Sunday 29 November 2009

West Country Diary - Part 3

When I was at school, the first book we 'did' in English lessons Was Treasure Island. Now I think that book has West Country connections. I've always assumed all that Shenanigans with Bild Pew happening in some Devonian Inn next to a cove - I'd better reread it sometime to check out the accuracy of my very fuzzy recollection

Anyway it was not to investigate that book, but the second 'class book'. What I remember about the book is as follows - Note, the list does not include the title
1) My mother loved the book
2) I didn't, it seemed very long and tedious - but was quite short (I think)
3) It was about a real life incident when the residents of Lynmouth had to drag their lifeboat a long way to get it launched.
4) Though I didnt enjoy the book at age 11 I did develop an ambition to visit the place.

It was with some trepedation that I set my car in that direction, because a previous study of the map had me worried that the hills round about would be jolly steep and my car would struggle to make it.

My concern was misplaced..... it was the hill out of Porlock that I should have been worrying about, which i seriously misconcrued as a 2nd gear slope and very nearly conked out half way up. By comparrison the slope down the Lynmouth was a doddle, almost an anti-climax, which was was a mood that kind of carried over to my exploration of the Twin Towns.. as i'm sure they'd be called in the US of A. There didn't seem to be much to Lynmouth, but i didn't really explaore in the hour I had before sundown (and driving back down Porlock hill in the dark didn't appeal). I did take the walk up the hill to Lynton - unsurprisingly, out of season, he Hydarulic Cliff railway was not running, to perhaps the most curiously situated town in the land. Lynton sits on a curved ledge half way up a cliff. On a chilly november afternoon it wasn't buzzing, wo or three groups of unhurried late season tourists and just a snese of locals around, somewhere. On the walk back down I passed a large group of teenagers, French by the sound of them.

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