Compass Cove

Having been to see Mamma Mia, with its glitteringly turquoise scenes of the Greek coast, I was cheered the following day when we discovered, on a walk near Dartmouth, a beach that could easily compete. It had a cave, and lots of orange stones, some of which we made into a rather prehistoric looking fish.

Winkle picking

I was safely tucked up in bed, drifting off to sleep after a hard day's beach babing, when I suddenly remembered some unfortunate winkles festering in a carrier bag on the kitchen floor. It had seemed such a good idea to gather them while rockpooling, but of course they'd been forgotten upon our return. There was nothing for it but to get up, consult Hugh F-W, and start cooking. (at least they only take five minutes to boil). We ate them cold the next day. Not unpleasant, but not exactly pleasant either. Thank heavens for garlic mayonnaise.

Swimming in the rain

Although the Dart is currently an angry monster (they say it claims a life every year) there are still a few places where it's safe to swim. And of course when the weather's so grim, you don't have to share the river with anyone.

Shining chanterelles

Deep gloom was starting to set in today at the unremitting rain. Finally, towards the end of the day, we decided to set off for the woods and a swim in the river. As we trudged through the drizzle there was suddenly an excited shout from my elder son. Chanterelles! Lots of them, like little lights twinkling around our feet. Every cloud has a silver lining....

Burgh beckoned

The mermaids of Burgh Island - or at the very least the cormorants - were calling us again. Of course it would be very rude to refuse such an invitation. We'd swum round the island last summer, so knew it was possible. However today it was a bit of a daunting prospect; leaden skies, a pregnant swell and some rather exuberant waves smashing onto the island's rocky perimeter. We decided to swim across the causeway and reassess the situation once we'd got to the island. Normally you can see lots in the water as you swim - the particles of sand, the detail of the rocks, seaweed etc - but it was so rough this wasn't possible. Three of the party swam to the first 'corner' of the island and decided it wasn't safe to continue. So we turned back. We'll be back again though.

Spin cycle

"It's like a washing machine out there", the man taking the money at the car park at Bantham warned me, adding that earlier the lifeguards had been saying it wasn't safe for children to enter the water. (disclaimers all round; mine's a double please). Fortunately by the time we made it to the surf, it was ok, although it was indeed blowing an absolute gale as the tide rushed in. The result - the best wave rides ever at this particular location. The sea was a storming lather as we were catapaulted again and again into the shore on our boards.

Ale tasting and bread weighing

On the third Saturday of every July, Ashburton 'goes medieval' . Men in sackcloths and women in wimples take to the streets as part of the ancient ale tasting and bread weighing ceremony which goes back centuries. I came across a chap called Woody who was standing on a street corner playing his hammered dulcimer which he told me originated in ancient Persia but was played regularly in medieval England. Then there were the Grimspound Morris Men who were dark and Dartmoorish.

Wimbledon it wasn't

It could hardly be described as the town's sporting event of the year, but Ashburton's tennis tournament was in its way a minor triumph. The club is so laid back it's practically horizontal, so the fact that eighteen players got together on the same day, played some matches, and ended up with a rather thrilling final, was frankly remarkable. It was good-natured fun, with just the teensiest competitive edge.

Crazy name, crazy swim

"A lido on the Moor" is how one friend described Crazy Well Pool. When we got there after a thirty minute uphill hike, we found a black, rippling pool surrounded by Dartmoor sky. There was a sense of strangeness, indeed otherwordliness, perhaps because of its isolation and the darkness of its waters. It also has no apparent reason for its existence; no water runs in or out. It was perfect for swimming. Backstroking gave a wonderful view of the larks overhead, and the constantly changing skies.

What a washout

'Tis a truth universally acknowledged that on the day of the school fayre the rain shall pour and the gales shall howl. Actually it isn't - last year it was so hot that all the icing on the cakes melted. This year though, the weather WAS truly horrendous., with driving winds and curtains of rain. As the jazz band continued to play, it felt like the last hours of the Titanic.