One thing I've noticed while on holiday here in Devon is that the locals seem to have a problem with scale. Large houses in idyllic settings are called this-and-that 'Cottage'; much smaller houses in the same type of settings are invariably called this-and-that 'Grange'.
Found a gorgeous cove yesterday, reached, according to a sign, by 200 steps in the cliff. The sign lied, it was 248 steps and some steep walking. The steps put off a lot of people, so it's generally deserted. The only other people there yesterday came in by RIB.
We actually managed to get some kayaking in yesterday - the main reason we came down here in the fist place.
Off back home today.
I was speaking to the lady who owned a Devon cream tea emporium on Wednesday and the conversation got around to the referendum. I asked how she will vote and she said; "Out - I don't want to be dictated to by the EU as to how many chips I can put on a plate." That encapsulated the referendum - it has been all about ill-informed perception, rather than reality. Boris is now going to have to reap what he sowed and sort out the mess. He's will be remembered as either one of the greatest Prime Ministers, or the most reviled and the one who oversaw the breakup of the Union. I fear it will be the latter.
4 comments:
The Great Devonian Debate used to be whether you put the cream on the jam or the jam on the cream.
I didn't wish to open more sores than one on that occasion.
During the time that I lived in Devon great consternation was caused. When I insisted of applying butter to my scone (in Somerset style) followed by strawberry jam with a girt dollop of clotted cream on top.
You could tell what oiks we were as brother and I used to argue who should lick the spoons from the jam or cream at the end.
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