Shaldon

One of our days in Devon was dedicated to Shaldon and Teignmouth, starting at the southern car park of the latter place, handy for the heritage ferry across to Shaldon. The 'P' above the word 'Ferry' in the snap above.

But we kicked off at Buckfast where, just before the entrance to the heritage part of the abbey, I came across this mill leat, or perhaps just a drain, not visible on either gmaps or Ordnance Survey, although the Survey no doubt have larger scale maps than they make available to me, on which it might well be visible. In any event, nothing like as picturesque as the heritage mill wheel, snapped at reference 1.

Got to our car park and headed down to the ferry, with one of the two available being in business. The talkative and interesting ferryman explained that both ferries were heritage items and both had been adapted for one man operation directly off the beach. All very cunning. The one we were in was clinker built, probably for the purpose, while the other one started out as a barge of steel construction, probably for some inland waterway purpose in the east of England. On his story, given the considerable cost of renovation and maintenance, he was in it more for the love of it than to make money.

[Turned up by Bing, maybe the very ones we saw. 'Racing gigs parked up near the Point, Teignmouth. Teams of six oars and a cox train and race in these handsome boats all year round ... ladies team training ... Here is their berth behind the back beach in an intricately shared space for boats, equipment, vehicles, sheds and snack shacks']

And while we are in boaty mode, there was also a small brown wood, clinker, gaff sloop, having a bit of trouble getting out against the tide with only a light wind to help it along. And there quite a few six oared racing gigs, one of which we saw at sea later in the day.

First stop at Shaldon was for rather expensive tea, coffee and cake. I was a bit taken aback by the bill of more than £30 for the four of us, but this perhaps reflected being unused to paying for four more than inflation. That said, what started as my piece of Dorset (or perhaps Devon) apple cake was inflated by the addition of a dollop of cream, some fruit & vegetables and some drizzles. I stuck to the cake and left the remainder to BH.

For our money, we also got a talkative, older gentleman, out with his long-suffering daughter. A survivor of all kinds of frightful illnesses and awash with anecdotes about all sorts of things.

After a while, I was moved to inspect the road outside, where I found these new to me drain covers. Clever, the way that they slot together. Don't recall seeing such before, but I dare say they are common enough: just need to take a bit of interest. Slotting which serves to deter the average punk from lifting them?

The second stop was the Botanic Gardens, dedicated to the memory of the inventor of Liqufruta and his wife, for which see references 2 and 3. Visible bottom centre in the map above as the thin strip of green marked out by the blue heritage rose marker. 

The view back across the Teign to Teignmouth from the Botanic Gardens. Telephone - in my hands at least - fails to deal with the bright light under the trees.

A stray echium, blown in from the Ventor Botanic Gardens on the far side of the Isle of Wight.

Not sure that I have noticed acorns on the Holm oak before.

An unknown small tree, trunk top left.

The western end of Mrs. Liqufruta's castellated summer house. A house she used, inter alia, for her bridge parties.

For some reason the drain covers in the lane at the back of the gardens carries the stamp of a Westminster builder. Shipped into the once thriving coastal port of Teignmouth from London? Or perhaps the Westminster builder just ordered them from somewhere up north, and never actually laid his eyes on them.

A public convenience, just outside the famous Shaldon tunnel, I dare say something to do with smuggling. Nothing new about stealing from the taxman - although I believe that in the 18th century penalties could be a little harsh by the soft - not to say decadent - standards of today. While the public convenience started life as something military during the second world war, more exactly an emergency engine room for a coastal battery, a battery sporting two 4.7 inch naval guns - large enough to do serious damage to anything trying to enter the Teign. A gun which was very successful at the end of the 19th century, being made (under license no doubt) and used all over the place. Completely obsolete by the end of the first world war according to Wikipedia. While according to reference 4, these two were made in Japan in 1917 and were mounted in Shaldon for the duration of the second world war.

A lime kiln, also just outside the tunnel, complete with resident tree, probably deceased. Seems an odd place to put such a thing.

The fish pond, on the way back down to ferry. I think the fish are real, while the ducks are plastic.

A house back in Teignmouth which has seen better days. Once twinned with the Tom Cribb of reference 5. From where we made our way to the Wetherspoon's, already noticed at reference 6 and detailed at reference 7. Converted from a 1970's supermarket. Before that, the site of a once prosperous printing and publishing business. Called 'Jolie Brize' for a famous, albeit French built, pilot cutter which, under English ownership, won lots of races. According to reference 8, she still exists, still sails and is owned by a Wiltshire public school. Which in the curious English system, means private school. Quite possibly a charity too. While our discussion was confined to what the name might mean. Feeling contrary - as driver, I had been denied proper refreshment - I insisted that 'briser' means break in French, nothing to do with breezes.

Possibly from her time under the Portuguese flag. Lifted from reference 8.

A type of low brick arch I remember from a Heavitree House in Fore Street, Exeter. Perhaps a west country thing.

The rising moon in the east. As I recall, it looked a lot bigger in real life than it does here. Who says the camera never lies?

Some debate about the visibility of Portland Bill, on the far side of Lyme Bay. I asserted that the shadow on the horizon said to be the Isle of Portland, was the wrong shape, with no slope down from left to right. A matter which remains unresolved.

Still feeling contrary, I declined to use headlights on the way home, asserting that dipped light was quite enough. Which is true enough on a main road, but I decided after quite a few miles of back roads that I was wrong - although not so wrong as to admit it. Maybe I shall quietly start using head lights on the next occasion.

PS 1: Ordnance Survey continue to annoy me with the very creaky entry point to their excellent maps, a sample of which is snapped above. Always seems to take longer to get into their maps than I spend with them. The map archive up in Scotland is both free and much easier to get into. But maybe not once they have cast off from the mother ship, to try their hand, once again, at paddling their own canoe. From where I associate to the Icelanders of the middle ages who gave up paddling their own canoe, that is to say running their own parliament rather badly, and invited the Norwegian king to come in and get a grip on things. 

PS 2: Littré suggests that the French have adopted the English word breeze, over the protests of the Académie Française. While Linguee suggests that 'fresh breeze' might be the sense of 'jolie brise'.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2021/10/heat-pumps.html.

Reference 2: https://liqufruta.com/.

Reference 3: https://liminoids.com/Liqufruta.pdf.

Reference 4: https://archaeologydataservice.ac.uk/archives/view/dob/ai_full_r.cfm?refno=6515.

Reference 5: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/09/marshgull.html.

Reference 6: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/10/dining-out-west-part-one.html.

Reference 7: https://www.jdwetherspoon.com/pub-histories/england/devon/the-jolie-brise-teignmouth.

Reference 8: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jolie_Brise.