Dart&Moor

(So much for corny puns)

That was a pretty tough climb. Deep, steep and slippery. And very hot'n'sweaty on the way up, but terribly cold on the windy top where we had our lunch. In other words: one perfect day.

In the end (after much rescheduling: see previous entries) we bussed to Okehampton, and made a circular walk through the fields and over the moor, and finally climbing the two tors that were our goal for the day (tors are huge granite rocks from which you have the best view over the Moor. Actually, the entire region called Dartmoor is one big "piece" of granite that has come to the surface; and so are other places in the South-West like Bodmin Moor and St Austell. For a very clear and nicely illustrated explanation of this and more, visit this place, and look under Factsheets & leaflets - Educational factsheets - Geology & landforms.).

Views were - well, what can I say - stunning. While stumbling over the quirky rocks covered with heather and blueberries and about five inches of snow (strong ankles and knees required), I realised it must have been some fifteen years ago since I have spent a winter in the mountains.That made this experience even more special to me. The weather was the very opposite from what everyone had expected: no blizzards, no snow-falling, no rain. Just a perfectly clear sky to take 25 amazing pictures (I hope). You'll see them all in a month or three. But the image(s) given on M.'s field-diary give a reasonable idea of what we were in, although our walk was much more spectacular of course. But we did see sheep, and we did see ponies, houses, stiles, "ijle luchten", white fields separated by black hedgerows making England remind me very much of Brueghel in the snow.

I think I also made a new good friend today. She is from Pennsylvania (the S of A: not the English village between Bristol and Bath), she immediately liked Stophoest and her (great)grandparents are from all over the place (as isn't unusual for Americans of course): Ireland, England, the Netherlands, Germany, Hungary, Russia, Scotland... Back in Okehampton, a sweet, very Dartmoorish town nevertheless looking slightly Swiss today, we had a tea (&chocolate) with Sponge Biscuit and Fruitcake in the, also very very sweet/neat/comfy/cosy/warm (misschien een beetje "te") "Victorian Tea Pantry" (with portraits of Queen Vic on the wall, and real-life little chatty old English ladies around us), next to the local Museum of Dartmoor Life and the tourist information centre.

Back home I found that Somerfield (one of the large supermarket branches) isn't so extravagantly expensive as was my first impression some months ago, and instead of preparing the projected mediterranean pasta and tuna dish, I decided a steak pie with carrot and swede would suit the day much better. (Okay, I did add rice, coriandre and chili and soy sauces. But still.) In the kitchen it was all very gezellig (no irony intended), slating the British version of the tv show Idols (here called "X-factor". Like that helps) and talking about the ongoing tradition of Sunday roasts.

Now this walking, which I do about once every two weeks, often happens in the context of one of the university student societies I subscribe to. We call ourselves OODS (our full name doesn't express our nature half as well: it's the Out Of Doors Society. It's true of course that we go Out of doors, but the abbreviation is much more informative of Our Kind. As is usually the case. Just to give you an example: Exeter Uni also knows a CockSoc. They are supposed to mix cocktails). Anyway: so I am one OOD, we do walks every Saturday, which take us all over the South-West, and I am going to take at least M. with us when he comes; I am very sorry O. isn't here on a Saturday, because he would love it as well. But we'll just arrange our own hike.

I won't go into the other walks I made with OODS in-depth (which is a good thing for you and for me, considering our most interesting and busy Lives), but possibly the stories will come back 'home', with the pictures.
One of these was a coastal: a walk along the Cornish coast from Boscastle to Tintagel. Be-au-ti-ful. Well, you know I love the sea. And it reminded me of both Wales and Bretagne, two more places I love. Which means I wouldn't mind loving Cornwall.
Houses in Cornwall are very distinct: they are built from (mostly bare) slate (leistenen) flagstones, both the walls and the roofs; whereas here in Devon houses are often plastered a greyish colour (although you have some Elsacian pinks and greens, too).

I think I shouldn't bother you much longer with long descriptions of landscapes: I'm sure you woul have no problem turning to Victorian novels for that. I would like to give you one more direction though: some of the walks I took (both with OODS and without) I did with Rebecca, one of my flatmates. She does have a digital camera, and a fotoblog, which means... tataa! For clarifying pics of places we both have been to (although not always together or even at the same moment): see her entries on October 9 (where you can see a real Tor), 24 and 25; and November 6 and 8. (By the way: I went to Ottery St Mary, but didn't have to sign one of those waiver forms (one of which you can see on the first photograph) as we went in a very own-risk car: see my 7/11 post.) But the rest of her photos also gives a nice image of what es gibt to see here, and what I (and you too) still might visit in the future. I might still go to Bath for example.

...

Saving dark chocolate for last, I concluded the day with some delicious bites of a hazelnut letter N.

And now, after a brisk and crisp walk, a very hot shower, a wholesome English meal and the recording of it all here (now there's a Never-Ending Story for you), I'm sure I will sleep tight tonight!