonecalls to parents, and replying to students' sweet, strange and utterly bizarre comments on the stream of their Google Classroom), and having shut up shop an hour or so ago, I'm sat on the sofa with a bundle of cats at my feet while I finally read a few more chapters of the book I've been working on since the February half term. 

Suddenly, I'm overcome with a sense of waiting. Very much like that feeling of being at an airport before a flight. You're through security, and perhaps you've even made it as far as the gate. So now you're feeling relatively relaxed and, sitting quietly with something to pass the time, you await your boarding call.

And so the sense of waiting has continued. I started this post three and a half weeks ago and in some ways, a lot has happened since then. In others, nothing has. Since making the comparison to waiting at an airport, we've also decided that lockdown is a little like the longest caravan holiday you've ever been on (although, slightly confusingly, the weather's good!?), or, in the lighter moments, it's like the time spent sitting on the deck of a cruise ship on the sail between ports. 

With the coming of Spring, the Easter holiday is perhaps one of my favourites, and while this one was nothing like the others, and nothing like it was supposed to be, I've definitely made the best of it.

The first time I wrote this year, I shared my New Year's resolution: to slow down. Perhaps not entirely of my own volition, I'd say my resolution's been going rather well so far. While my body likes to remind me that yes, this whole situation is indeed making me very anxious, my mind has been pretty good at embracing a slower pace of life for two weeks in lockdown without any 'working from home' to keep me busy. 

Habit dictates that with beautiful weather comes days of aimless meandering, sometimes with a picnic lunch if I'm feeling really organised. Well aimless meandering has still been possible, but with the added challenge of getting out and home again in our allotted hour. I've enjoyed woodland, parks (although they make me unnecessarily nervous), riverside, and, most of all, random streets in and around my area that I've never had any reason before to walk along. I've particularly enjoyed  observing the gradual change of season; blossom abundant on trees now giving way to greenery, and all in glorious sunshine.

I've been reading. First, I finished the book mentioned above that I started so long ago but couldn't find the time to finish. Then I returned to comfort (of sorts) in a Morse which fortunately I'd bought in Waterstones on my way home one evening before everything started to shut down. Since finishing that, I've been reading Ant Middleton's Autobiography, which I'm finding fascinating. All have one thing in common; they offer a little escapism.

When I first started writing this, I had just had a massive cleanse of my social media (namely Instagram), and the first time I scrolled the morning after, I definitely noticed the difference. Ashamed to admit that with a lot of news, I take an 'ignorance is bliss' attitude, but as a massive hypochondriac, I've actually preferred in this situation to keep myself informed of the facts (where possible). 

What's been really bothering me over the past few weeks is the sudden appearance online of all these experts. People who I thought I was following because they've got an eye for interiors or inspire me with their travels are suddenly full of all the wisdom in the world about how I should be living my life. 

Creativity, especially, is such a personal thing. I'm creative. I'm a musician. I'm a teacher. I'm a writer (maybe that's a stretch).. I write. I take photographs. Naturally with so much time to hand, and with so much 'influence' online, I thought I'd have time for all of the above, and then some. But I haven't. I'm surprised by how quickly the days pass. I'm left wondering how I ever had time to fit everything in before, but I'm also allowing myself to be 'lazy'. I'm allowing myself not to be overly-productive. I'm allowing myself to spend that little bit longer sitting in a particular spot, or laying in bed, or just sticking with one activity before I move to the next. 

I am a little disappointed that I haven't played any of my instruments or sung properly for weeks, but it doesn't mean I've not been musical. I've been listening to music every single day, and thinking really carefully about what it is that I want to listen to. I've been doing a jigsaw puzzle. I've been playing a new board game. I've been cooking new dishes (no, I haven't baked any banana bread). I've been learning to identify bird song. I've been taking time to find out the names of the flowers I'm admiring on my walks and in the garden. I've done a little colouring. I've done some yoga; not lots, but some. 

I'm not really sure what the point of my post is today (is there ever one?), but I think it's mostly to remind anyone who might need reminding that we're all different, and that we choose to spend this time in the way that we wish. It's a strange time indeed, and difficult. But we can still make the best of it, however that may look for us. 

We could all learn a lot from Garnet.