Today I had the very great pleasure of spending the day with my old school buddy, "Bish"!
I last saw her when I left England and moved to Australia in 1970. We were just kids, 17 years old, and we didn't keep in touch at all. So imagine my surprise when I walked into the bank where I heard she was working - and there she was, she hadn't changed at all.
Same cheeky grin, same infectious chuckle.
So the four of us went out to Dulverton - one of those beautiful little rural villages with tiny streets, magnificent churches, and interesting little shops. We wandered around, and then went for lunch in one of the village pubs.
Everyone says English pubs have changed since you can't smoke in them any more, they say the English pub is dead or dying ... it's just not true. This was a delightful warm, friendly place with folks sitting around tables and on sofas, chatting over a drink. We were quite surprised when a group came in with two large dogs, and settled comfortably into a corner - the dogs tucked themselves away under the table and we didn't hear a peep out of them. Another gentleman came in with a big dog, and it sat quietly at his feet while he drank at the bar. The dog group had their meal and left, and another group came in with a large dog and occupied the same corner table.
Englishmen and their dogs! I began to feel out of place without one.
We had some local cider to drink. It was quite surprising to us that it was still, not sparkling, and tasted quite similar to the kambucha tea I used to make years ago.
Then we went on out to Tarr Steps. Wikipedia says:
The Tarr Steps are a prehistoric clapper bridge across the River Barle in the Exmoor National Park, Somerset, England.
Pretty place, very old. Oh, clapper bridge?
A clapper bridge is an ancient form of bridge found on the moors of Devon (Dartmoor and Exmoor) and in other upland areas of the United Kingdom including Snowdonia and Anglesey. It is formed by large flat slabs of granite or schist supported on stone piers (across rivers), or resting on the banks of streams. According to the Dartmoor National Park, the word 'clapper' derives from an Anglo-Saxon word, 'cleaca', meaning 'bridging the stepping stones'.
So now you know, and so do I.
To finish off a great day out we went to Bickleigh Mill. This place has the biggest display of crafts, and knick-knacks, and doo-dabs, and even clothes ... you go in and through and up and around, room after room. So we stopped for a cup of tea.
[Yesterday a friend and I went out for dinner in a place really close to us here in Torquay, and it was called "Bickley Mill"! Things can get confusing in these parts.]
