Limitless possibilities and the greatest toy on Earth

Cor, what a week it has been!  We decided to go on a whistle-stop tour of Europe, starting in our own capital, London.  Tower Bridge, Big Ben, Piccadilly Circus... we saw them all, and even managed to watch the Trooping of the Colour in the company of the Royal Family!  There was also an unexpected journey to the old Wembley Stadium, its twin towers still standing proud outside the Home of Football.

Leaving London, we had a quick look at Stonehenge, made our way to a Shakespeare production at the Minack Theatre in Cornwall, before heading up country, where the iconically rusty Angel of the North pointed the way to Newcastle.  Further north, across the border and into Scotland, we took in some Highland dancing at Blair Castle, and marvelled at the wonder that is Edinburgh Castle.

Not satisfied with our British adventure, we thought we'd hop across the water and see what was occurring in Europe.  Paris was looking splendid, especially the beautiful Sacre Coeur, and we were delighted to visit a traditional Tuscan village market, before heading into the wilds of Scandinavia, where pretty little churches poked up from alpine tundra, and Abba were giving an impromptu concert.  In Holland, meanwhile, the canals were busy as usual, whilst the architecture in Belgium remains simply stunning.

Of course, Lizzie and I haven't been jet-setting at all!  Instead, we took the 08:03 to Windsor and Eton Riverside, and hopped on the shuttle bus to Legoland Windsor, Britain's home of Lego.  Miniland, which is only one part of this excellent park, contains a staggering number of world-famous buildings from cities across Europe and North America.  What I love best about it is the attention to detail - two new parents with a pram outside Buckingham Palace, the Chancellor emerging from Downing Street with a red briefcase, a group of black-and-white-striped footballers loitering under the Angel of the North - a proper examination of the place would take almost as many hours as it took to build in the first place.

Aside from the brilliant models of Miniland, we also met Vikings and Pirates on the park's splash-tastic water rides, took a submarine journey to see real ocean fish, enjoyed an oriental steam train ride, saw incredibly realistic big game animals, explored a medieval castle, and went on a dinosaur safari.  What more could you ask for in one day out?

Lego will always hold a very special place in my heart; it was virtually the only toy I played with as a child, and I collected, built, designed, and absolutely loved it for years.  In tough times, it cheered me up and gave me an escape, whether it was a castle, a pirate ship, a police station... For a child with an imagination, there was no end.  In my more mature years, I may no longer have all the sets (well, I've clung on to one or two), but I've always kept a very close eye on this wonderful plastic toy company, to see where they take themselves next.  And judging by what I've seen, there's another generation of children growing up with their heads full of wonder at the limitless possibilities that this toy provides.  No wonder there were so many happy faces leaving the park's shop at the end of the day; I think I may have indulged a little too:

 

Thanks Lego, for one great day out, and for years of enjoyment!

Steam in the glasshouse, steam on the rails - It's 'otter along the Dart!

If you take a ten minute drive down the A38 from Teigngrace, you might just end up in a little town called Buckfastleigh.  At first glance, there isn’t much to keep the traveller in the little town for too long, but if you look again, you might just uncover a wonderful little world of intrigue, interest and conservation.

We roll up in my trusty little Toyota to what at first glance appears to be a fairground.  What is going on in this usually sleepy little corner of the county?  We find a space in the overflow carpark (courtesy of the traffic-controlling cadets) and make quietly for the otter sanctuary, a source of much delight for Lizzie and I in the past.  Inside, the spacious pens of Buckfastleigh’s well-loved otters lie in wonderfully natural conditions.  The otters, in one way or another, are all rescue creatures that, for various reasons, the sanctuary has been unable to release back into the wild.  One was a baby, swept away from its holt during the recent floods; another was unfortunately stuck in the waterwheel near Morrison’s supermarket in Totnes, and was injured.  Our arrival has coincided with the morning feed, so we are treated to a good talk from the expert keeper, who takes us from the Asian short-clawed to the North American, ending with our lovely native species.

Funnily enough, otters are not the only thing to be found at Buckfastleigh's Otter Sanctuary.  Inside the large glasshouse, cheerfully flapping in the heat and humidity, myriad perfectly formed butterflies flit from leaf to leaf, fruit to fruit.  Being careful not to step on any is quite a challenge, for they do seem to land anywhere and everywhere, including on your clothes, hair, and bag.  Through the middle of the glasshouse lies a pond, so we are also treated to enormous koi carp and sleepy terrapins, who cling to the edge of the water and bask in the heat, occasionally losing their grip and plopping straight in, with some comedy.  So hot is the glasshouse, my camera steams up almost as soon as we enter, hence the slightly hazy nature of the photos.

Back outside, and it turns out we have arrived – quite accidentally – in the middle of a vintage transport festival, enthusiasts out in full force to show off their perfectly-kept cars, or to photograph the shiny steam engines.  Following our visit to the otters, our destination is Totnes, which we intend to get to by the magical form of old steam train.  Our engine pulls into the intriguing little station – more a labour of love, of course, than anything that would function effectively nowadays (unless you’re from the Westcountry, then you may eye Buckfastleigh station with envy when compared to our unkempt and ramshackle modern mainline stops) – and we hop aboard, happily settling into our compartment, reminiscent of Agatha Christie’s murderous night on that famous Orient Express.  Talk about a timely service, within minutes we are chugging through River Dart country, rocking gently, enjoying the rural scenery pass us by at a more-than-acceptable relaxing speed.  I really like these old trains, their comfortable furnishing, their wood panels and doorframes, a glance around revealing not one hint of plastic in the entire carriage.

The ride to Totnes – which is the end of the line – takes not half an hour, and involves a stop at Staverton, from which many excited train spotters – all with massive cameras – can be seen.  When we alight at Totnes Littlehempston (yes, Totnes technically has two railway stations!), there is commotion aplenty, and you would be forgiven for thinking the 11.24 for London Paddington had just turned up.  It’s a heady mix of train spotters, locals and tourists on day trips, guards, luggage porters, even a man with an owl on his arm (a keeper from the nearby rare breeds farm) who has come to show the owl to the tourists, or perhaps the tourists to the owl, and to drum up some support for the farm, which lies just beyond the station.

And what a lovely little farm it is too!  We are given a free bag of animal feed on arrival, and Lizzie wastes no time letting the animals tuck in.  Around the site, we are treated to owls, goats, donkeys, alpacas, sheep, ducks, pigs, geese, hedgehogs, squirrels, guinea pigs, bantams, all manner of small and unusual creatures from the rarer gene pools of the world.  Even the most tiny of creatures had not been forgotten – indoors there are tiny harvest mice, whose nests stretch deep down inside glass-fronted cabinets, dotted with the occasional seed, and looking like the perfect winter retreat.

Rare breeds enjoyed, the food long gone, we stroll back to the station for the exciting return journey up the Dart valley.  Back at Buckfastleigh, there’s just enough time left to browse the railway museum, take in the classic cars, and spend a while watching my most favourite object of the moment, this beautiful carnival organ, which encapsulates a spirit of fun, humour and innocence that I thought was all-but-lost from this world.  It's an absolutely magical object to end an absolutely magical day, so why not play the video and enjoy the tunes yourself?

To see all the photos from our lovely day out along the Dart, click here

Summer's Fond Farewell

September is here, conjuring up images of blackberry picking, falling leaves, and fond farewells to our feathery summer visitors.  The tourists will soon begin to leave, the sun's rays will be less powerful, the weather will slowly turn and, in only three weeks the night will be longer than the day.  I always find a distinctive atmosphere in autumn; it's melancholy, a time to plan and prepare for the cold winter ahead, and to reflect on the beautiful summer now passed.  

Our summer this year has really been focussed on home, exploring the best that the area has to offer under almost perpetually sunny skies.  It should come as no great surprise, then, that our final outing of August took us to Daddyhole Plain in Torquay, to watch the RAF's fantastic Red Arrows.

Now, a red arrow pilot was just about the first thing I wanted to be when I was small, and I remember having a collection of pictures, stickers and books all about the aerobatic team.  Many times in my childhood I had been taken down to Torbay (and occasionally Dawlish) to watch this thrilling spectacle, which never got boring or dulled in my mind.  Even this week, seeing the performance for the first time in four or five years, I could feel those childhood pangs of excitement bubbling inside me.  For Lizzie, meanwhile, this was her first real Red Arrow experience, and one that I'm pretty sure she was impressed by, as the jets looped over the bay, flying upside-down,  both over our heads and beneath us as we stood on the edge of our promontory and strained for a sight of the aeroplanes, flitting in and out of view from every direction.  What a show, well up to the usual standard and every bit as good as I always remembered.

So, in a final burst of exhilaration and energy, the Red Arrows have provided the final showpiece of the season, and it feels as though the curtain has come down on the summer.  Keats' Season of mist and mellow fruitfulness is ready to begin, but we move on with the memory of the most fantastic summer, a real celebration of life in our green and pleasant corner of the country.  I can't wait to see what autumn brings!