Day Three: Plymouth to Ashburton

After our steamy push forward yesterday we were all feeling a little tired today and decided that the best thing to do was to have a lie in, it is a Sunday after all.  We started the day with tea and toast provided by the lovely Lauralay (a good friend of mine) then ventured slowly out into the grey windy wet day.

First stop was Berol the tour bus, we took in the sights of Plymouth from the comfy dry seats and learnt that Arthur Conan Doyle (author of Sherlock Holmes) lived in Plymouth, briefly, very briefly, before falling out with his school friend and moving to Portsmouth.  We also learnt that Charlie Chaplin and Laurel and Hardy performed at the Palace theatre before it was run into the ground by a night club owner; now its got trees growing out of the roof and is falling into disrepair,  it’s really sad that such a beautiful building is so unloved.

The owners of Beryl the bus kindly offered to take us to a roundabout north of Plymouth so we could hitch hike to our next destination. We arrived at a supermarket and scribbled the name ‘Ashburton’ on an unwanted cardboard box and stood at the exit of the supermarket. Kristy and Hannah did the thumbs whilst I munched down a sandwich, I’d just finished the last mouth full when Jason wound down his window and asked is Ashburton near Exeter? Yes Jason, Yes it is. And in we got.

Jason dropped us off right outside a pub in Ashburton, we had a game of darts (which I won) and waited for Sara, a story teller who had seen our project online & offered to give us a bed and a meal for the night.  Sara is a wonderful lady she fed us and told us an old story about the river which joins Cornwall and Devon, the river Tamar. Sara started to tell us another story, a folklore story set in the deep dark Devonshire moors, a story about Jan Coo then she stopped. She said it just didn’t feel quite right, this was enough to get me,  if I can’t have something I want it. Eventually after some gentle persuasion Sara returned to the story of Jan Coo and the stormy moors. I shall sleep extremely well tonight, thankful of a bed for the night in a safe warm house rather than a cold scary night on the loud windy moorland of Dartmoor.

Ria.

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