Get ready for a deluge of Devonian delights, but first a sentimental stop in Cornwall for Sis, who had a year out just across the water from Portscatho Beach in 2015.
Not only did Portscatho give me a tick, it also gave us TWO toll crossings. Though I don’t remember stopping when I crossed the Tamar 🤔
This is the Roseland peninsula, beloved of garden fans and pashminas from Penge (is that a thing ? ).
Children called Jemima and Oscar ran amok while Peter hired a boat and Flo dreamt of Prosecco oblivion. I hated it with a vengeance, but you know me.
And the Plume of Feathers wouldn’t let me go to the bar, instead forcing me to use their outside set up.
You had to have booked last week to enter the hallowed portals, and I NEVER book.
Sis forced down an OK Proper Job (2.5) in the sun, and then headed off to look for a present for her granddaughter.
But as we know, it’s new Mum and Dad, not baby, who need the beer. So she stocked up on Verdant while I tucked into salad at Chenoweths Park, which seemed very adept at telling people off.
Then we took the King Harry chain ferry over toward Falmouth.
Someone got told off there, too, but for a change it wasn’t me.