Thursday 9 June 2016

9 June 2016 - Tavistock Club Site, Moorshop, near Tavistock, Devon



If you have been following these posts from one day to the other, you might have been holding your breathe for the outcome of our mechanical woes. Alas you would have been disappointed for the lack of drama. The matter is resolved, or at least in theory.

We set the alarm this morning to make sure we were organised for a day’s absence and at Richard Walke’s workshop on or before 8.30. (The fact that I have actually named this commercial enterprise serves to suggest we were happy with their service). The Chief-Wallah suggested we return in a couple of hours, so we headed up into the centre of Tavistock on foot, along the banks of the River Tavy, and into the centre, emerging near the Guildhall and entering the Pannier Market. While there were a few stalls selling fresh fruit and vegetables, today’s market was all about “crafts and mixed market”. 

We poured through a wonderful stall full of good second hand books, looking particularly for books on English trees and wildflowers. Animated conversation regarding the ease of identifying sighted samples in any of the many publications on offer ended in a decision that this was all too hard, and should be left for another day. Instead I purchased four new jacket buttons from one of the many haberdashery type outlets in the town. We wandered up one of the main streets and found an excellent hardware and homeware store where we found a Victorinex paring knife like one we have back home and a replacement for the perished rubber mat in our circular caravan sink.

There we had an interesting conversation with the sales assistant, after requesting the “Thursday over-60s 10% discount”. Apart from identifying us as over 60, she had to identify that we were over 18 because we were purchasing a knife. Apparently you have to be over the age of eighteen to purchase knives and glue. I further quizzed her when she placed our purchases in a plastic bag, knowing that stores are not allowed to “package” their sales in plastic bags without charging for the bag. Apparently shops with employees numbering under a certain level can do so, however it has been our experience that they operate the same way as larger businesses. But, it is a requirement that knives and plants must be sold with wrapping or a shopping bag. Hence we left with a “free” retail plastic bag and amusement about the complex rules for retail outlets. 

Tavistock is a World Heritage Site and is the 1542 birth place of one of England’s greatest heroes, Sir Francis Drake. The town is the largest in west Devon and grew up around the Benedictine abbey founded in 974. In 1281, Tavistock became a stannary town, the administrative centre for the tin mining industry based in Dartmoor. It also developed into a prosperous woollen centre. 

From the 1790s until 1901, when the seams were exhausted, some of the largest copper mines in the world were worked just outside the town. Those copper deposits were discovered in 1844, hence the main town owes its distinctive Victorian appearance to the building boom that followed. Today Tavistock is an agricultural town, market centre and touring centre for Dartmoor. Our reference materials also report that the River Tavy which flows through the town, is one of England’s fastest flowing rivers. 

Tavistock's River Tavy
The town is lovely to walk around, although nothing defies the above description. I was looking for a cheap haircut, having seen prices elsewhere for a simple off the street job for just under £10, but here there is a hairdressing cartel; most were £15 and some nearer £20. I will have to remain a bit scruffy for now, although there will come a time, sometime soon, that I will be happy to pay whatever is asked. A woman is like that with her hair.

By the time we walked back to the garage, we had been away for two and a half hours. The mechanic on the job had headed off to buy a new fuel filter, and soon returned to tell us this was his diagnosis. The fuel filter in the car was “a bit rusty” and was probably the cause of the stalling. He had been on the phone to the Kia dealers so was not entirely speaking off the cuff. After another hour catching up on Hollywood and other like fluffery published in women’s magazines, we were presented with the key and the bill, which we duly settled. We were free to leave.

We headed back to camp, neither of us entirely happy that the solution necessarily met the problem, however we travelled without event. After lunch we headed off again, this time to Peter Tavy, which has one of the two nearest eating establishments recommended by camp management. We took the access road from near our camp, an extremely narrow, high hedged road, a road so vehicle-unfriendly that we had to reverse for some distance three times before we reached our destination about three miles away. Neither of us considered this an easy-access dining spot for  next week when we will celebrate The Driver’s birthday. We were relieved to escape onto the main thoroughfare between Tavistock and Okehampton, that travelled yesterday.

We headed the five or so miles north, before turning off into Lydford, and on to the Lydford Gorge,  situated in the Lyd valley, on the edge of Dartmoor. The river has carved away the underlying rock into a uniquely steep sided gorge as it plunges then gently meanders down the valley. The land acquired by the Trust now covers an area of approximately 132 acres. The gorge is a mainly deciduous oak wooded valley with towering rock faces and fast flowing river sections, home to a wealth of wildlife species including some rare species of plant and animals.

The River Lyd: a more gentle section
We set off from the main entrance at the western end, upriver, and walked along the top edge of the gorge, within the sound of bleating sheep on adjacent fields. This part of the track is fairly easy, a few ups and downs, punctuated with interpretative panels telling us about primroses, Herb Robert and several other threatened species of wild flowers. Arriving at the eastern end, we could hear the rush of water, and assumed we had arrived at the White Lady Waterfall. We had arrived at the very top of the River Burn, and it was not until we descended steeply into the gorge on the shorter track, rather than the more gentle longer route, to where this stream converges with the River Lyd, that we found the falls. The River Burn falls in two long narrow cascades after a series of smaller ones. It is indeed very pretty, and the scene at the bottom could well satisfy the traveller. In fact it did for many who came here as part of the alternative “Grand Tour” when the Napoleonic wars made a European version in the early 19th century  less than safe. Perhaps modern terrorism has brought a repeat of history these days?


In 1865 “Lidford” (renamed “Lydford” in 1897) station was opened, and by 1874 trains were travelling direct from London Waterloo, until 1968 when the line closed. The train made Lydford a popular Victorian day trip with a tea room and the White Lady Waterfall being the main attraction. 
But this is very tame in comparison to the wonderful walk back up the south side of the River Lyd, the paths rocky, and only for the sure footed. The scenery is absolutely splendid and this was the crown in the jewel as far as we were concerned. At the top of the regular walk is an area called the Devil’s Cauldron, and here the water has cut through the rock so forcefully, the paths and viewing platforms are precariously situated out over the bubbling waters. There are emergency posts along the entire walk, however if someone was to fall into the ravine, there would be little call for any rescue.

We saw many small trout, swooping and twerking grey wagtail birds, blackbirds, thrushes, to name but a few of the marvellous wildlife along the three and a half miles path. We both agreed that this was a thoroughly wonderful walk, but we were now ready to put our feet up, we would have to miss the castle.

Heading home, we detoured to the Morrison’s superstore on the south side of Tavistock, filled with diesel at the superstore fuel depot and returned home to relax and plan our itinerary for the next day, taking into account the weather forecast. The Sorrento was still behaving; we would look forward positively toward further touring.

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