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Hot girls in west Salcombe va


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Jan had to leave the next day, which made all of us sad as we could feel it was the beginning of the end. When we got back we had a perfect late lunch in the Devon sunshine, the last one out on our picnic table. We had delicious Devon cheeses and made our Salade Nicoise with our last container of hand-picked Salcombe crab.

Tim and I spent most of our last days writing intensively. We wanted to make sure that we were both in solid places with our books, knowing that we were going to have to leave our writing for a while. Jennifer looked after us, cooking us delicious meals while we slaved over hot computers. But we always made sure to head out for walks at the end of the day. During the First World War, the original owners, having lost their son in the war, offered their home to the Red Cross Society to be used for the treatment of convalescent troops.

Just like something out of Downton Abbey season 2. Otto Overbeck took over the property in and lived there until his death in He died a bachelor and left his property to the National Trust, on the condition that it have his name on it and that it not be used as a brothel. The gardens and house are open to the public during the day and turned into a Youth Hostel in the evening. Mal and Elspeth said that they used to stay there in the summers because you had the run of the house and gardens for the evening.

There is a beautiful little sculpture garden, a small maze and acres of unusual trees, shrubs and flowers overlooking stunning views of the Salcombe Estuary. The huge Magnolia tree, planted over years ago, was in riotous bloom. The banana trees were not yet bearing fruit, but then it was just March. We were fascinated by unusual cactus trees, birds of paradise and the juxtapositions of colours and textures.

It was odd to think that we had walked the coastal path just below these gardens two weeks previously. The rooms are steeped in the Edwardian fascination with the natural world. There are hundreds of birds eggs catalogued and on display, a practice that was common in his day but contributed to endangering many species in England. There are likewise hundreds of stuffed birds, small mammals, butterflies and shellfish.

Overbeck believed in the importance of Natural Science and wanted to make sure that his collections were used for furthering the education of young people. He also had an extensive collection of items about marine history, toys and a Polyphon — a huge Victorian music box. It is an eccentric and eclectic museum.

His love of nature is manifested in his wonderful gardens, lovingly maintained to this day. A tearoom is connected to the house. We sat outside in the spring sunshine, eating locally made scones with jam and huge dollops of Devon Double Cream, our last chance to enjoy this particular local delicacy. It was peaceful and so very, very English. I sat looking out over the harbour, and made sure to leave a small, hidden mark on a bench.

Moll assured me that leaving a magic mark will ensure my return. I hope she is right. Being in Devon changed us, and I know we all want that experience again.

Tim, Jennifer, Jan and I all love to cook. We love to eat, to talk about food and laugh around the table together. Early on in our stay here in Salcombe, we developed a wonderful companionship around the making of meals. And so we managed to rotate the cooking and planning. It all seemed to be based on our own private work schedule. Writing might be going really well, and you might not want to break your rhythm.

Magically, someone else is cooking. Or perhaps you find you need a break, need distraction, need time to think while chopping vegetables.

Everyone else is happy to give you space and time in the kitchen. Salcombe fulfills our grocery needs incredibly well. It is filled with local produce.

Gorgeous fresh vegetables, different varieties of apples, fresh herbs. There are packaged local condiments from the Devon chili farm. There is local hand picked crab. The store also caters to exotic tastes. We are able to get Nam Pla and coconut milk, arborio rice and polenta. There is a wall of dried spices behind the counter and one day I asked if they had any bay leaves.

You can just go pick what you need there. It is a beautiful store, filled with local Devon pork, lamb, chicken and beef. The meat is exquisite, and the butcher is knowledgeable and helpful, supplying great cooking ideas. He also carries some of the finest Devon cheeses I have ever tasted. Down the road is a beautiful bakery. The breads and buns are lovely and fluffy and fresh. The bakery also makes perfect little squares called Flap Jacks that we sometime indulge in for our afternoon tea.

And next store to the bakery is a wine and liquor merchant where we can find wines from all over the world, in various price brackets. All of these wonders are on the main street, two blocks from our cottage. We look for excuses to go down to the shops. Entertaining company is a great excuse for shopping and cooking. She has lived here for over 30 years and now spends most of her time painting and rescuing damaged seagulls and cats.

But it is worth finding the ingredients. Otherwise we are buying new boxes and jars in every place we stay. So we came prepared, travelling with some of the more exotic spices.

The other visitors that we had this week were Mal Peet and Elspeth Graham, the wonderful writer friends who we met last fall in Exmouth. It was really exciting to see them again and to take them on one of our favourite local walks to Snapes Point, through gently wooded areas and fields of gamboling lambs. The church bells can still be heard chiming in the distance. Jan made her fabulous Umeboshi salad. Umeboshi is a dried, pickled plum from Japan.

Ume vinegar is salty and sour and Jan uses it in a Kale salad that we are all crazy for. It was a fabulous night of eating, drinking, and sitting by the fire to talk about books, art and, of all things, the Canadian constitution. We have been thrilled to discover the tastes and sounds, smells and sights of Devon, as well as to share some of our own favourite recipes with new friends.

The Hope Cove to Salcombe walk is on the south west side of the peninsula and we were told it had some rugged paths, with some degree of difficulty. The gauntlet was thrown. There are very few busses in or out of Salcombe, so we had to coordinate our time carefully, taking a bus to the tiny nearby town of Malborough and then transferring to a bus to take us to Hope Cove.

At the heart of Malborough is the parish church, founded around AD. With its 13 th century stone vaulted roof and a perfectly preserved pointed spire sitting atop a hill, it can been seen throughout the countryside.

We waited outside the post office beside the church for our bus. I am not making these names up. We had quite a debate as to where one would rather live — in Inner Hope or in Outer Hope. Hope Cove was a favourite among smuggles, and the tiny cob cottages with thatched roofs made us feel we were in the midst of a novel. Just off the cove is Burgh Island where there is a complete Art Deco hotel.

We could only view it through a telephoto lens, unfortunately. We made our way out of Inner Hope and headed up toward the cliff, only to discover a group of 25 hikers, most a bit older than us, on the path. We raced ahead, knowing that it would be best to be in front, rather than behind the pack.

They were stopping from time to time for guided information, but they were keeping a fair clip. The nation of walkers was showing us some of their best. The path took us through Bolberry Down, a beautiful grazed area filled with sheep and new spring lambs. In a Spanish ship went down off the coast of Bolberry Down, killing men. We made a pit stop at the one habitation on our route, Port Light, which is a small collection of buildings formerly a part of RAF Hope Cove.

Asking about the road ahead, we were told that it was rough in places, that we had a section coming up with a lot of highs and lows but that after that things got flat. After a few bites of apple and lovely Devon cheese, we set out with will and determination.

From the high cliffs, the path led us down to the tiny beach at Soar Mill. Isolated and perfectly proportioned, it is a place to come back and spend a day lazing. The high path took us through a field of lovely, friendly Shetland ponies with whom we shared the last bit of our apple. We huffed and puffed our way up to Bolt Head, the most southerly point of Devon. I managed to take a picture of myself, on the edge.

The rocks were right behind my head. There was nothing between me and the ocean far below.

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But it is worth finding the ingredients. Otherwise we are buying new boxes and jars in every place we stay. So we came prepared, travelling with some of the more exotic spices. The other visitors that we had this week were Mal Peet and Elspeth Graham, the wonderful writer friends who we met last fall in Exmouth. It was really exciting to see them again and to take them on one of our favourite local walks to Snapes Point, through gently wooded areas and fields of gamboling lambs.

The church bells can still be heard chiming in the distance. Jan made her fabulous Umeboshi salad. Umeboshi is a dried, pickled plum from Japan. Ume vinegar is salty and sour and Jan uses it in a Kale salad that we are all crazy for. It was a fabulous night of eating, drinking, and sitting by the fire to talk about books, art and, of all things, the Canadian constitution.

We have been thrilled to discover the tastes and sounds, smells and sights of Devon, as well as to share some of our own favourite recipes with new friends. The Hope Cove to Salcombe walk is on the south west side of the peninsula and we were told it had some rugged paths, with some degree of difficulty. The gauntlet was thrown. There are very few busses in or out of Salcombe, so we had to coordinate our time carefully, taking a bus to the tiny nearby town of Malborough and then transferring to a bus to take us to Hope Cove.

At the heart of Malborough is the parish church, founded around AD. With its 13 th century stone vaulted roof and a perfectly preserved pointed spire sitting atop a hill, it can been seen throughout the countryside. We waited outside the post office beside the church for our bus. I am not making these names up. We had quite a debate as to where one would rather live — in Inner Hope or in Outer Hope. Hope Cove was a favourite among smuggles, and the tiny cob cottages with thatched roofs made us feel we were in the midst of a novel.

Just off the cove is Burgh Island where there is a complete Art Deco hotel. We could only view it through a telephoto lens, unfortunately.

We made our way out of Inner Hope and headed up toward the cliff, only to discover a group of 25 hikers, most a bit older than us, on the path. We raced ahead, knowing that it would be best to be in front, rather than behind the pack. They were stopping from time to time for guided information, but they were keeping a fair clip.

The nation of walkers was showing us some of their best. The path took us through Bolberry Down, a beautiful grazed area filled with sheep and new spring lambs. In a Spanish ship went down off the coast of Bolberry Down, killing men.

We made a pit stop at the one habitation on our route, Port Light, which is a small collection of buildings formerly a part of RAF Hope Cove. Asking about the road ahead, we were told that it was rough in places, that we had a section coming up with a lot of highs and lows but that after that things got flat.

After a few bites of apple and lovely Devon cheese, we set out with will and determination. From the high cliffs, the path led us down to the tiny beach at Soar Mill. Isolated and perfectly proportioned, it is a place to come back and spend a day lazing. The high path took us through a field of lovely, friendly Shetland ponies with whom we shared the last bit of our apple.

We huffed and puffed our way up to Bolt Head, the most southerly point of Devon. I managed to take a picture of myself, on the edge. The rocks were right behind my head. There was nothing between me and the ocean far below. I turned around to realize that I was alone and mildly terrified of going back down. I slide down gingerly on my backside. We rounded the corner, dodging sheep, to look down on the green blue waters of Starehole Bay and the dramatic rocks of Sharp Tor.

They are incredibly dramatic formations that look like they have been squeezed out of the earth and are ready to fall on unsuspecting hikers below. We continued on toward Salcombe, past the small luxury hotels in South Sands, the enthusiastic dog beach at North Sands, past the million pound homes and cottages along the coast.

It had been a good 9 mile walk, and yes, took us about 3 hours to complete from Port Light. We ended the adventure with a bowl of crab bisque and a pint, in front of the fire at our favourite Salcombe pub, The Victoria Inn. The perfect place to massage weary feet.

This is a nation of walkers. They are varied, well marked and well used. Apparently between 50 — million people visit the National Trust coast and countryside properties each year. There are a number of good 4 — 5 mile hikes that we can take right from our doorstep. On Saturdays, we try to choose longer paths of 5 — 10 miles. The Salcombe to Gara Rock hike began with a ferry ride across the harbor to the East Portlemouth side of the estuary.

A paved road led us to the sandy beach of Mill Bay, a perfect, fine sand beach with a few bouncing dogs and children out enjoying the spring weather. The path then began its ascent, taking us past Biddlehead Point, Sunny Cove and the Hipples until the headland turned and we faced the full force of the Atlantic.

Historically, vigorous sea trade moved through these waters. Unlike other rocky shores, the soil here is rich and arable. It is humbling to think that this land has been under cultivation for thousands of years, and it still retains its rural roots.

Sometimes I think the best thing about these walks are the names. Archeologists believe that a ship want down here about 3, years ago.

There has only ever been one other pre-historic wreck found in England. The waters off these shores are treacherous. The Salcombe Canon wreck, also in this area, found coins and jewels from the 16th and 17 th centuries, helping archeologists trace trade between England and Morocco.

They think there is probably still a lot more to be found. From Gara Rock we went down to the beach at Seacombe Sand, a perfect place for our packed picnic of delicious Salcombe Crab sandwiches. We headed back through deep green leafy woods, a less steep, less dramatic path but one that offered an entirely different flora. The path spilled us back at Mill Bay. The rain held off. The perfect end to a dramatic day. As I write this, I am looking out over a quiet estuary, dotted with small fishing boats and sail boats.

Gulls are swooping and calling as the tide comes in. We have each staked our claim to a work area, and spend days working on different projects. But we make sure to take time for long rambles in the Devon countryside, challenging our thigh muscles on the hills.

The estuary is not, strictly speaking an estuary. It is tidal all of the way up to Kingsbridge, 5 miles inland. As the tides go in and out, they leave long mud flats, shallow along the shoreline at low tide. These flats provide rare and important habitats to a host of marine species. It is a paradise for wading birds and otters, crabs, clams, seahorses and mussels. Salcombe has been known for shipbuilding, smuggling and crab fishing. The estuary is treacherous with sandbars and jutting rocks that have caused a number of spectacular shipwrecks over the centuries.

Recently they discovered a Bronze Age sea wreck off the coast. During the civil war, Sir Edward Fortesque held the castle, called Fort Charles, defending the Royalist town of Salcombe until it was clear that the rest of the country had conceded to Oliver Cromwell. In the days of sailing vessels, Salcombe was an important shipping port, with the specially designed Salcombe Schooners sailing to Iberia, the Mediterranean, the Caribbean, the Azores and Newfoundland.

They returned with exotic fruits, sugar, coconut, rum and wood for ship building. But with the advent of steam ships, shipping moved to deeper waters elsewhere along the coast. There is a plaque dedicated to the American men who lost their lives in that battle, and one of the docks has been named the Normandy Dock. Even in little Salcombe, the impact of war is a fact of life. Now, however, the town is primarily known as a place for pleasure boating and holiday-making.

The houses and cottages in the old part of town are immaculately kept. The steep hills hold the village in, encouraging it to remain tiny and perfect. The main street is about 5 blocks long. The population is around 2,, although our landlord says that increases fold in the summer.

Interestingly, the real estate prices are the second highest in England outside of London. But we are here in the off-season. The village is just beginning to gear up for its busy summer. Some shops will remain closed until Easter, and the few that are open are painting trim and washing windows. We get to mix and mingle with the folks who actually live here.

From my writing window, I can see the tiny village of East Portlemouth across the harbour. The ferry takes less than 5 minutes, and is simply an open boat with seats for about There are other ferries in the high season connecting to other places on the estuary, but at this time of year there is just the one and it runs across every half hour. All of the cottages were destroyed.

Today, there are probably on 20 people who live in East Portlemouth. It is known for its extreme beauty and isolation, and for having a few very wealthy second home-owners sparking an interesting political struggle.

A local landowner who has lived in East Portlemouth all of her life wants to build some cottage homes for low-income families. She feels that it will keep the village alive if there are ordinary people can still afford to live there. However, the millionaire second home-owners are not in favour.

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