Over the Tamar to Devon

I'm writing this on Saturday night, in a bed and breakfast in Paignton, Devon. CleanSteve's lying on the bed watching Montalbano, and outside the funfair rages, competing against a cacophony of seagulls and a fusillade of fireworks.

This may just be the first in a series of blips of bodies of water. We have crossed the River Dart countless times now. But this, believe it or not, is the mighty Tamar, which borders Devon and Cornwall. I'd wanted to cross over Tamar bridge, completed 1961, which is a bit like the 1960s Severn Bridge, because it affords a good view of the railway bridge, designed by Isabard Kingdom Brunel. By the time it was completed, Brunel was a sick man, and had to be conveyed across the bridge in a vehicle, lying on his back. At least he saw it finished, for his own life ended shortly afterwards. I'd crossed the rail bridge once in the 1990s. Today, however, we were to be disappointed, for it was shrouded in wraps and scaffolding.

Still, we hopped out of the car and took what pictures we could, on the Devon side. The rain was rainy and the sky was grey. It seemed a good-enough day to be leaving Cornwall, for we couldn't have wished to be on the beach under a grey sky. Once on the outskirts of Plymouth, we headed inland to a small town near Modbury, which I blipped last August. We spent the night with Steve's old friends John and Prue, in their incredibly comfortable restored farmhouse. We even managed a sundowner in their vegetable garden. Prue has a cutting garden there too, with some unusual orange (not yellow!) sunflowers, but the macros I shot were a bit meh.

There was a problem with using the internet on our devices downstairs, so I never got round to blipping that evening.We made some tentative plans for Friday, which seemed highly complicated as they involved taking boats on the Dart, which is tidal. No one was sure as to whether the weather would be a little showery, or a total washout. You'll have to read on if you want to find out...