Kind of blue

Bluebells, like Christmas, come but once a year. They're thought of as a woodland plant, but there are drifts of them all over Dartmoor, casting purple shadows across the landscape. They seem to grow happily amongst the granite outcrops. These were near Saddle Tor.

Lido land

We're lucky to be surrounded by lidos. There are seven within twenty miles of our house, including Ashburton, Teignmouth, Moretonhampstead and Chagford. Today we patronised Buckfastleigh. The ladies' changing rooms had certainly had a facelift from last season. We are liking two-tone candy pink. Unfortunately, due to council paranoia about paedophiles, I wasn't allowed to take any photos inside the pool. Suffice to say it's surrounded by a lot of concrete but it's still lovely. Small and sweet. Outside, the pool is protected from vandals by barbed wire and sticky paint. Unfortunately the sign is not immune. My son is covering up the contribution made by the local scroats.

Claimed by the current

High water was at 7:15, and we met at 8am (matchsticks in eyes) at Aveton Gifford, to drift, float and swim down the Avon estuary on the outgoing tide. Being pulled down the river, we felt intensely drawn into its world. We passed herons, egrets, cormorants and a nest of sleeping swans. Underwater I saw oyster beds, white cockle shells, and swathes of muddy kelp clinging to the banks. Around us the trees were in electric green bud, and fields of bluebells spread down to the water. Towards the end, the current sped up and it was an exhilarating ride - including being swirled in eddies - down to our final destination, the beach at Bantham.

Cold feet at Lovers' Leap

Lovers' leap is a legendary place on the Dart, somewhere I have long wanted to go, since reading the name on the Ordnance Survey map. There are various old prints of it, suggesting it was a notable beauty spot for the Victorians and the like. We found a rugged cliff face, with rusting fencing at the top. At the bottom, there is a slow, dark, tempting pool. In 1843, a Devon poet, John Bradford, was here. These are the opening lines of his "Sonnet written at Lovers Leap on the Banks of the Dart."
I'd live a hermit on the craggy side
Of this rude rock, which juts its rugged breast,
Where murmuring at delay the waters glide,
Running the restless race in search of rest.

By the sea

Bantham was beautiful. Sun and sparkle, waves and wind. We lay around on the beach, looking across at Burgh Island. There were occasional forays into the sea, where the surf was small but sporting.

A wet walk

The weather was typical April. Showers followed by sunshine, followed by more rain. Black clouds came and went; when they came we were plunged into darkness, as the picture shows. We were at Hembury Woods by the Dart. The bluebells are just starting; we also saw primroses, wood anemones and violets. The river was full.

Salmon leaps

We found a huge pool in the River Teign near Castle Drogo, complete, it seemed, with diving boards. Perhaps though they were actually for fishermen? Luckily there didn't seem to be any fishermen about, so we took advantage and leapt off them. We also had fun trying to sit in three cascading salmon leaps. There were several undignified comedy moments, as we tried not to be swept away.

Inshore exploring

Some of the rock formations around the coast are like mini kingdoms. There are channels and tunnels, thoroughfares and caves, both above and beneath the surface. There are jungles of seaweed in all shapes and hues. As you swim through them, in sea this blue, you really do feel you are in a magical wonderland.

Tor terrain

Hound Tor is just made for climbing. It lures you up with its steps, ledges, cracks, crevices and caves. Clamber if you dare. I didn't today because I was feeling tired and it's dangerous if you're not feeling strong. You need lots of balance and firm grips. However the rest of the party were up and about the rocks like goats on a mountain crag.

Wildlife watching

Saw five seals today at Start Point. They were sitting together on a rock, which, as the tide came in, was getting smaller and smaller. There were a few scraps when the biggest decided he wanted to bag the best spot, and pushed the others out of the way. A massive wave then broke over the rock and washed one off. I swam in a nearby turquoise lagoon, where there was a deep cave filled with shingle, with diamond shaped holes in the rock above, letting in light. I became lost in this world for quite some time. When I came ashore I heard my son shouting "dolphins"! A pod of at least seven were coursing past, scything through the water surrounded by seagulls. Their energy was palpable.