Rummaging around a charity shop in Paignton I found an old postcard that stopped me in my tracks. On the picture side, there was a photo of the Avon estuary at Bantham. On the other were charming drawings, illustrating a romantic account of a family's sailing trip in their boat Kipper up the river on the incoming tide, 
during which they stopped by an old kiln and made a camp fire. A true Swallows and Amazons adventure. Read the full story here.
Autumnal afternoon sun, as well as a desire for the refreshing balm of the Dart, drew us to the river. Rather than just swimming around we felt like going from A to B. We went in at one of our favourite places, which we call, unimaginatively, the Big Rock. Well, it is in fact a noticeably big slab of rock. We then floated, swam, crawled and slithered down the river towards Spitchwick, going through various little waterfall junctions en route. The water was particularly clear and beautiful, probably because there hasn't been much rain in the last week or two.
86 of us, accompanied by canoes and various craft, swam to the other side of the estuary and back. We all got big gold medals and scrummy customised cupcakes afterwards. The latter courtesy of a local firm called Big Buns.
The Burgh Island Race is a wonderful event in the great tradition of British seaside swimming challenges. A mile around the dramatic rocky perimeter of this beautiful half-tidal island, it is a fabulous swim. The event was brilliantly jolly, with Deborah, the owner of the Burgh Island Hotel, announcing instructions via a megaphone. The winner was of course one of the lifeguards. 
Afterwards we sat outside the Pilchard Inn eating a delicious barbeque supper which was kindly provided free by the Hotel to all the competitors.
We were eating dinner tonight when we noticed a colourful butterfly crawling on the window. It looked like some sort of Tiger Moth. My nine year old son got the book and concluded it was a Jersey Tiger. My immediate reaction was to scoff, saying they must surely only be found in Jersey, but how wrong I was. "Found in South Devon and the Channel Islands" said the book. So there you are, South Devon has its very own moth.
The River Erme at Ivybridge has a series of pools and rapids. There is something for everyone. You can do your lengths in the pools, snorkel and watch the mercurial trout, or take the kamikaze route, canyoning down the waterfalls and chutes. The pools have rather romantic names, including Trinnaman's, Zulu and Head Weir. Today we swam at Trinnaman's, which is fed by a wonderful little waterfall. I was just in a swimsuit, and although the water was cold, it felt beautifully cleansing and refreshing.
I can barely contain my excitement. After unexpected 'shroom discoveries this morning (see previous entry) I was inspired to go and see if there was any action in one of my favourite places. And yes - to my delight - I found lots of fungal fruiting. Chanterelles in abundance, some hedgehog mushrooms and bay boletes. Other species seen but not picked included panther caps (poisonous nasties), a larch bolete, tawny grisettes and various russulas.
I'm ashamed to admit I have lived on Dartmoor for nine years and never before bothered to get up to watch the sun rise. Well today I did. As we walked past Hound Tor the sun appeared in glorious pink and orange. We then yomped along to a favourite swimming spot,
where we got limb-achingly cold doing our early morning laps, before cooking breakfast on my whizzy new camping stove. Oh, and a bit of a bonus - we found chanterelle mushrooms en route, which made an exotic addition to our bacon butties.
"Gee, but it's great to be back home. Home is where I want to be." The words of Paul Simon, and as I swam in the soft peaty waters of the West Dart today I kept humming his song to myself. My two year old niece was with us, who is obsessed with the Wizard of Oz, and we kept quoting Dorothy: "there's no place like home". We were at one of our favourite spots, which reminds me of the Hundred Acre Wood, because of the pine trees.
The water is so yellowy that any blue colours we wore looked green.
