A Few Days By The Sea

Dartmouth, Devon

Dartmouth, Devon

Dartmouth, Devon

Dartmouth, Devon

I need to unpack. I need to load the washing machine. I need to go for a run. I need to do a lot of things.

But, nope, procrastinating by talking to myself as per usual – that and watching The Handmaid’s Tale which may be the most stressful TV show of all time.

G and I spent the past few days in Dartmouth, Devon. My parents have a little flat there so obviously we take advantage of this where possible. We always seem to do this in June, the weather is always decidedly mixed and we always come away saying we really should go for longer next time.

We’re familiar with the place so there was no pre-trip planning or preparations. We barely even packed accordingly; just threw some clothes in a bag and hopped in the car. I’d say the journey was stress-free but I’m never stress-free when I have to drive and there was plenty of traffic jams. But then we were there, sat on a roof terrace looking across the River Dart and everything was pretty darn swell.

Dartmouth, Devon

Dartmouth, Devon

Dartmouth, Devon

Dartmouth, Devon
These days, in the world of us travel-bugs anyway, you’re meant to explore as many places as possible. I am so guilty of maximising out my annual leave to squeeze in all the new adventures but as we lazed away the days in Dartmouth, I just kept thinking that there really is something about returning somewhere, becoming familiar with a place far from home.

What did we do? Well, we had one morning where the weather was particularly glorious; we sat in beach chairs on Blackpool Sands beach and I marvelled, as I do every time, at how it could be right in the middle of the Mediterranean.  The weather went off a bit that afternoon but we pulled on our waterproofs and went for a walk up to the castle, had an ice cream on the way and then sat on a rock on Sugary Cove for ages; just enjoying the peace. This was interrupted by a couple of dogs and owner arriving. There was one that had a ridiculous amount of energy and was constantly running up and down chasing rocks – the owner told us that she was half border collie and half chihuahua (?!). The other was half german shepherd and half huskie; he’d been a stray in Bulgaria and they’d adopted him whilst holidaying out there. He had the most poufy tail which made me laugh every couple of minutes. Honestly, we could have watched those dogs run around for hours.

Dartmouth, Devon

Dartmouth, Devon

Dartmouth, Devon

 Otherwise, we mostly ate. And we ate well. A gorgeous Sunday roast at Bayard’s Cove Inn, the tastiest vegan fry up at Blackpool Sands cafĂ©, cinnamon toast & banana milkshakes at Alf’s, cream teas at Beth’s – Dartmouth is a foodie’s paradise.

And a pub-lovers paradise also. The Dartmouth Arms gives you plastic cups and lets you take drinks out onto the front where you can sit right next to the water and admire those gorgeous pastel houses as the sun sets. We also really like The Floating Bridge, a fact emphasised by the – count them – 12 separate card transactions made there in the past 4 days.  They have a gorgeous little roof terrace where we like to watch the mini car ferry go back and forth, as well as a crackin’ menu. They’re famous for their fish and chips but the rest of the menu is also spot on (goat’s cheese linguine and firecracker burger are both good’uns).

We moved between cafes and pubs, beaches and benches along the waterfront, and the quiet of the flat where we read, watched dvds with an indoor picnic and wrote – well I wrote, G watched the sport scores. Each to their own.

It was all really good for the soul and, as much as I love home, I was very reluctant to leave.

Dartmouth, Devon

Dartmouth, Devon

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